Thursday, May 24, 2007

Stories Behind the Songs - May 27, 2007

SABBATICAL INFO:
Friends, as many of you know I'll be taking at month long sabbatical starting this Friday May 25th. During my absence John Brewer our worship associate will be leading the worship. We'll post stories for the songs this Sunday and next Sunday, then we'll take a break while I'm out. We'll start back with more info in July. Still check back on the blog as I'll be posting info during my time off.
"Sweet Hour of Prayer"
The Handbell ministry will present an arrangement of this hymn.
William Walford wrote the words:
During my re­si­dence at Coles­hill, War­wick­shire, Eng­land, I be­came ac­quaint­ed with W. W. Wal­ford, the blind preach­er, a man of ob­scure birth and con­nect­ions and no ed­u­ca­tion, but of strong mind and most re­ten­tive mem­o­ry. In the pul­pit he ne­ver failed to se­lect a less­on well adapt­ed to his sub­ject, giv­ing chap­ter and verse with un­err­ing pre­ci­sion and scarce­ly ev­er mis­plac­ing a word in his re­pe­ti­tion of the Psalms, ev­ery part of the New Tes­ta­ment, the pro­phe­cies, and some of the his­to­ries, so as to have the rep­u­ta­tion of “know­ing the whole Bi­ble by heart.” He ac­tu­al­ly sat in the chim­ney cor­ner, em­ploy­ing his mind in com­pos­ing a ser­mon or two for Sab­bath de­liv­ery, and his hands in cut­ting, shap­ing and po­lish­ing bones for shoe horns and other lit­tle use­ful im­ple­ments. At in­ter­vals he at­tempt­ed po­e­try. On one oc­ca­sion, pay­ing him a vi­sit, he re­peat­ed two or three piec­es which he had co­mposed, and hav­ing no friend at home to commit them to paper, he had laid them up in the store­house within. “How will this do?” asked he, as he re­peat­ed the fol­low­ing lines, with a com­pla­cent smile touched with some light lines of fear lest he sub­ject him­self to cri­ti­cism. I ra­pid­ly co­pied the lines with my pen­cil, as he ut­tered them, and sent them for in­ser­tion in the Ob­serv­er, if you should think them worthy of pre­ser­va­tion.

“Lord, Reign in Me”
Click here to listen to the song by Brenton Brown
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcXnugDRy-U&mode=related&search= Here is Brentons' myspace site
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=74875704
Here is the Brentons' website
http://www.brentonbrownmusic.com/


“Draw Me Close”
Click here to read a story about Kelly Carpenter and how he wrote the song http://www.integritymusic.com/worship/story/0203.html
Click here to read an interesting dialogue between Bob Kauflin & Chuck Colson on the merits of this song and how some people have rejected this song. It is an interesting read, and should lead all of us to examine the intent of the songs we sing. Are we really engaged with the message and lyrics or are we just going through the motions?
http://worshipmatters.blogs.com/bobkauflin/2006/04/qa_friday_enter.html

"Give Me Jesus" worship choir
This song is one of our choirs' favorites. We first sang it at the one year anniversary of 911. The song is an arrangement of an old spiritual. There are several arrangements.

Our arrangement is patterned after Fernando Ortega Click here to sing along with Fernado
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FxKy_NxB398&mode=related&search=
Click here for an arrangement of the song by Jeremy Camp
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Dca0P7w9ZQ
Click here for even another recording and an excellent guitar solo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jE-10IKfMxQ&mode=related&search=

“Victory in Jesus”
This is one of those standard hymns for baptist churches. The song was written by southern baptist Eugene Bartlett. Eugene's son Gene Bartlett was the Director of Church music for the state of Oklahoma for 25 years. I had the opportunity to attend "Uncle Gene's" funeral in Oklahoma City. At the funeral the grandson of the composer led the congregation in singing this great hymn. I'll never forget that moment, watching Eugene's grandson lead the congregation in this great song.

Eugene Monroe Bartlett Senior was born on Christmas Eve of 1885. He wrote the words to this hymn -- his last song -- in 1939. Mr. Bartlett was well known as a gospel singer, writer, teacher, editor, and publisher. He was inducted into the Gospel Music Hall of Fame in 1979.The words from this well-known and cherished hymn remind us that we can experience victory in Jesus every day of our lives.

I heard an old, old story,
How a Savior came from glory,
How He gave His life on Calvary
To save a wretch like me;
I heard about His groaning,
Of His precious blood's atoning,
Then I repented of my sins;
And won the victory.


O victory in Jesus,My Savior, forever.
He sought me and bought me
With His redeeming blood;
He loved me ere I knew Him,
And all my love is due Him,
He plunged me to victory,
Beneath the cleansing flood.

