OCCASIONS TO REMEMBER
"Once I remember taking a service while the shells screamed over us
into Ypres. And as the men were singing:
"'Cover my defenseless head
With the shadow of Thy wing,'
one that fell short came hurtling, landing not two yards away--a
dud."--_Dr. A. J. Gossip in "The British Weekly."_
"What was the greatest moment of all?" That was the question put to
General Evangeline Booth of the Salvation Army when she was 81
(Christmas Day, 1946), by Dorothy Walworth, who narrated the interview
in The Christian Herald.
Retired, yet in good health and still working hard, this magnetic
speaker, whom I once heard as she thrilled a mighty audience with her
fervent oratory, paused a moment. As daughter of the founder, and later
his honored successor in its leadership, there had been many high
moments. Then came her answer with conviction as she related that her
finest experience came on a day which she spent in the Leper Colony in
Poethenkuruz, in southern India, where a chorus of little leper girls
had been trained to sing one of the hymns she wrote for the Army. They
stood before her in their dainty white dresses. Faces and hands were
badly scarred, "but their voices were clear and true. As they reached
the words in the hymn:
"With all my heart, I'll do my part,"
They put their tiny scarred hands over their hearts, and I was
overcome," said Miss Booth.
Princess Elizabeth (prospective Queen of England) was married to Prince
Philip on November 20, 1947. This was the centennial of the death of
Henry F. Lyte. The Princess, therefore, arranged for the rendering of
his hymn:
"Praise, my soul, the King of heaven,
To His feet thy tribute bring,"
when the bridal party entered Westminster Abbey. "This same hymn," said
_The Diapason_, "was also sung at the wedding of King George and Queen
Elizabeth."
"Abide with Me" in a Submarine
Fiction has rarely given us anything more arrestingly strange than the
following narration of a few minutes of life with their bewildering
experience. The story was related in _The Methodist Recorder_, London,
in its issue of December 19, 1946, and is here reproduced in the exact
words of the writer, Campbell Marr of Kirkaldy:
"In the early days of the war (World War II) a British submarine was
trapped at the bottom of the Heligoland Bight through an unlocated
defect in the machinery. In frantic despair the engineers endeavored
to find the fault, but without success.
"When the oxygen supply was almost exhausted the lieutenant in charge
assembled the crew and told them that the situation was beyond all
hope. He gave each man an opiate so that death might be made easier.
Someone started to sing that very popular hymn:
"'Abide with me,'
and they all joined in. Suddenly one man swooned, and fell into the
machinery and immediately the lights went on and the engine commenced
to buzz. The man in his fall had operated a lever which in the light
of the hand torches had been overlooked.
"In a few minutes they had surfaced, and were thanking God for their
miraculous deliverance. Many of these men are now back in civilian
life, and not one of them is ever likely to forget that grand old
hymn."
Wheel Chair Singers
We looked long at the unusual picture which stood out prominently on the
front page of our morning newspaper (an AP Wirephoto). The item carried
the heading which we are using. A group of twenty-five singers was
shown, and they all sat in wheel chairs. They were all polio patients,
and among them were several naval officers. A special article in _The
New York Times_ supplied additional details.
The courageous singers were seated in the little white chapel in Warm
Springs, Georgia, where President F. D. Roosevelt last attended a
service of worship. Now, two years after his sudden passing, a memorial
service was being conducted for him. This was on April 12, 1947, and
three hundred polio victims and villagers were present--the patients
also occupied wheel chairs. An overflow company of two hundred were
outside on the greensward in front of the chapel, and listened to the
service which was conveyed to them by loudspeakers.
The pew in which President Roosevelt always sat when he was at Warm
Springs was reserved. Warm Springs was the place to which he often went
when making his heroic fight with his affliction. The health-giving
sources which he there found were greatly helpful. It was there that
death came suddenly to him; there the Little White House stands; and
there State Guards have maintained constant vigil since his translation.
The American flag was on that day at half staff at the unpretentious
cottage where he spent restful, though busy, days.
The leader of the Wheel Chair Choir, Mr. Fred Botts, also occupied a
wheel chair as he directed his group of plucky singers--young people who
were there for treatment. For the Georgia Warm Springs Foundation is the
largest center in the world for the treatment of poliomyelitis. Thither
go patients from every state in the union.
One newspaper supplied the thing I wanted to know, for I wondered what
hymns would be sung by such an exceptional choir--young people fighting
with determination for their health and their future. First came:
"Faith of our fathers! living still."
The second hymn which the Wheel Chair Singers led the congregation in
singing on that pleasant April day was one which is peculiarly
impressive:
"Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul; thy best, thy heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end."
This hymn by Katharina von Schlegel appeared in 1752, and very little is
known of the writer. It was "adequately translated" by Jane Laurie
Bothwick (1813-1897) of Edinburgh. While visiting Switzerland, a friend
suggested that she translate some German hymns in which she was
interested. Therefore she and her sister, Sarah Bothwick Findlater,
worked together in translating _Hymns From the Land of Luther_.
