There is a Hope | Abide with Me

Liturgy Lesson: February 21, 2021 (1st Sunday in Lent)
Call to Worship: Ps. 33:1-12
Prayer of Invocation
Hymn of Adoration: Our Great God
Confession: Ps. 33:13-15 and prayer
Assurance of Pardon: Philippians 3:1-11
Assurance: There is a Hope
Catechism/Prayers
Reading of the Word: Luke 22:47-53
Doxology: #731
Sermon: “The Hour of Darkness,” Rev. Eric Irwin
Tithes and Offerings
Supper: Abide with Me; In Christ Alone
Benediction

The Agony
By George Herbert

Philosophers have measur’d mountains,
Fathom’d the depths of the seas, of states, and kings,
Walk’d with a staff to heav’n, and traced fountains:
But there are two vast, spacious things,
The which to measure it doth more behove:
Yet few there are that sound them; Sin and Love.
Who would know Sin, let him repair
Unto mount Olivet; there shall he see
A man so wrung with pains, that all his hair,
His skin, his garments bloody be.
Sin is that press and vice, which forceth pain
To hunt his cruel food through ev’ry vein.
Who knows not Love, let him assay
And taste that juice, which on the cross a pike
Did set again abroach, then let him say
If ever he did taste the like.
Love is that liquor sweet and most divine,
Which my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.

“For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing,
but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”
– 1 Cor. 1:18

This is the first Sunday in Lent, the (roughly) six-week period in the Christian liturgical calendar that lasts from Ash Wednesday to Easter. It is traditionally a time of prayer, fasting, self-denial, and repentance, during which the Christian believer draws closer to God by following the example of Christ, who fasted in the wilderness for forty days.

There is perhaps no other liturgical season of the church that is more countercultural than Lent. In an era of glut and fullness, the Christian empties out. In a culture of indulgence and entertainment, the Christian fasts and prays. In a western ideological world where the self is sovereign, the Christian denies himself, takes up his cross, and follows Jesus. Lent, therefore, is a time to re-establish disciplines and habits that can be, in essence, syncing our heartbeats with the rhythm of Christ’s, and tuning our lives in harmony with His. It is a season of turning our compass back to true north and charting our course toward the Word in the wilderness.

This is our true GPS (God’s Powerful Summons) that calls to us: “Come away my Beloved.” Those who follow this pilgrim’s path may find it to be rough and rock-strewn, but ultimately it leads them to a “broad, spacious place” (Ps. 18:19) where delight and deliverance await. Here in the quiet places we can hear the Triune chord in all its harmonic fullness. This is the beautiful and barren place where, at the behest of the Father, the Spirit has led the Son. And so, we too shall follow his footsteps and find the place where our Savior prayed. There we can kneel in the twin hollows of the rock, the place worn smooth by his knees. When faced with our cravings, we can answer with him, “Man shall not live by bread alone” (Lk. 4:4). When the tempter holds out the ripe red apple, our Savior can stay our hand and teach us how to pray: “You shall worship the Lord your God, and him only shall you serve” (Lk. 4:8).

Brothers and sisters, “seek and you shall find” (Matt. 7:7). “Draw near to him and he will draw near to you” (James 4:8). “For the Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand. The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore” (Ps. 121).

If you find yourself in a stark and barren place, if all around you is wasteland, hear, once again, his voice.

“I will open rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the midst of the valleys. I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water” (Isaiah 41:18).

Our Savior’s tears have created for us an oasis in the desert. There is cool shade under his tree, and living water flowing from the Rock. Come away, beloved, and be satisfied.

There is a Hope
Words and Music by Stuart Townend and Mark Edwards

This hymn is a bit like a Lenten discipline. It takes effort, but once established, it is deeply rewarding. The melody is through-composed, which means that there are no repeating sections throughout each verse. This is something that is common from classical composers, but it is rare in hymns. Most of our hymns have a verse-refrain structure or set form (AABA, for example) that make them more predictable from line to line. However, this challenging tune does have an inevitability about its cadences, and despite a wide range (more than the national anthem) it is quite singable. The music was written by a classical pianist, which explains a bit of its complexity and beauty.

I was introduced to this hymn by good friends in Northern Ireland, where, evidently, it is a favorite among many of the protestant churches. The text is by one of the most gifted and respected modern lyricists of our time, Stuart Townend, who authored “In Christ Alone,” “My Heart is Filled with Thankfulness,” and countless others. God has really used Stuart to gift English-speaking Christians with countless accessible lyrics they can passionately sing. In my opinion, this is some of his best work.

