Hymns in Human Experience

The voice of the true Christian is the same regardless of nationality or color, as is seen in this incident about

What Frances Wanted Sung

Frances Phillips, a young girl of Alaska, was the first pupil to graduate in the eighth grade in the Training School at Sitka. Soon afterwards she married a young man named Sam Johnson. Both were Christians. Frances died in 1924, a few days after the death of her little son. Dr. Samuel Hall Young tells us that he had been going to see her daily for a week when, on Sunday morning, word was brought that she was dying. “The little church was not far distant, and Frances sent word to open the doors and windows and to sing:

“The dying woman joined feebly, with an ecstatic smile on her wan face and soon passed away. Before her death she had started a subscription in Angoon to build a new church. Sam and his brothers took up this work, and a beautiful little building called ‘The Frances Johnson Memorial Church’ was erected, almost entirely by the Indians.”[24]

CHAPTER X
Hymns of Youth

The questioning attitude of youth is impelled by a desire for deeper reality. Some of their words and ways may scandalize the conventional, but back of it all we find eager sincerity and animated purposefulness to make life count for more. We need to show the patience of confidence towards skeptical young people. We must encourage them to work out their problems not by holding up danger signals, but by magnifying the ways of sure deliverance. We are not wedded to methods but are inspired by motives. So long as these latter are right we might well disagree about how they are to be expressed.

An interesting sidelight on the essential loyalty of young people was recently given when, at a summer institute attended exclusively by them, a popular vote was taken of the best ten hymns. The following were named: “Holy, Holy, Holy;” “Nearer, My God, to Thee;” “Rock of Ages;” “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross;” “Abide With Me;” “Sweet Hour of Prayer;” “Jesus, Lover of My Soul;” “O Love, That Wilt Not Let Me Go;” “Just As I Am;” “Lead Kindly Light.”

This is certainly not the choice of erratic radicals, but of rational conservatives who desire to retain what is best in the past while going forward with characteristic adventuresomeness to new fields of activity and of achievement.

The new program of religious education is an attempt more satisfactorily to meet the needs of children and adolescents. Previous efforts had their limitations but all who grew up under the conditions of the former generation will appreciate this testimony from Sir Harry Lauder in Roamin’ in the Gloamin’ about

The Influence of the Sunday School

“I forget many of the hymns we sang at the Band of Hope, but such favorites as ‘Shall We Gather at the River?’, ‘Throw Out the Life Line,’ and similar haunting airs stand out in my memory. I loved every note of them and yelled them out most lustily. The old Scottish psalm tunes we occasionally sang at the Band of Hope, and also at the Sunday School I attended, likewise made an extraordinary appeal to me. ‘All People That On Earth Do Dwell,’ to the tune of the ‘Old Hundred;’ ‘O, God of Bethel by Whose Hand’ to the tune of ‘St. Kilda,’ were among my favorites. The last mentioned melody is in a most unusual minor key. It was written by a young Scottish musician named Bloomfield, who died early in life and whose body, I have been told, is lying in an ancient cemetery in Aberdeen.”[25]

These words recall an experience of Captain John Lauder in France, which led him to declare he was

Glad He Learned the Hymn in Sunday School

While convalescing in the hospital he went one day to the piano and began playing very softly. One of the nurses then came up to him and said a Captain Webster of the Gordon Highlanders who knew his father, Sir Harry, wanted to see him. What followed had best be stated in his own words, quoted in A Minstrel in France[26] by Harry Lauder:

“This man had gone through ten operations in less than a week. I thought perhaps my playing had disturbed him, but when I went to his bedside, he grasped my hand, pressed it with what little strength he had left, and thanked me. He asked me if I could play a hymn. He said he would like to hear ‘Lead, Kindly Light.’ So I went back to the piano and played it as softly and as gently as I could. It was his last request. He died an hour later. I was very glad I was able to soothe his last moments a little. I am very glad that I learned the hymn at Sunday School as a boy.”

