The cost is greater than at first expected
To be in God's unbounded gifts perfected.
he holds that
It does not cost too hard a strife
To be a Christian, pure and heaven-minded,--
But a Christian must be steadfast and persevering, as he admonishes
himself and others in the following very popular hymn. The translation is
by Pastor P. C. Paulsen.
Stand fast, my soul, stand fast
In Christ, thy Saviour!
Lose not the war at last
By faint behaviour.
It is of no avail
That thou hast known Him
If when thy foes assail,
Thou shalt His banner fail,
And thus disown Him.
To brandish high thy sword,
With calm assurance,
And face the devil's horde
With brave endurance,
Is meet and well begun,
And merits praising.
But from the strife to run,
When blows thy courage stun,
Is most disgracing.
Let Satan rave and rage
By hosts attended,
The war for Christ I wage
Until it's ended.
When leaning on His arm
With firm reliance,
I need not take alarm,
To me can come no harm
From Hell's defiance.
When Jesus' love I see,
It me constraineth,
So that from carnal glee
My soul abstaineth.
When heaven to me is dear,
Its joys attractive,
Of hell I have no fear,
For Christ, my Lord, is near,
In battle active.
In just a little while
The strife is ended,
And I from Satan's guile
For aye defended.
Then I, where all is well,
In heaven's glory,
Among the saints shall dwell,
And with rejoicing tell
Salvation's story.
Therefore children of God should rejoice.
Children of God, born again by His Spirit,
Never ye cease in His name to rejoice;
Jesus believing and saved by His merit,
Come we to Him with a jubilant voice.
But even a child of God must not expect to escape from the common trials
and perils of life. God promises assistance but not exemption to those
who love Him. In the following striking hymn, Brorson vividly pictures
both the trials and the comfort of a child of God.
I walk in danger everywhere,[7]
The thought must never leave me,
That Satan watches to ensnare
And with his guile deceive me.
His cunning pitfalls may
Make me an easy prey
Unless I guard myself with care;
I walk in danger everywhere.
I walk through trials everywhere;
The world no help can offer.
The burdens I am called to bear
I must with patience suffer;
Though often I discern
No place where I may turn
When clouds surround me far and near;
Death walks beside me everywhere.
Death walks besides me everywhere;
Its shadows oft appall me.
I know not when the hour is here
When God from earth shall call me.
A moment's failing breath,
And I am cold in death,
Faced with eternity fore'er;
Death walks besides me everywhere.
I walk 'mongst angels everywhere;
They are my sure defenders;
The hordes of hell in vain prepare
Against such strong contenders.
All doubts and fears must flee,
With angels guarding me;
No foe can harm me in their care;
I walk 'mongst angels everywhere.
I walk with Jesus everywhere;
His goodness never fails me.
I rest beneath His shielding care
When trouble sore assails me.
And by His footsteps led,
My path I safely tread.
Despite all ills my foes prepare:
I walk with Jesus everywhere.
I walk to heaven everywhere,
Preparing for the morrow
When God shall hear my anxious prayer
And banish all my sorrow.
Be quiet then, my soul,
Press onward to thy goal.
All carnal pleasures thou forswear,
And walk to heaven everywhere.
Unlike Kingo and Grundtvig, Brorson wrote no outstanding hymns on the
sacraments. Pietism was in the main a revival movement and placed no
special emphasis on the means of grace. And although Brorson remained a
loyal son of the established church, he wrote his finest hymns on those
phases of Christianity most earnestly emphasized by the movement to which
he belonged. While this is only what could be expected, it indicates both
his strength and limitation as a hymnwriter. He was above all the sweet
singer of Pietism.
The hymns of Brorson that appeared during his lifetime were all written
within the space of four years. In that brief period he composed a volume
of songs that rank with the finest in the Christian church, and just as
he might have been expected to produce his finest work, he discontinued
his effort. The hymns of the _Swan-Song_--which we shall discuss
later--though written for his own edification, indicate what he might
have attained if he had continued to write for publication. His reason
for thus putting aside the lyre, which for a little while he had played
so appealingly, is unknown. Some have suggested that he wrote his hymns
according to a preconceived plan, which, when completed, he felt no
inclination to enlarge; others have surmised that the new and ardent
duties, bestowed upon him about this time, deprived him of the leisure to
write. But as Brorson himself expressed no reason for his action, no one
really knows why this sweet singer of Pietism so suddenly ceased to sing.