This hymn text is about the hope we have in Christ, and in the unfailing promises of God’s word. We know our hope will be fulfilled and all our longings satisfied when we see him face to face; thus, each verse ends with the word “home.” The book of Hebrews has a couple of sections that seemed to inspire the writing of this hymn. “Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful” (Heb. 10:23) and “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure” (Heb. 6:19).

The hymn begins with a strong creed-like declaration of our identity in Christ. Then it gives way to the second verse, which is achingly honest and so deeply encouraging. I have not been able to practice this verse at the piano without shedding a tear. The final verse speaks of the profound joy, beauty, and bliss of heaven.

There is a hope that burns within my heart,
That gives me strength for every passing day;
A glimpse of glory now revealed in meagre part,
Yet drives all doubt away:
I stand in Christ, with sins forgiven;
And Christ in me, the hope of heaven!
My highest calling and my deepest joy,
To make His will my home.

There is a hope that stands the test of time,
That lifts my eyes beyond the beckoning grave,
To see the matchless beauty of a day divine
When I behold His face!
When sufferings cease and sorrows die,
And every longing satisfied.
Then joy unspeakable will flood my soul,
For I am truly home.

– Recording

Abide With Me
Text: Henry Francis Lyte, 1847
Music: EVENTIDE, William Henry Monk, 1861

Scripture References:

st. 1 = Luke 24:29, Ps. 27:9

st. 2 = James 1:17, Ps. 102:26-27

st. 3 = Rom. 16:20

st. 4 = Ps. 27:1, 1 Cor. 15:55

st. 5 = 2 Pet. 1:19

Henry Francis Lyte was an Anglican minister who was also a celebrated poet. His three most-beloved hymns are “Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven,” “Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken,” and “Abide with Me.” It is this last one that has had the most enduring and popular appeal in both the church and broader culture. This hymn is generally considered a prayer for God to abide with the individual throughout life, through trials, and through death. The opening line alludes to Luke 24:29 “Abide with us: for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent,” and the penultimate verse draws on text from 1 Cor. 15:55 “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”. If we look closer, we will see that this hymn carries a timely message for us during the pandemic, for the real story of this hymn is that it was written in the face of death.

For most of his life, Lyte suffered from poor health, and he would regularly travel for medical reasons. The first seeds of the hymn were planted when Henry Lyte was visiting a dying friend. As Lyte sat bedside, the sick man kept repeating the phrase “Abide With Me…”. Some years later, Lyte felt his own end approaching at the age of 54, when he developed tuberculosis. His daughter, Anna Maria Maxwell Hogg, recounts the story of how “Abide with Me” came out of that context:

“The summer was passing away, and the month of September (that month in which he was once more to quit his native land) arrived, and each day seemed to have a special value as being one day nearer his departure. His family were surprised and almost alarmed at his announcing his intention of preaching once more to his people. His weakness and the possible danger attending the effort, were urged to prevent it, but in vain. ‘It was better,’ as he used to say often playfully, when in comparative health, ‘to wear out than to rust out.’ He felt that he should be enabled to fulfil his wish, and feared not for the result. His expectation was well founded. He did preach, and amid the breathless attention of his hearers, gave them a sermon on the Holy Communion…In the evening of the same day he placed in the hands of a near and dear relative the little hymn, ‘Abide with Me,’ with an air of his own composing, adapted to the words.”

Just weeks later, on 20 November 1847 in Nice, Lyte died. The hymn was sung for the very first time at Lyte’s funeral. A big reason for the lasting appeal of this hymn is the graceful melody written by William Henry Monk, who professed to have knocked it out in about 10 minutes. As the story goes, Monk was attending a hymnal committee meeting for the 1861 edition of Hymns Ancient and Modern of which he was music editor. Realizing that this text had no tune, Monk sat down at the piano and composed EVENTIDE. The hymn was then published in that edition of Hymns Ancient and Modern. The music has always been associated with this text. It is a marvelous and elegant tune that captures the resignation and desperation of a soul clinging to its savior.

Abide with me: fast falls the eventide;
the darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes.
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven’s morning breaks and earth’s vain shadows flee;
in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

– Sheet music
– Recording