Dr. R. J. Campbell tells a touching story about a mother and her only child whose request was

“Sing, Muzzer, Sing”

This young English mother made a living for herself and child by singing in the concert halls of London, and so at night she was compelled to leave him while meeting her engagements. One night she had a foreboding of evil but she had to keep her appointment. The rapture of the crowds and the encores were nothing to her as on this night she hurried back to the lad. She took him up in her arms and held him as if he could never slip away. But he was dying, and his broken words were, “Sing, muzzer, sing.” What an ordeal! But she responded. Her clear sweet voice broke upon the hush of that tenement room in the words of the matchless hymn of the children:

Another hymn made a moving impression upon a large congregation when

Children Sang of the Love of Jesus

A group of fresh-air children from New York City were being entertained at East Northfield, the home of the schools established by D. L. Moody. One Sunday, sitting in a body in the great auditorium, they were presented to the audience, and then invited to the platform to sing for the assembled company. The little folks marched to the front of the building, faced the many hundreds of people, and gleefully sang:

Children of parents who came from many different nations across the Atlantic, living amid hard conditions in the great city of New York, life had not afforded them much in the form of pleasure. But their faces fairly radiated happiness as they lustily sang:

This incident is given in Through Jade Gate, by M. Cable and F. French, about

A Youthful Daniel

In our city-visiting we soon discovered that the first difficult plowing of the ground was being done for us by the children. Everywhere we were welcomed, and mothers, whom we had never seen, repeated Scripture texts, hymns, and sentences of prayer with surprising accuracy. One little fellow, unconscious that he was being watched, walked down the street singing at the top of his voice, “Dare to be a Daniel, dare to stand alone,” then coming to a stop before a peanut vendor and looking him in the face, said, “Did you know that there is only one God, and one Lord Jesus Christ?”

“Why, no,” said the man bewildered.

“Well, it is true,” answered the child, and passed on singing, “‘Dare to have a purpose firm, dare to make it known.’”

Here is a suggestive story quoted from The Sunday School Times about

Jazz and Sacred Music

A Christian mother recently found no little difficulty in leading her ’teen-age girls to overcome the habit of singing jazz. It is what they heard over the neighbor’s radio, in school, on the street, everywhere. And in order to cure the habit there seemed to be need for something more than the negative command, “Don’t sing such songs, girls!” At length she hit upon a solution to the problem. When the girls burst into “Carolina moon, keep shining,” the mother would begin, very quietly and with apparent lack of purpose,

And it was not long until the singing voices began to follow her.

The central message of the Gospel is well illustrated in this

Spiritual Experience in Song

At a world’s convention of Christian Endeavor Societies, the various delegations went to their respective places in the tent, singing different hymns. The New Zealand deputation marched in singing,

They were listened to in silence, until they reached the stanza:

Then the vast audience could no longer refrain from joining them, for the verse truthfully expressed the spiritual experience of all the company.

It was an impressive experience which strengthened the bond of unity when a group joined in this

Evening Prayer of Young Campers

The young people who had spent the evening together were about to separate and go to their several tents and cottages. “Why not a song-prayer together?” asked one. The suggestion was favorably received. These were the words they sang just before they retired:

The culminating moment at a missionary meeting was reached when the assembly sang a hymn,

Acknowledging God’s Claims

It was at one of the anniversaries of the London Missionary Society at Queen’s Hall, London. There were present a number of young men and women who were about to leave for their several mission fields. Instead of some modern hymns which are convicted of false sentiment, there was selected Doddridge’s hymn for this notable occasion. The first verse is:

One can imagine the enthusiasm of those prospective missionaries as they sang:

The courage of conviction was strikingly exhibited in connection with a well-known chorus,

“Can the Lord Depend on You?”

Three thousand people had gathered in a beautiful grove for the annual reunion of one of the State societies of Los Angeles. The musical program consisted of old sacred melodies with variations and they were received with enthusiasm. The president then announced that three young ladies would perform a special dance and he requested the pianist to play for the dancers. Much to his surprise and chagrin a polite negative reply was given. “But there is no one else here to play for the dance,” said the president.

The pianist insisted on refusal, declaring that he had never used his talent in that connection and never so intended. The president then threatened to expose him to the vast audience, and no sooner had he done so than the pianist took the platform and said: “My reason for not playing for the dance is that my talent is not my own. It is dedicated to a far higher and nobler service. It is devoted wholly to the service of Christ.” The impression produced upon the gathering had an effect different from that of the president of this state society. On adjournment, several got into conversation with the pianist, which led to complete decisions for Christ.