Comforting and challenging must have been the appeal to the hearts of
the crippled patients as there came to their lips the words of the
second verse:
"Be still, my soul, thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as he has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the winds and waves still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below."
Times there are in life when not only the occupants of wheel chairs, but
also the rest of us, may serenade our souls by singing or quoting that
bravely suggestive line:
"Thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake."
Sang the Hymn from Memory
When Theodore Roosevelt was running for the presidency in 1912, he spent
a weekend with William Allen White in Emporia, Kansas. The plan was to
take him to the Congregational Church on Sunday morning for worship, but
the guest asked if there were not a German Lutheran Church in town.
"There was, and I took him there," said White.
A feature that impressed the host is related in _The Autobiography of
William Allen White_. Both building and congregation were small.
Naturally everybody stared at Roosevelt in amazement. But the preacher
lined out the hymns, and White was delighted to note that Roosevelt
stood with the congregation and sang three stanzas of
"How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in His excellent word!"
without taking up the hymnal. He showed no hesitation concerning the
words.
Perhaps, however, White did not know that the hymn was one of
Roosevelt's favorites. Both Andrew Jackson and Robert E. Lee were fond
of it; and it was used at the funerals of both Lee and Roosevelt.
Its frequent use in services of worship in the United States is
indicated by the fact that it is placed second in the _Inter-Church
Hymnal_ by Morgan and Ward (1930).
An early memory of the writer is that of an old man at a large religious
gathering. During the evening this hymn was sung. He stood erect and
with face aglow as he joined in the singing. He had seen much of life
and doubtless realized from personal experience the reality of the words
he was singing. Possibly he was recalling some specific hours in life;
for when the third verse was reached, he lifted his face and continued
to sing with others:
"When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow;
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress."
The tears now began to flow down his cheeks; but he sang clear to the
closing lines as he continued to wipe away the tears:
"The soul that on Jesus still leans for repose
I will not, I will not desert to his foes.
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I'll never, no never, no never, forsake."
This is a good memory hymn, for its assurances are fitted to many
situations and emergencies of life.
Hymn Expressed the Hearer's Feelings
"That hymn expresses exactly what I have felt for years. How often I
have wanted 'A little shrine of quietness, all sacred to myself.' How
often have I wanted 'a little shelter from life's stress.'"
That was what a hearer said to a New Jersey minister, the Rev. Daniel
Lyman Ridout, at the close of worship during which the clergyman read
the words of John Oxenham, while his daughter accompanied him on the
piano "with reverent insight":
"Mid all the traffic of the ways--
Turmoils without, within--
Make in my heart a quiet place,
And come and dwell therein."
Oxenham's hymn expresses the desire of the soul in life's supreme
moments. This hymn was written during World War I, when the "sorrow of
the human race was most acute."
Writing under the name of John Oxenham, the author's real name is
William Arthur Dunkerley. Following his education in Victoria
University, Manchester, he followed a business career. He spent some
time in the United States, and also traveled extensively in Europe and
Canada. "He began writing as a relief from business," we are told.
Finding that he enjoyed writing more, he "dropped business and stuck to
writing."
A most unusual note is sounded in this hymn. The heart of the mystic
calls for:
"A little shrine of quietness,
All sacred to Thyself,
Where Thou shalt all my soul possess,
And I may find myself."
In a little private chapel down in the south of England he found the
little "shrine of quietness" which he coveted. Thence he would go to
"sit and think," and realize his desire for:
"A little place of mystic grace,
Of self and sin swept bare,
Where I may look upon Thy face,
And talk with Thee in prayer."
Hymn of the Homesick American
Leading representatives of every department of English public life
assembled to do honor to one "who had labored, during the six years he
had been ambassador, to promote good-will between the sister nations."
This was on May 6, 1905, when Joseph Hodges Choate was entertained at a
farewell banquet in London. He had attained high distinction as a lawyer
and achieved great prominence in public life in the United States when,
in 1899, President McKinley appointed him ambassador to Great Britain.
There he became a "messenger of good-will" in a very marked degree.
The scholarly orator, arising to speak, confessed that he was resigning
because he was homesick. Then he explained: "My friends on this side of
the water are multiplying every day in numbers and increasing in the
ardor of their affection. I am sorry to say that the great host of my
friends on the other side are as rapidly diminishing and dwindling away:
"'Part of his host have crossed the flood,
And part are crossing now;'
and I have a great desire to be with the waning number."
This was an effective use of words from a great hymn which Mr. Choate, a
Harvard graduate, evidently well knew. The incident has been preserved
for us by the Rev. John Telford. They came from the hymn of Charles
Wesley, which begins:
"Come, let us join our friends above
Who have obtained the prize."