----------
[5]Another translation with the same first line by A. M. Andersen in
"Hymnal for Church and Home".
[6]Another translation: "The faith that God believeth" by P. C. Paulsen
in "Hymnal for Church and Home".
[7]Another translation: "I walk in danger all the way" by D. G. Ristad in
"Hymnal for Church and Home".
Chapter Ten
Brorson's SWAN-SONG
The Pietist movement, new and numerically small when the Brorsons aligned
themselves with it, made such sweeping progress that within a few years
it became the most powerful movement within the Danish church. And in
1739, it ascended the throne in the persons of King Christian VI and his
consort, Queen Sophia Magdalene of Kulmbach, an event of great
significance to the fortunes of the Brorsons.
In Denmark the king is officially the head of the church. At the time of
Brorson all church appointments belonged to him, and King Christian VI,
if he had so wanted, could thus have filled all vacancies with adherents
of the movement in which he sincerely believed. He was, however, no
fanatic. Earnestly concerned, as he no doubt was, to further the
spiritual welfare of his subjects, his only desire was to supply all
church positions at his disposal with good and able men. And as such the
Brorsons were recommended to him by his old tutor and adviser in church
affairs, John Herman Schraeder. On this recommendation, he successively
invited the brothers to preach at court. Their impression upon him was so
favorable that within a few years he appointed Nicolaj to become pastor
of Nicolaj church in Copenhagen, one of the largest churches in the
capital, Broder to become Provost of the cathedral at Ribe and, two years
later, Bishop of Aalborg, and Hans Adolph to succeed his brother at Ribe
and, four years later, to become bishop of that large and historically
famous bishopric. Thus the brothers in a few years had been elevated from
obscurity to leading positions within their church.
Contemporaries express highly different estimates of Brorson as a bishop.
While praised by some, he is severely criticized by others as unfit both
by ability and temperament for the high office he occupied. This last
estimate now is generally held to be unjust and, to some extent at least,
inspired by jealousy of his quick rise to fame and by antagonism to his
pietistic views. A close examination of church records and his official
correspondence proves him to have been both efficient in the
administration of his office and moderate in his dealings with others. He
was by all accounts an eloquent and effective speaker. Although Ribe was
a small city, its large cathedral was usually crowded whenever it was
known that Brorson would conduct the service. People came from far away
to hear him. And his preaching at home and on his frequent visits to all
parts of his large bishopric bore fruit in a signal quickening of the
Christian life in many of the parishes under his charge. He was, we are
told, as happy as a child when he found pastors and their people working
faithfully together for the upbuilding of the kingdom. But his own zeal
caused him to look for the same earnestness in others. And he was usually
stern and, at times, implacable, in his judgment of neglect and
slothfulness, especially in the pastors.
His private life was by all accounts exceptionally pure and simple, a
true expression of his sincere faith and earnest piety. A domestic, who
for many years served in his home has furnished us with a most
interesting account of his home life. Brorson, she testifies, was an
exceptionally kind and friendly man, always gentle and considerate in his
dealing with others except when they had provoked him by some gross
neglect or inattention to right and duty. He was generous to a fault
toward others, but very frugal, even parsimonious in his home and in his
personal habits. Only at Christmas or on other special occasion would he
urge his household to spare nothing. He was a ceaseless and industrious
worker, giving close personal attention to the multiple duties of his
important position and office. His daily life bore eloquent witness of
his sincere piety. When at home, no matter how busy, he always gathered
his whole household for daily devotions. Music constituted his sole
diversion. He enjoyed an evening spent in playing and singing with his
family and servants. If he chanced to hear a popular song with a pleasing
tune, he often adopted it to his own words, and sang it in the family
circle. Many of the hymns in his Swan-Song are said to have been composed
and sung in that way.
His life was rich in trials and suffering. His first wife died just as he
was preparing to go to Copenhagen for his consecration as a bishop, and
the loss affected him so deeply that only the pleading of his friends
prevented him from resigning the office. He later married a most
excellent woman, Johanne Riese, but could never forget the wife of his
youth. Several of his children preceded him in death, some of them while
still in their infancy, and others in the prime of their youth. His own
health was always delicate and he passed through several severe illnesses
from which his recovery was considered miraculous. His heaviest cross
was, perhaps, the hopeless insanity of his first-born son, who throughout
his life had to be confined to a locked and barred room as a hopeless and
dangerous lunatic. A visitor in the bishop's palace, it is related, once
remarked: "You speak so often about sorrows and trials, Bishop Brorson,
but you have your ample income and live comfortably in this fine mansion,
so how can you know about these things?" Without answering, Brorson
beckoned his visitor to follow him to the graveyard where he showed him
the grave of his wife and several of his children, and into the palace
where he showed him the sad spectacle of his insane son. Then the visitor
understood that position and material comfort are no guaranty against
sorrow.
A very sensitive man, Brorson was often deeply afflicted by his trials,
but though cast down, he was not downcast. The words of his own beloved
hymn, "Whatever I am called to bear, I must in patience suffer," no doubt
express his own attitude toward the burdens of his life. His trials
engendered in him, however, an intense yearning for release, especially
during his later years. The hymns of his _Swan-Song_ are eloquent
testimonies of his desire to depart and be at home with God.
With the passing years his health became progressively poorer and his
weakening body less able to support the strain of his exacting office. He
would listen to no plea for relaxation, however, until his decreasing
strength clearly made it impossible for him to continue. Even then he
refused to rest and planned to publish a series of weekly sermons that he
might thus continue to speak to his people. But his strength waned so
quickly that he was able to complete only one of the sermons.
On May 29, 1764, he begged a government official to complete a case
before him at his earliest convenience "for I am now seventy years old,
feeble, bedridden and praying for release from this unhappy world." Only
a day later, his illness took a grave turn for the worse. He sank into a
stupor that lasted until dusk when he awoke and said clearly, "My Jesus
is praying for me in heaven. I see it by faith and am anxious to go. Come
quickly, my Lord, and take me home!" He lingered until the morning of
June 3, when he passed away peacefully just as the great bells of the
cathedral announced the morning service.
Several fine memorials have been raised to his memory, among them an
excellent statue at the entrance to the cathedral at Ribe, and a tablet
on the inside wall of the building right beside a similar remembrance of
Hans Tausen, the leader of the Danish reformation and a former bishop of
the diocese. But the finest memorial was raised to him by his son through
the publication of _Hans Adolph Brorson's Swan-Song_, a collection of
hymns and songs selected from his unpublished writings.
The songs of the _Swan-Song_ were evidently written for the poet's own
consolation and diversion. They are of very different types and merit,
and a number of them might without loss have been left out of the
collection. A few of them stand unexcelled, however, for beauty,
sentiment and poetic excellence. There are songs of patience such as the
inimitable:
Her vil ties, her vil bies,
Her vil bies, o svage Sind.
Vist skal du hente, kun ved at vente,
Kun ved at vente, vor Sommer ind.
Her vil ties, her vil bies,
Her vil bies, o svage Sind.
which one can hardly transfer to another language without marring its
tender beauty. And there are songs of yearning such as the greatly
favored,
O Holy Ghost, my spirit
With yearning longs to see
Jerusalem
That precious gem,
Where I shall soon inherit
The home prepared for me.
But O the stormy waters!
How shall I find my way
Mid hidden shoals,
Where darkness rolls,
And join thy sons and daughters
Who dwell in thee for aye.
Lord, strengthen my assurance
Of dwelling soon with Thee,
That I may brave
The threatening wave
With firm and calm endurance;
Thyself my pilot be.
And there is "The Great White Host", most beloved of all Brorson's hymns,
which Dr. Ryden, a Swedish-American Hymnologist, calls the most popular
Scandinavian hymn in the English language. Several English translations
of this song are available. The translation presented below is from the
new English hymnal of the Danish Lutheran churches in America.
Behold the mighty, whiterobed band[8]
Like thousand snowclad mountains stand
With waving palms
And swelling psalms
Above at God's right hand.
These are the heroes brave that came
Through tribulation, war and flame
And in the flood
Of Jesus' blood
Were cleansed from sin and shame.
Now with the ransomed, heavenly Throng
They praise the Lord in every tongue,
And anthems swell
Where God doth dwell
Amidst the angels' song.
They braved the world's contempt and might,
But see them now in glory bright
With golden crowns,
In priestly gowns
Before the throne of light.
The world oft weighed them with dismay.
And tears would flow without allay,
But there above
The Saviour's love
Has wiped their tears away.
Theirs is henceforth the Sabbath rest,
The Paschal banquet of the blest,
Where fountains play
And Christ for aye
Is host as well as guest.
All hail to you, blest heroes, then!
A thousand fold is now your gain
That ye stood fast
Unto the last
And did your goal attain.
Ye spurned all worldly joy and fame,
And harvest now in Jesus' name
What ye have sown
With tears unknown
Mid angels' glad acclaim.
Lift up your voice, wave high your palm,
Compass the heavens with your psalm:
All glory be
Eternally
To God and to the Lamb.
Brorson's hymns were received with immediate favor. _The Rare Clenod of
Faith_ passed through six editions before the death of its author, and a
new church hymnal published in 1740 contained ninety of his hymns.
Pietism swept the country and adopted Brorson as its poet. But its reign
was surprisingly short. King Christian VI died in 1746, and the new king,
a luxury-loving worldling, showed little interest in religion and none at
all in Pietism. Under his influence the movement quickly waned. During
the latter part of the eighteenth century it was overpowered by a wave of
religious rationalism which engulfed the greater part of the intellectual
classes and the younger clergy. The intelligentsia adopted Voltaire and
Rousseau as their prophets and talked endlessly of the new age of
enlightenment in which religion was to be shorn of its mysteries and
people were to be delivered from the bonds of superstition.
In such an atmosphere the old hymns and, least of all, Brorson's hymns
with their mystic contemplation of the Saviour's blood and wounds could
not survive. The leading spirits in the movement demanded a new hymnal
that expressed the spirit of the new age. The preparation of such a book
was undertaken by a committee of popular writers, many of whom openly
mocked Evangelical Christianity. Their work was published under the title
_The Evangelical Christian Hymnal_, a peculiar name for a book which, as
has been justly said, was neither Evangelical nor Christian. The
compilers had eliminated many of the finest hymns of Kingo and Brorson
and ruthlessly altered others so that they were irrecognizable. To
compensate for this loss, a great number of "poetically perfect hymns" by
newer writers--nearly all of whom have happily been forgotten--were
adopted.
But while would-be leaders discarded or mutilated the old hymns and, with
a zeal worthy of a better cause, sought to force their new songs upon the
congregations, many of these clung tenaciously to their old hymnal and
stoutly refused to accept the new. In places the controversy even
developed into a singing contest, with the congregations singing the
numbers from the old hymnal and the deacons from the new. And these
contests were, of course, expressive of an even greater controversy than
the choice of hymns. They represented the struggle between pastors,
working for the spread of the new gospel, and congregations still
clinging to the old. With the highest authorities actively supporting the
new movement, the result of the contest was, however, a foregone
conclusion. The new enlightenment triumphed, and thousands of Evangelical
Christians became homeless in their own church.
During the subsequent period of triumphant Rationalism, groups of
Evangelical laymen began to hold private assemblies in their own homes
and to provide for their own spiritual nourishment by reading Luther's
sermons and singing the old hymns. In these assemblies Brorson's hymns
retained their favor until a new Evangelical awakening during the middle
part of the nineteenth century produced a new appreciation of the old
hymns and restored them to their rightful place in the worship of the
church. And the songs of the Sweet Singer of Pietism have, perhaps, never
enjoyed a greater favor in his church than they do today.
----------
[8]Another translation: "Like thousand mountains brightly crowned" by S.
D. Rodholm in "World of Song".
Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig
the Singer of Pentecost
Chapter Eleven
Grundtvig's Early Years
The latter part of the eighteenth and the earlier part of the nineteenth
century produced a number of great changes in the spiritual, intellectual
and economic life of Denmark. The strong Pietist movement at the time of
Brorson, as we have seen, lost much of its momentum with the death of
King Christian VI, and within a few years was overwhelmed by a wave of
the intellectual and religious Rationalism then engulfing a large part of
Europe. Religion, it was claimed, should be divested of its mysteries and
reason made supreme. Whatever could not justify itself before the bar of
the human intellect should be discarded as outworn conceptions of a less
enlightened age. The movement, however, comprised all shades of opinions
from pure agnosticism to an idealistic belief in God, virtue and
immortality.
Although firmly opposed by some of the most influential Danish leaders of
that day, such as the valiant bishop of Sjaelland, Johan Edinger Balle,
Rationalism swept the country with irresistible force. Invested in the
attractive robe of human enlightenment and appealing to man's natural
intellectual vanity, the movement attracted the majority of the upper
classes and a large proportion of the clergy. Its adherents studied
Rousseau and Voltaire, talked resoundingly of human enlightenment,
organized endless numbers of clubs, and--in some instances--worked
zealously for the social and economic uplift of the depressed classes.
In this latter endeavor many pastors assumed a commendable part. Having
lost the old Gospel, the men of the cloth became eager exponents of the
"social gospel" of that day. While we may not approve their Christmas
sermons "on improved methods of stable feeding," or their Easter sermons
"on the profitable cultivation of buckwheat," we cannot but recognize
their devoted labor for the educational and economic uplift, especially
of the hard-pressed peasants.
Their well-meant efforts, however, bore little fruit. The great majority
of the people had sunk into a slough of spiritual apathy from which
neither the work of the Rationalists nor the stirring events of the time
could arouse them.
The nineteenth century began threateningly for Denmark, heaping calamity
after calamity upon her. England attacked her in 1801 and 1807, robbing
her of her fine fleet and forcing her to enter the European war on the
side of Napoleon. The war wrecked her trade, bankrupted her finances and
ended with the severance of her long union with Norway in 1814. But
through it all Holger Danske slept peacefully, apparently unaware that
the very existence of the nation was threatened.
It is against this background of spiritual and national indifference that
the towering figure of Grundtvig must be seen. For it was he, more than
any other, who awakened his people from their lethargic indifference and
started them upon the road toward a happier day spiritually and
nationally.
Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig, like so many of Denmark's greatest
men, was the son of a parson. He was born September 8, 1783, at Udby, a
country parish in the south-eastern part of Sjaelland. His father, Johan
Ottesen Grundtvig, was a pastor of the old school, an upright, earnest
and staunch supporter of the Evangelical Lutheran faith. His mother,
Catherine Marie Bang, was a high-minded, finely educated woman with an
ardent love for her country, its history, traditions and culture. Her son
claimed that he had inherited his love of "song and saga" from her.
The Grundtvigs on both sides of the family were descendants of a long
line of distinguished forebears, the most famous of whom was Archbishop
Absalon, the founder of Copenhagen and one of the most powerful figures
in 13th Century Denmark. And they still had relatives in high places.
Thus Johan Edinger Balle, the formerly mentioned bishop of Sjaelland, was
a brother-in-law of Johan Grundtvig; Cathrine Grundtvig's brother, Dr.
Johan Frederik Bang, was a well-known professor of medicine and the
stepfather of Jacob Peter Mynster; and her younger sister, Susanna
Kristine Steffens, was the mother of Henrik Steffens, a professor at the
universities of Halle and Breslau, a friend of Goethe and Schiller, and a
leader of the early Romantic movement, both in Germany and Denmark.
Cathrine Grundtvig bore her husband five children, of whom Nicolaj was
the youngest. But even with such a large household to manage, she found
time to supervise the early schooling of her youngest son. She taught him
to read, told him the sagas of his people and gave him his first lessons
in the history and literature, both of his own and of other nations.
It was a period of stirring events. Wars and revolutions raged in many
parts of Europe. And these events were eagerly followed and discussed in
the parsonage. Listening to his elders, Grundtvig saw, as it were,
history in its making and acquired an interest in the subject that
produced rich fruits in later years. The wholesome Christian life of his
home and the devotional spirit of the services in his father's church
also made a deep impression upon him, an impression that even the
scepticism of his youth could not eradicate.
But his happy childhood years ended all too quickly. At the age of nine
he left his home to continue his studies under a former tutor, Pastor L.
Feld of Thyregod, a country parish in Jylland. There he spent six lonely
but quite fruitful years, receiving among other things a solid training
in the classical languages. In 1798, he completed his studies with Rev.
Feld and enrolled in the Latin school at Aarhus, the principal city of
Jylland. But the change proved most unfortunate for young Grundtvig.
Under the wise and kindly guidance of Rev. Feld he had preserved the
wholesome, eager spirit of his childhood, but the lifeless teaching, the
compulsory religious exercises and the whole spiritless atmosphere of his
new school soon changed him into an indifferent, sophisticated and
self-satisfied cynic with little interest in his studies, and none at all
in religion.
At the completion of his course, however, this attitude did not deter him
from enrolling at the University of Copenhagen with the intention of
studying for the ministry. A university education was then considered
almost indispensable to a man of his social position, and his parents
earnestly wished him to enter the church. Nor was his attitude toward
Christianity greatly different from that of his fellow students or even
from that of many pastors already preaching the emasculated gospel of
God, Virtue, and Immortality which the Rationalists held to be the true
essence of the Christian religion. Believing the important part of the
Gospel to be its ethical precepts, Grundtvig, furthermore, prided himself
upon the correctness of his own moral conduct and his ability to control
all unworthy passions. "I was at that time," he later complained,
"nothing but an insufferably vain and narrow-minded Pharisee."
From this spirit of superior self-sufficiency, only two things
momentarily aroused him during his university years--the English attacks
upon Copenhagen; and a series of lectures by his cousin, Henrik Steffens.
Steffens, as a student at Jena, had met and become an enthusiastic
disciple of Schelling, the father of natural philosophy, a pantheistic
colored conception of life, opposed to the narrowly materialistic views
of most Rationalists. Lecturing at the university during the years
1802-1803, Steffens aroused a tremendous enthusiasm, both among the
students and some of the older intellectuals. "He was a fiery speaker,"
Grundtvig remarks later, "and his lectures both shocked and inspired us
although I often laughed at him afterward."
Despite his attempt to laugh away the impression of the fiery speaker,
Grundtvig, nevertheless, retained at least two lasting memories from the
lectures--the power of the spoken word, a power that even against his
will could arouse him from his cynical indifference, and the reverence
with which Steffens spoke of Christ as "the center of history." The human
race, he contended, had sunk progressively lower and lower from the fall
of man until the time of Nero, when the process had been reversed and man
had begun the slow upward climb that was still continuing. And of this
progress the speaker in glowing terms pictured Christ as the living
center.
Grundtvig was graduated from the university in the spring of 1803. He
wished to remain in Copenhagen but could find no employment and was
forced, therefore, to return to his home. Here he remained for about a
year, after which he succeeded in obtaining a position as tutor for the
son of Lieutenant Steensen Leth of Egelykke, a large estate on the island
of Langeland.
Except for the fact that Egelykke was far from Copenhagen, Grundtvig soon
became quite satisfied with his new position. Both the manor and its
surroundings were extremely beautiful, and his work was congenial. His
employer, a former naval officer, proved to be a rough, hard-drinking
worldling; but his hostess, Constance Leth, was a charming, well-educated
woman whose cultural interests made the manor a favored gathering place
for a group of like-minded ladies from the neighborhood. And with these
cultured women, Grundtvig soon felt himself much more at home than with
his rough-spoken employer and hard-drinking companions.
But if Grundtvig unexpectedly was beginning to enjoy his stay at
Egelykke, this enjoyment vanished like a dream when he suddenly
discovered that he was falling passionately in love with his attractive
hostess. It availed him nothing that others as he well knew might have
accepted such a situation with complacence; to him it appeared an
unpardonable reproach both to his intelligence and his honor. Having
proudly asserted the ability of any intelligent man to master his
passions, he was both horrified and humiliated to discover that he could
not control his own.