The great heart of the nation was heard on a notable occasion when, in a spirit of unity,

Young America Made Music

This took place during the sessions of the National Education Association at Dallas, Texas. It was on the last evening of the convention, which for five days had engaged in earnest discussion on the education of children in the United States.

Five thousand persons applauded when the curtain rose; and the spectators were thrilled when they saw on the stage eight hundred boys and girls dressed in pure white. These were the best singers in the Dallas elementary schools. For an hour they sang, never missing a word or a note, without a scrap of paper before their eyes. The last third of the program was the cantata of “Rip Van Winkle,” which was rendered with a sweetness possible only to the unspoiled voices of children who sing because they love to sing.

The curtain rose the second time, and the scene changed. The National High School Orchestra appeared for the first time in history before the National Education Association. Two hundred and sixty-six boys and girls from thirty-nine states sat there “with their handsome instruments.” They were selected from six hundred who were competent and anxious to attend. It was a thrilling sight to watch these young people who sat together regardless of the states from which they came, and whose faces had “the features of every nation under heaven.” The program was arranged to recreate the moods of life—of play, heroism, questioning, hope, despair, fantasy, and religious fervor. The musical selections were from the masters, and they were rendered with perfect harmony.

For two hours these young people stirred the depths of their vast audience. It was like a glimpse of the great scene described in the Bible, “of the company out of every nation and kindred and tribe before the throne of God, whose anthem of praise is like the sound of the sea.”

The closing number was most impressive. Led by the youthful orchestra, the audience sang the evening hymn of Sabine Baring Gould:

So the music swept on until the closing stanza was reached:

This incident is fully described in Yankee Notions, by Henry T. Bailey.[27] He concludes his account with an impressive sentence: “I heard the great heart of my country singing as never before, and the harmony was as rich and deep as human brotherhood itself.”

Here is a testimony to faith and hope suggested by

Hymns Used at the Dedication of a College Chapel

Hendricks Memorial Chapel of Syracuse University was dedicated on June 8, 1930. It is the third in size of all college chapels in the United States and is to be the center for the religious guidance of the students.

The hymns used on this occasion were full of significance. The first had a national application and was written by a physician, Dr. Alfred A. Woodhull. Six thousand voices blended in singing:

This was followed by “Faith of Our Fathers.” The closing hymn was written by Dr. M. W. Stryker, one of the distinguished presidents of Hamilton College:

At the afternoon service of dedication the first hymn was

The next was Professor Caleb T. Winchester’s striking hymn:

Deeply prayerful was the last stanza:

The hymn of dedication was most appropriate. It was written by William Cullen Bryant, who was a student in Williams College. And it was from occasional summer afternoons of meditation in the chapel of this college that Senator Francis Hendricks conceived the idea of providing this memorial chapel for Syracuse University. Here are two stanzas:

At night was held the installation service of the Dean of Hendricks Chapel. It began with the immortal hymn of Isaac Watts:

The last hymn on that eventful day was one which came from Dr. Washington Gladden, a man who exercised a large influence in our national religious life. The desires and hopes of all were thus deeply expressed as they sang:

CHAPTER XI
Hymns as Prayers

When our feelings are deeply stirred by a crisis it is the most natural thing to turn to God in prayer. Such an acknowledgment of the divine resourcefulness in the face of human helplessness advertises the inherent dignity of man, who finds that he is best able to overcome difficulties by reliance upon God. Any person who is able to make such a contact with the Source of Power through prayer is well equipped for the tasks of life.

It is the filial spirit which inspires the tone and quality of prayer, whereby we receive spiritual insight and moral strength for duty. It has been well said that “prayer is the discipline of desire in the light of the best consciousness of God that we can attain unto.” We must recover this practice of prayer for right living. It will reinforce us with virtue and vitality to keep true to our best selves and fit us to meet every demand. It is in actual experience and not by mere theorizing that we find out the real efficacy of prayer.