This was the hymn that John Wesley and his congregation in Staffordshire
were singing at the hour when Charles Wesley, its author, joined the
company in heaven. Once, when in Dublin, John Wesley announced this
hymn, and making some comments on the same affirmed that it was "the
sweetest hymn" his brother ever wrote. That lover and critic of hymns,
W. T. Stead, reports that the Bishop of Hereford wrote him that he
thought that the fourth verse "was one of the finest in the whole realm
of hymnology." This runs:
"One army of the living God,
To His command we bow:
Part of his host have crossed the flood,
And part are crossing now."
Students in the classes of the beloved Samuel F. Upham, professor in
Drew Theological Seminary, will readily recall how he, in advancing age,
with characteristic fervor and deep emotion, occasionally quoted the
third and fourth lines of this cherished verse. Stevenson, in his
informing discussion of the Wesley hymns, has given us a great variety
of incidents associated with this song, and refers to it as "that great
and impassioned hymn."
His Ordination Hymn
The day of his ordination is a sacred one in the life of a minister. It
marks the time when he is definitely set apart for a very sacred task
for the balance of his life. Therefore the events of that day are deeply
embedded in the life of the individual who is henceforth to proclaim the
gospel.
Reference was made by Dr. William Pierson Merrill, then pastor of the
Brick Presbyterian Church in New York City, on October 26, 1930, when
the fortieth anniversary of his own ordination was observed, to the
special hymn which was sung on that occasion. Written by the scholarly
Dr. Timothy Dwight, it has held a secure place in the hymnology of the
Christian Church. The words deeply impressed him as a young man when
they sang:
"I love Thy kingdom, Lord,
The house of Thine abode,
The Church our blest Redeemer saved
With His own precious blood."
Speaking of what the hymn had meant to him through the years of his
pulpit and pastoral experience, he said: "I believed then, I am far
surer now, that this is the attitude for every Christian, and everyone
who would do his best for the common good. You cannot afford to neglect
_the church_." Then once more the hymn was sung.
Deep in the affections of thousands of Christians there dwells this love
for the church of the living Christ. Therefore through the decades since
this hymn was written Christians have assembled in their various places
of worship, and have meaningly and happily sung:
"For her my tears shall fall;
For her my prayers ascend;
To her my cares and toils be given;
Till toils and cares shall end."
Soldiers Sang at Their General's Funeral
The great military leader who had a premonition that he would die in
battle came to his death as the result of an accident sustained soon
after the close of World War II. Generals and colonels were the pall
bearers of General George S. Patton, Jr., when he was laid to rest on
Christmas eve, 1945, in the American Military Cemetery near Luxembourg.
Six hundred men who had served under General Patton in combat formed an
honor guard; and his grave "was no different from six thousand others
which marked the resting-place of soldiers from his own beloved Third
Army."
Funeral services were held in Christ Church, Heidelberg, Germany, on
December 23rd, and those were extensively reported for the Associated
Press. Two army chaplains were in charge. Mrs. Patton, who sat in the
front of the church, "turned her head to look at the choir loft when a
soldier choir of thirty-six voices" began to sing the first hymn:
"The strife is o'er, the battle done;
The victory of life is won;
The song of triumph has begun.
Alleluia!"
"This is one of those Easter hymns which is included in almost every
hymnal, but which is actually used much less than it deserves," remarks
Dr. Charles A. Boyd. Tersely he adds: "It is a historic treasure, one of
those Latin hymns so old that nobody knows the exact age."
When the choral group from the Seventh Army began to sing:
"The Son of God goes forth to war,
A kingly crown to gain;
His blood-red banner streams afar:
Who follows in His train?"
the khaki-clad officers and men who filled Christ Church, where the
Episcopal service was conducted, joined in singing the familiar hymn.
Onward to its concluding lines they sang with mighty voice:
"A glorious band, the chosen few
On whom the Spirit came,
Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,
And mocked the cross and flame;
They climbed the steep ascent of heaven
Through peril, toil, and pain:
O God, to us may grace be given
To follow in their train!"
The comment of Dr. Charles S. Robinson concerning this hymn merits
consideration: "This is one of Bishop Reginald Heber's finest lyrics,
ranking in the estimation of many with that anthem-like composition,
'Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty.'"
The two hymns mentioned were sung at the request of Mrs. Patton, who
stated that these were the two hymns which her husband most loved.
The soldiers lifted the flag from the casket, "and held it a few inches"
above the lid when the burial service occurred at Luxembourg. The 63rd
Psalm (General Patton's favorite passage of Scripture) was intoned by
Chaplain Edwin R. Carter. The military men bared their heads, and the
service closed with the Lord's Prayer. "With the ending of the prayer,
the soldiers folded the flag and handed it to Mrs. Patton.... A bugle
sounded taps for the fallen leader.... The Russian, British and French
generals, their great coats gleaming with medals, held themselves
strictly in salute until Mrs. Patton turned to leave." The body of the
American general was now resting beside that of an American private.
Details will gradually be forgotten by those who witnessed them, or
followed the reports in the daily newspapers; but Americans will love to
recall the favorite hymns of a beloved military leader who participated
in a most significant manner in the events of World War II.