Suffering with the Hymn Writers
I was not prepared for this. A worldwide epidemic has never really crossed my mind as something that I would live in. It seems so distant—so removed from American, western affluence and prosperity. Current cultural stories of “finding myself”, “letting it go”, and “being true to myself” are invalidated when tragedy and suffering strike. Sadly, much of the mainstream, evangelical church in the United States has not set us up well to encounter suffering, especially related to the songs that we sing. As a preface, this writing is not meant to disparage all of contemporary Christian music. There are many of those who have written beautiful and theologically sound contemporary music for the church (see Keith & Kristyn Getty, City Alight, Sandra McCracken, Audrey Assad, The Porter’s Gate, and countless others). What I do believe, however, is many of the mainstream, Christian songs we sing disallow a wider spectrum of human emotion and struggle, in contrast to many of the emotionally diverse, theologically and Biblically rich hymns of old.
My mentor and RUF Campus Minister in college, Kevin Twit, used to say that so many of his students would arrive at college trying to return to a mountaintop experience he/she had at middle school camp. Those words pierced my soul the first time I heard them as I knew that he was describing me. I was that sophomore student, who had recently transferred to Belmont, who had struggled greatly my first year of college and was looking to return to the pique of Christian experience, which for me meant unceasing excitement and positivity. But, that was not how I felt. I was sad, depressed, unmotivated, and searching for answers. I do not and will not remember everything that Kevin preached, taught in a small group, or spoke to me one-on-one, but I will always remember the hymns that we sung.
These hymns are ones that, unlike Ron Weasley as described by Hermione Granger, do not have the emotional range of a teaspoon. I could sing the words of Anne Steele, “Dear refuge of my weary soul, on Thee, when sorrows rise, on Thee when waves of trouble roll, my fainting hope relies.” I could also plead, as we are all doing now, to “Heal Us Emmanuel…Our faith is feeble, we confess, we faintly trust Thy Word; but will you pity us the less? Be that far from you Lord!” This hymn in particular, written by William Cowper as a part of the Olney Hymn collection was meant to be a memorial of the friendship between John Newton and William Cowper. There are many layers of healing here. John Newton fought diligently to combat the slave trade, so there is a sense of societal justice. William Cowper also was incapacitated by mental illness during the collection of the Olney hymns.
Today we can sing this hymn as we grieve and lament over the death of loved ones and strangers all around the world, and the millions of people who are unemployed and cannot support their families. We can sing “Heal Us, Emmanuel”, and like the Psalmist in Psalm 13, cry out “How long O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” Those are scary words to sing and pray, but I love how this Psalm ends with the Psalmist writing, “but I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because He has dealt bountifully with me.” Lament and grief are not incompatible with faith and joy. We see that both through the narrative and contents of Scripture and through so many of these wonderful hymns. Therefore, lament and weep this week, this Holy Week, while rising with the greatest news in history on Sunday Morning that Good Friday was not the end. Rise and proclaim the beautiful gospel truth that Christ is risen; He is risen indeed!