Bishop Edwin H. Hughes, in The Pastor Looks at His Work,[28] reports some of his experiences to show that

Hymns Are Prayers

“A little while ago I was in a service where a minister of no little eminence was suddenly called on to pray. His response was simply the repeating of the entire hymn, whose first stanza reads:

If one man’s experience was typical, that individual hymn with its ‘I’ and ‘My’ brought scores of people into a spiritual aggregate and made a ‘common supplication.’

“Much of the same thing happened in the bishops’ meeting not so long ago. We were having a prayer service, only that, and it must have continued for two and a half hours. One bishop’s prayer that night was simply a repeating of Whittier’s hymn:

As we were all on our knees we were led to treat that hymn as a public prayer; and it was at once an inspiring and exalting thing. Our services would be enriched beyond measure if only this spirit of prayer could be more definitely attached to the songs of our corporate worship.”

Here is a personal testimony from Fanny Crosby concerning

The Constant Companion of the Pilgrim Journey

“Toward the close of a day in the year 1874, I was sitting in my room thinking of the nearness of God through Christ as the constant companion of the pilgrim journey, when my heart burst out with the words:

How prayer is the inevitable opening for guidance is finely illustrated in the circumstances which resulted in the writing of

“Lead, Kindly Light”

This well-known hymn was written by John Henry Newman when, as a young clergyman of the Anglican Church, he lay sick and troubled in a vessel which was becalmed in the Gulf of Palermo. He was restless to return to England and perplexed concerning the future. His feelings were expressed on the afternoon of June 16, 1833, in this prayer for guidance. The well-known tune, “Lux Benigna,” to which it is usually sung, was composed in 1865 by Dr. J. B. Dykes as he walked through the crowded Strand in London. It was done in ten minutes in what might seem to have been an unfavorable place, and yet faith shows its power in overcoming distractions and difficulties, as was done by this musician.

The author of this hymn later entered the Roman Catholic Church. He is best known as Cardinal Newman but none of his writings, not even his Apologia Pro Vita Sua, has exercised the influence of this prayer hymn. To be sure, all who use it have not been guided as was the cardinal. A friend recently remarked to me: “I was in the habit of repeating these lines on board the ship which was bringing me a stranger to the United States. The assurance that the Light still will lead me on has remained with me during the years nor have I any reason to expect that it will be different in the days to come.”

Here is an experience about

An Eventide Prayer

A minister of long service and extensive travel went into the church of a denomination other than that to which he belonged when away from home, for evening worship. He was deeply impressed when the pastor offered as the evening prayer some stanzas from a hymn:

No words other than those of the hymn were spoken; but the visiting minister affirmed that he never heard a more appropriate or appealing prayer.

How calmness and poise are obtained are related in an experience

“Through the Long Night Watches”

A minister was once confined to bed by sickness. When Sunday came he could hear the hymns which the congregation sang, for the parsonage adjoined the church. Evening found him feverish and restless, but with soothing effect came the closing hymn. Through the open window came the prayerful lines:

The next Sunday morning the minister was back in his pulpit, and with a spirit of gratitude announced the hymn:

How there was a change for the better during a sickness is revealed in this account:

“Why, That’s For Me”

A minister’s wife with whom I am well acquainted has told of the time when her only sister lay on a bed of pain in a hospital in one of the suburbs of Chicago. Her father and mother, being sent for, reached the bedside at nightfall. A brief interview was permitted. The father, bending low above his girl, heard her faintly say, “Oh, Dad, I’ve lost my grip.” Great anxiety, therefore, was on his mind as he left the room.

Fearing the answer he might receive, yet hungering for news, the father telephoned as early the next morning as he dared. “How is the girl today?” was his agonized question.

“Holding her own. In fact, she has made slight progress through the night,” was the glad and astonishing answer. Father and mother, therefore, soon hastened to the hospital. There they learned that the daughter’s recovery was now a possibility.

Later the parents learned the cause of the happy change. A window had been opened by a nurse, and there came through it to the accompaniment of a piano a clear baritone voice singing: “What a Friend we have in Jesus!”

“Why, that’s for me,” whispered the sufferer, as she heard the words:

Restful assurance was expressed in the closing lines:

Making the words her prayer, by asking Christ to take and shield her, she turned her face to the wall and the first natural sleep for weeks followed. From that hour her recovery began.

Harriet Beecher Stowe awoke one morning to find herself famous as the author of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. The excellent reception given this book was gratifying, but more than anything else was

The Satisfying Consciousness of God’s Presence

She wrote her husband at this time, from the home of her brother, Henry Ward Beecher, that she felt a wonderful consciousness of God’s presence, which above all else quieted and comforted and satisfied her soul. Then she wrote out this experience in the beautiful hymn, “Still, still with Thee,” which first appeared in the Plymouth Hymnal. Set to Mendelssohn’s music, it is one of the richest recent additions to hymnology. This hymn-prayer was the response of her soul and voiced a deep experience of the peace that passeth all understanding. It tells most impressively what are some of the benefits of prayer:

What the divine presence means is strikingly seen where a man in danger was able to pray and to realize that he was

Not Alone

Seven men were buried beneath thousands of tons of rocks which fell without a moment’s warning in a Cornish tin mine early in the twentieth century. Willing hands immediately began the work of rescue, though all despaired of finding anyone alive. Their worst fears, however, were not realized. One man was found a little distance from his comrades, and was uninjured. The rocks had formed an arch over him.

Encouraged by finding this one miner, those who were engaged in the work of rescue called loudly to ascertain if any others were alive and able to speak. One man answered. He was an active Christian, and Sunday School superintendent. “Are you alone?” he was asked. The questioner, of course, was thinking of his fellow laborers. “No; Christ is with me,” was the reply. “Are you injured?” was the next question. “Yes,” answered the imprisoned man, “my legs are held fast by something.”

Those engaged in the conversation were then greatly surprised as they heard this man, who often sang when descending to and ascending from his daily task, now begin to sing in a feeble voice:

They heard no more from him. Two days later he was found with his legs crushed by a huge rock which rested on them. Both his life and his last words of song, however, gave the assurance that he had gone to be “forever with the Lord.”

CHAPTER XII
Songs of the Negroes

Whatever else may be said about The Green Pastures by Marc Connelly, it obviously represents the naive and simple faith of thousands of untutored black Christians in the South. They accept the wonders of the Old Testament with crude literalness and they unhesitatingly believe that these marvels can be reproduced in their own lives.

One of the chief values of this play is the discerning use made of the unique spirituals which are a distinctive contribution of America to music. No one who has ever heard them sung can forget the impression of pathos at times rising to the heights of astonishing power. Without any regard for rhyme, rhythm or meter, these dialect songs express the long suppressed longings for freedom and happiness. The Negro furthermore firmly believes that these benefits are to be realized by means of religion alone. However sensuous may be some of the figures of speech, the emphasis is always on the supremacy of spiritual values.

There are other features in Negro singing especially connected with religious revivals which throw light on the characteristic traits of this people. Aggrey of Africa was a remarkable representative of the Negro race. His life, written by Edwin W. Smith, is one of the outstanding biographies of recent times. He once said, “I believe that the Negro has a great gift for the world; the gift of the idea of meeting injustice and ostracism and oppression by sunny light-hearted love and work. I believe he is going to teach that to Asia and the white folk.” His attitude to life is best expressed in songs as indicated by a few illustrations in this chapter.

Dr. Willis J. King, president of Samuel Houston College, Austin, Texas, in a recent article in The Christian Advocate, pointed out

The Value of Negro Spirituals

“The peculiarity of both the melody and the dialect of the spirituals tends to make them difficult for people other than American Negroes to render. But these difficulties are being overcome. With increasing frequency they are being rendered by white American choirs and congregations. Some of them, like ‘Lord, I Want to be a Christian’ and ‘Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?’ are quite singable, after brief rehearsals, by the ordinary church group of any race or nationality. So it would seem not too much to expect that a number of these spirituals will ultimately find their place among the great hymns of the Church, and be sung down through the ages by Christians of every land.”

The ability to sing the spirituals depends upon

Finding the Soul of the Song

Dr. Bruce S. Wright tells of a well-known American-Italian tenor who said that he never sang a selection until he found out the soul of the number. For that reason he refrained from singing Negro spirituals until he had spent considerable time in the South living among the Negroes, listening to them sing. So today he sings “Steal Away” as he heard it sung at a Negro revival; and he sings “Goin’ Home” as he heard it sung at the dying bed of an aged Negro in a Negro’s cabin.