I heard about His healing,
Of His cleansing power revealing.
How He made the lame to walk again
And caused the blind to see;
And then I cried, "Dear Jesus,
Come and heal my broken spirit,
And somehow Jesus came and brought To me the victory.

I heard about a mansion
He has built for me in glory.
And I heard about the streets of gold
Beyond the crystal sea;
About the angels singing,
And the old redemption story,
And some sweet day I'll sing up there
The song of victory.

Click here for a clip from one of the homecoming concerts, Cynthia Clawson, Mike Allen & Joy Gardner singing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPv_S3RpIF4&mode=related&search=
Click here to sing along
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uA_GPPSgRuQ&mode=related&search=
Click here to hear a great organ solo on "Victory in Jesus"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ae_b3sYB8Uo&mode=related&search=
Click here for a great country version
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vaFo3ZW_MTQ&mode=related&search=


"RESCUE"
Click here to listen to the story behind the song: http://www.theheartofworship.org/stories/Story-232-Rescue-Anderson.mp3
Click here to listen to the song on Jared's myspace. http://myspace.com/jaredandersonmusic
Trivia question: The Battle Hymn of the Republic was written on the banks of what River? email your answer to mark@firsthurst.com

“There is a Fountain”
This is one of the first hymns William Cow­per wrote af­ter his first at­tack of tem­po­ra­ry mad­ness. Cow­per had been prom­ised a post as Clerk of the Jour­nal to the House of Lords, but was dis­mayed up­on learn­ing he would have to un­der­go a pub­lic ex­am­in­a­tion in the House be­fore be­gin­ning his du­ties. The fol­low­ing ar­ti­cle from the North Amer­i­can Re­view, Jan­u­a­ry, 1834, de­scribes his di­lem­ma, and how God pre­vent­ed him from de­stroy­ing him­self:

As the time drew nigh, his agony became more and more in­tense; he hoped and be­lieved that mad­ness would come to relieve him; he attempted also to make up his mind to commit su­i­cide, though his conscience bore stern testimony against it; he could not by any argument per­suade himself that it was right, but this des­per­a­tion pre­vailed, and he pro­cured from an apothecary the means of self-destruction. On the day before his public appearance was to be made, he happened to notice a letter in the newspaper, which to his dis­or­dered mind seemed like a ma­lig­nant li­bel on himself. He im­med­i­ate­ly threw down the pa­per and rushed into the fields, de­ter­mined to die in a ditch, but the thought struck him that he might es­cape from the count­ry. With the same vi­o­lence he pro­ceed­ed to make hasty prep­ar­a­tions for his flight; but while he was en­gaged in pack­ing his port­man­teau his mind changed, and he threw him­self into a coach, or­der­ing the man to drive to the Tower wharf, in­tend­ing to throw him­self in­to the ri­ver, and not re­flect­ing that it would be im­poss­i­ble to ac­comp­lish his pur­pose in that pub­lic spot. On ap­proach­ing the wa­ter, he found a por­ter seated upon some goods: he then re­turned to the coach and was con­veyed to his lodg­ings at the Temple. On the way he at­tempt­ed to drink the laud­a­num, but as oft­en as he raised it, a con­vuls­ive agi­ta­tion of his frame pre­vent­ed it from reach­ing his lips; and thus, re­gret­ting the loss of the op­por­tun­i­ty, but un­a­ble to avail him­self of it, he ar­rived, half dead with an­guish, at his apart­ment. He then shut the doors and threw him­self upon the bed with the laud­a­num near him, try­ing to lash himself up to the deed; but a voice within seemed con­stant­ly to for­bid it, and as of­ten as he ex­tend­ed his hand to the poi­son, his fing­ers were con­tract­ed and held back by spasms.
At this time one of the in­mates of the place came in, but he con­cealed his ag­i­ta­tion, and as soon as he was left alone, a change came over him, and so de­test­a­ble did the deed ap­pear, that he threw away the laud­a­num and dashed the vial to pieces. The rest of the day was spent in heavy insensibility, and at night he slept as usual; but on waking at three in the morning, he took his penknife and lay with his weight upon it, the point toward his heart. It was brok­en and would not pen­e­trate. At day break he arose, and pas­sing a strong gar­ter around his neck, fast­ened it to the frame of his bed: this gave way with his weight, but on securing it to the door, he was more successful, and remained suspended till he had lost all consciousness of existence. After a time the garter broke and he fell to the floor, so that his life was saved.; but the conflict had been greater than his reason could endure. He felt for himself a contempt not to be expressed or imagined; whenever he went into the street, it seemed as if every eye flashed upon him with indignation and scorn; he felt as if he had offended God so deep­ly that his guilt could ne­ver be for­giv­en, and his whole heart was filled with tu­mult­u­ous pangs of despair. Mad­ness was not far off, or rather mad­ness was al­ready come. Af­ter re­cov­er­ing, Cow­per came to real­ize how God can erase the stain of any sin.


There is a fountain filled with blood
drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see
that fountain in his day;
And there have I, though vile as he,
washed all my sins away.

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
shall never lose its power
Till all the ransomed church of God
be saved, to sin no more.

E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream
Thy flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming love has been my theme,
and shall be till I die.

"Jesus Paid it All"

I received this email from Alex Nefong in England who wrote the song:
Sure man... I have an old hymnal that I frequently play through sometimes during my private times alone with the Lord. I was playing through that song one day in Jan of 05 and I just started praying and singing out the phrase O praise the One who paid my debt and raised this life up from the dead. It was as simple as that. Just a prayer that came right out of my heart. Thanks for asking Mark.

This is a new arrangement of the old hymn, based on the recording from the Passion album "Everything glorious". It adds a new line "O praise the One who paid my debt and raised this life up from the dead". Check out the composer of the tag on his website www.alexnifong.com/ Here’s a story about the song:

The words were written by Elvina M. Hall and the music by John T. Grape on New Year’s night, 1886, some missionaries were holding open-air services in order to attract passers-by to a near-by mission, where meetings were to be held later. "All to Christ I owe" was sung, and after a gentleman had given a short address he hastened away to the mission. He soon heard footsteps close behind him and a young woman caught up with him and said: "I heard you addressing the open-air meeting just now; do you think, sir, that Jesus could save a sinner like me?"The gentleman replied that there was no doubt about that, if she was anxious to be saved. She told him that she was a servant girl, and had left her place that morning after a disagreement with her mistress. As she had been wandering about the streets in the dark, wondering where she was to spend the night, the sweet melodies of this hymn had attracted her, and she drew near and listened attentively. As the different verses were being sung, she felt that the words surely had something to do with her. Through the whole service she seemed to hear what met her oppressed soul’s need at that moment. God’s Spirit had showed her what a poor, sinful and wretched creature she was, and had led her to ask what she must do. On hearing her experience, the gentleman took her back to the mission and left her with the ladies in charge. The young, wayward woman was brought to Christ that night. A situation was secured for her in a minister’s family. There she became ill and had to be taken to a hospital. She rapidly failed and it became evident that she would not be long on earth. One day the gentleman whom she had met on New Year’s night was visiting her in the ward. After quoting a few suitable verses of Scripture, he repeated her favorite hymn, "All to Christ I owe"…and she seemed overwhelmed with the thought of coming to glory…Two hours afterward she passed away.

You can listen to "Jesus Paid it All" by clicking here www.firsthurst.com/HURST_worship_resources.php
Click here to worship along
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onxhvivQYfI
Click here to worship along with a younger generation led by Kristian Stanfill:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-OOjfaBGnA&mode=related&search=
You can go here to Kristians' myspace and click on the song just to listen
http://www.myspace.com/kristianstanfill
WOW - here it is in Spanish
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zRRBtWP_buA

SERMON
Escape From Judgement (Hebrews 2:3; 9:27-28; 1 Thess. 5:2-3)

Offertory "Battle Hymn of the Republic" by the Handbell ministry.
Words by Julia W. Howe 1861. This hymn was born dur­ing the Amer­i­can ci­vil war, when Howe vis­it­ed a Un­ion Ar­my camp on the Po­to­mac Riv­er near Wash­ing­ton, D. C. She heard the sol­diers sing­ing the song “John Brown’s Body,” and was tak­en with the strong march­ing beat. She wrote the words the next day:

"I awoke in the grey of the morn­ing, and as I lay wait­ing for dawn, the long lines of the de­sired po­em be­gan to en­twine them­selves in my mind, and I said to my­self, “I must get up and write these vers­es, lest I fall asleep and for­get them!” So I sprang out of bed and in the dim­ness found an old stump of a pen, which I re­mem­bered us­ing the day be­fore. I scrawled the vers­es al­most with­out look­ing at the p­aper."

The hymn ap­peared in the At­lant­ic Month­ly in 1862. It was sung at the fun­er­als of Brit­ish states­man Win­ston Church­ill, Amer­i­can sen­at­or Ro­bert Ken­ne­dy, and Am­er­i­can pre­si­dents Ron­ald Rea­gan and Ri­chard Nix­on.
Music: John Brown’s Bo­dy, poss­i­bly by John Will­iam Steffe
John Brown was an Amer­i­can abo­li­tion­ist who led a short lived in­­sur­­rect­­ion to free the slaves.

No comments: