Age and Stage

I get to plan and lead music for worship in churches occasionally which, at my age and stage, is plenty often. Many of my peers and I have spent way more than half of our lives on the regular, never-ending seven-day cycle that eventually wears down even the best in the business. Ministry in the church is a calling with year-round implications. My hunch, though, is that most in that fraternity look back on music ministry with delight and deep gratitude -- as it should be. 

Joe has graciously invited me to pinch-hit for him in a couple of weeks while he makes an attempt to get a little well-deserved distance from the grind before cranking up a new season mid-August. Early prep for that Sunday has revealed or maybe just reminded me of one thing I miss most about the once weekly routine -- chewing on a sermon text and mining the hymnal for fodder that supports and amplifies it. 

I worked with four pastors at First Baptist Church, Nashville, the longest time (ten years) with our current pastor. It was a blessing to be paired with him because he always affirmed what I brought to scripting services and never seemed to resent it or feel threatened by it. Not every minister is so fortunate. 

For that approaching Sunday, I seemed to have found a perfect matching hymn -- "Lord of All Hopefulness." Although a few years shy of a hundred, it was spanking new to me when we were building the Celebrating Grace Hymnal (#678) ten years ago by now. It has been included in several hymnals but it needed a new tune so we turned to veteran tunesmith -- and friend -- David Schwoebel. Admittedly, his tender and singable melody has no little to do with my choice and love of the hymn. 

Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy,
     whose trust ever child-like, no cares could destroy:
     be there at our waking, and give us, we pray,
     Your bliss in our hearts, Lord, at the break of the day.

Lord of all eagerness, Lord of all faith,
     whose strong hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe:
     be there at our labors, and give us, we pray,
     Your strength in our hearts, Lord, at the noon of the day.

Lord of all kindliness, Lord of all grace,
     Your hands swift to welcome, Your arms to embrace:
     be there at our homing, and give us, we pray,
     Your love in our hearts, Lord, at the eve of the day.

Lord of all gentleness, Lord of all calm,
     whose voice is contentment, whose presence is balm:
     be there at our sleeping, and give us, we pray,
     Your peace in our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day.

Words – Jan Struther, from Enlarged Songs of Praise, 1931 © Oxford University Press

If we consider only the final phrase of each stanza, we get the idea the hymn is probably about God’s presence in lives all day long. But a closer look reveals that “day” is a metaphor for one’s whole life -- childhood, working years, the “fourth quarter,” and even in death.

The first half of each stanza says something important about a season of Jesus’ life and the second half implores the Father “be there in our…” helping us live like Jesus in our same seasons. It is a well-conceived and well-crafted hymn of faith.

For those who worship elsewhere, that Sunday Frank is preaching from Hebrews 11:20-22 which cites Old Testament Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph -- old guys, all lifetime pillars of faith -- gentle and content at the end of their lives, blessing, worshiping, and recalling the Lord’s deliverance.  Should that not the highest desire of the believers’ heart?

Thinking about all this, it dawned on me that a lot of this hymn describes Honey to a tee, perhaps most accurately stanza four. As she moved toward the end of life, there were extra evidence of gentleness, calm, and contentment borne out of a keen sense of the Lord’s presence which the hymn describes as balm. “Be there at our sleeping, and give us, we pray, Your peace in our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day.” He sure was and He certainly did.

Thanks be to God!

- Mark

How We Made It Through by Mark Edwards: Part One

In a previous post, I mentioned two fellow church musicians who have lost their wives to cancer already this calendar year calling and asking, in essence, how we made it through Honey’s journey and death at the hands of cancer.  I’ve thought about that some, and, in addition to God ever-presence and love, I can identify four things that I’ll describe here and in the next three installments.

The most important thing is simply who Honey was.   She led the way.  She showed us, showed me how to do this.  She was a glass half-full person whereas I’m more the half-empty type.  We took her tack and it definitely was the right one.

My favorite uncle, an articulate and almost poetic preacher, used to say, “the older we get, the more like ourselves we become.” Though not obsessed or embarrassed about it, Honey never forgot nor took lightly the unmistakable hand of God in her life that began with a birth mother who chose adoption over abortion.  She never forgot to be grateful for her wonderful adoptive parents – who also adopted two others – and the charmed life she enjoyed for 61 years.  Her last two years were hard but not horrible, because as Uncle Glen would have said, “the older she got, the more like herself she became.”  She was grateful and joyful at having been “chosen” and blessed when her life could have turned out much differently. 

There was no pretense about Honey.  She was who she was and she was the same with everyone.  In a room full of smart people or the illiterate, rich or poor, with people who looked like us or otherwise, she treated all the same and typically gravitated to the seemingly “least of these.”  I observed this so many times in countless medical settings during her illness.  That’s just the way she was, she was joyful about it, and we all loved her for it. 

She could adjust to nearly any situation, have a good attitude about it (usually), and make the very best of it.  She was one of the most adaptable people I have ever known.  Although she was highly organized and had her usual, basic daily routine fairly well set, she didn’t mind altering it if necessary.  I suspect that was because she was unselfish to a fault, always considering the needs and well-being of others first. 

As I said earlier, Honey was not the out-front-type person.  She didn’t “command the room” but she sure could light up any room with her smile. Behind the scene, in the background and deep inside, she was a gentle and loving steel magnolia.  In the midst of life’s biggest challenge, life’s lowest place she became more and more like herself and it rubbed off on everyone around her.  (If she were reading this right now, she would look at me, frown in disbelief, and say “WHAT?”)

In our nearly 45 years of marriage, I was pretty much the leader of our family and she was good with that.  But in her illness, she stepped up – no, actually she became just more and more like herself – and we all were good with that.  The journey was easier because she was shining the light on the winding path and up the steep hill.

It makes one wonder how our becoming more and more like ourselves will serve us and those around us as we march toward the end of the road.  Hmm!

Here’s a wonderful Celebrating Grace Hymnal hymn (#678 – set to a fresh David Schwoebel tune) to which Honey “subscribed.”

Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy,

whose trust, ever childlike, no cares could destroy:

be there at our waking and give us, we pray,

Your bliss in our hearts, Lord, at the break of the day.

Lord of all eagerness, Lord of all faith,

whose strong hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe:

be there at our labors and give us, we pray,

Your strength in our hearts, Lord, at the noon of the day.

Lord of all kindliness, Lord of all grace,

Your hands swift to welcome, Your arms to embrace:

be there at our homing and give us we pray,

Your love in our hearts, Lord, at the eve of the day.

Lord of all gentleness, Lord of all calm,

whose voice is contentment, whose presence is balm:

be there at our sleeping and give us, we pray,

Your peace in our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day.

               “Lord of All Hopefulness” – Jan Struther, 1931 (Oxford University Press)

 - Mark

Familarity Makes Sense of the Scary: David Schwoebel on Notes from Susie

David Schwoebel, Minister of Music and Composer

Most of us are unique creatures of habit - same favorite morning drink to get us going, preferred piece of exercise equipment at the gym, consistent taste buds and regular eating schedules, etc. The sense of routine both grounds us and gives comforting stability to our chaotic lives. At times, life’s consistent, mindless patterns can cause us to do things by rote without a deepening thought of why we do them or what we can truly gain from them. Thoughtless routine can also apply to our hymn singing.

Those who have sung the hymns of our faith for many years have indeed enriched their Christian walk in a grand way! The routine of singing hymns shapes and centers us in our core beliefs. However, most of us could confess to being distracted, at least once, to absentmindedly bellowing out a tune without a true, intelligent connection to the rich, sustaining text being sung. When life’s significant challenges enter our lives we yearn to return to the comfortable, familiar routine and dig even deeper in our faith experiences. Familiarity helps us make sense of scary, unknown concerns. In those sullen, dark moments, hymns of our faith offer us a refreshing perspective and much needed encouragement. An inspired, insightful text, riding on a beloved melody, can sharpen our awareness of the rich theology and profound thoughts we have sung all our lives. Susie and Mark Edwards found these things to be true. 

With their intense love for and knowledge of hymnody, and a totally open ministry spirit, Mark and Susie provided my family, along with the Derbyshire Chancel Choir, a “ringside seat” to their daily walk during Susie’s illness. The old and new hymn texts they chose to close their daily postings were wonderfully poignant and most revealing of their faithful pilgrimage. Many days, without its companion tune attached, the texts shared were viewed from a completely different angle than all the years of singing ever provided. To this day, those groundbreaking realizations re-enter our minds when we sing those hymns. I believe such refreshing revelations are one of the many hallmark artistic beauties and true strengths of God-inspired hymnody. The Christian’s song is never irrelevant and continually offers an enriching experience to each who will routinely mine its deep riches!  

David Schwoebel
Minister of Music and Composer in Residence
Derbyshire Baptist Church, Richmond, VA