Here is a vivid description by Annemarie Ewing in The Christian Herald:

How the Negroes Sing

“In the huge stadium, dropped like a bowl beneath the starlit sky, thousands of people sit waiting to hear the Hall Johnson Choir. Overhead the sky is indigo, dotted with twinkling stars, glorious with the cool silver of a full moon. A tender, capricious wind breathes softly over the semicircle of the waiting crowd.

“Now they come—a handful of Negroes, perhaps a dozen men and a half dozen women. So small a group looks lost on the big platform. At a signal from their leader they begin.

“Challenging as the voice of a delivered soul, the strong, clear bass gives out the words; others join in—a soprano acquiescence, a contralto surge of content, the ecstatic agreement of the tenor. Joy throbs through the singers’ throats, their cup of joy runneth over!

“How the leader draws them out—to send their message surging across the summer night into the hearts of thousands!

“The last note swells and is still.

“In a moment they begin again. This time it is a joyous refrain, pulsing with the firmness of blessed assurance—assurance that warms the heart and moistens the eyes.

“Your soul thrills to the swinging certainty. Yes, He is so high, you can’t get above Him, so low you can’t get below Him; so wide you can’t get around Him! There is no way in but through the Gate!

“The music dies away, far above the stars gleam—detached, assured, eternal. From your eyes, quite unashamed, you brush away the tears.

“Thus do they worship our Lord!”

It was a memorable day in one man’s life when

Black Uncle’s Song Made a Minister

A well-known white minister in the Middle West owed his conversion and his entrance into the ministry to an unexpected circumstance. He belonged to a company that was playing in Louisville. After the performance he left the theater at a late hour to take a turn around the streets of the city. He passed through a little park and saw a bent old Negro “uncle” sitting on a bench. As he approached the actor heard him singing softly to himself. And the song was “Jesus, Lovah uv Mah Soul.” The tenderness and feeling of the darky’s song and the clear tone of his aged voice held the listener spellbound.

When the last verse was sung the youthful actor went up to the singer and pulling out a big bill said: “Uncle, you’re an old man, and it’s late for you to be out like this. If you have no home, this will help you a bit. Take it and go and be comfortable for a few days, anyway.”

The Negro took off his hat and said, “Dat’s pow’ful kind uv you, boss. Ah’s ol’, an’ Ah ain’t got no home, an’ ef hit’s jes’ de same to you Ah’ll take jes’ a bit uv dat money—’case somehow or udder de good Lawd he sen’s me a bit ev’y day. But Ah don’t need any mo’, ’case he allus loks arter me, ev’y day. An’ hit don’t matter, boss, ef an ol’ man’s ol’, an’ ain’t got no home, jes’ so’s he kin sing dat ’ere song uv mine. Ah’d like to sing hit again to yo’, jes’ case you done gib me dis. Hit’s a wunnerful song, boss. Hit’s called, ‘Jesus, Lovah uv Mah Soul!’”

He then sang it again softly. The actor heard him through and then shaking hands with the Negro, to his surprise, said, “Good night, uncle. You’ve done a good night’s work with that song—better than ever I’ve done with my life. Because you’ve started me doing something—for I’m going to learn to sing that song, too!”

That was the beginning of an experience which resulted in a gifted man becoming a minister of Christ.

The characteristic gratitude of the dark race was illustrated when

A Negro Family Sang at John Brown’s Funeral

“John Brown’s Body Rests Amid the Mountains,” wrote Mary Lee in The New York Times, October, 1929, as she vividly told the story of the life of this dramatic figure in a fascinating manner. At that time, she affirmed, there was still living at North Elba one man who could remember John Brown. His name was Lyman Epps, “the son of one of those Negroes whom John Brown came to North Elba to help.” This writer adds: “The Epps family it was who sang as a quartet at John Brown’s funeral in 1859. Lyman Epps remembers it to this day—how he stood at the foot of the open casket singing bass, his father at the head, singing tenor, and his two sisters, Amelia and Evelyn, singing soprano and alto, at his side.” The hymn they sang was John Brown’s favorite: