Category: Featured

Hymn Histories : Lead, kindly light
Written by : John Henry Newman in 1833

I’m sure that some of you have never heard of this hymn! If not, why don’t you listen to it in the link at the bottom of the page. I chose it not only because of the story of the author but also for the stories of those who were, much later, comforted by singing this hymn in their own terrible times.

Lead, Kindly Light was written in 1833 by John Henry Newman, an Anglican vicar, out of a time of frustration. Stranded in Italy through illness and travel disasters, he was desperate to get back to England to work. The final straw came when, having eventually boarded a ship, it was becalmed for a whole week just off shore. His plans were frustrated again. But, there on the deck on that motionless ship, it came to him that perhaps God’s plan was not his plan, and wrote these words.

‘Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home
Lead Thou me on! Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene, one step enough for me.’

Maybe you’re feeling frustrated just now – not able to work, not able to see family, not able to serve the Lord in the way you want to, not able to serve others, not able to see the way ahead, the ‘distant scene’. Perhaps we need to trust that our Saviour knows the way, and can light our path, one step at a time.

Here is one of the many stories of this hymn being sung in dark times:

In the book ‘The Hiding Place’ by Corrie Ten Boom she wrote of her arrival, with her sister Betsie, at Ravensbruck Concentration Camp. As they were driven out from their tents into the darkness she wrote: ‘Women began spreading their blankets on the hard cinder ground. Slowly it dawned on Betsie and me that we were to spend the night here where we stood. We laid my blanket on the ground, stretched out side by side, and pulled hers over us.
‘The night is dark and I am far from home . . .’ Betsie’s sweet soprano was picked up by voices all around us. “Lead Thou me on. . . .”

As you listen to this beautiful version of the hymn close your eyes and imagine how the words comforted and blessed, and still do today.

Hymn Histories : There is a balm in Gilead
Written by : African-American Spiritual, author unknown
Tune : There is a balm in Gilead
Composer : African-American Spiritual, composer unknown

After two hymns arising from heart-ache, today we’re focussing on something soothing and healing – although ultimately challenging! – the old African-American spiritual, ‘There is a balm in Gilead’.

I was driving through Perthshire one evening when I first heard this in a recording by Paul Robeson. I was so moved I had to stop the car just to listen properly – you might want to listen to it now before you read on.

‘There is a balm in Gilead, to make the wounded whole;
There is a balm in Gilead, to heal the sin-sick soul.’

Gilead was famous in Old Testament times for its skilful physicians and an ointment with special qualities made from the gum of a tree peculiar to that area which many believed had mysterious, miraculous powers to heal the human body. In fact, when Joseph was sold into slavery, he was sold to a caravan taking balm from Gilead to Egypt.

Jeremiah referenced this when he cried out to his broken people, ‘Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there?’ (Jeremiah 8:22) The answer didn’t come then, but African-American Christians answered his question in this spiritual with a resounding ‘Yes, there is a balm in Gilead.’

Despite whatever condition we are in, or whatever misery or difficulty we are going through, Jesus can heal our wounds and make us whole. Do you feel today that you need the balm of Jesus Christ? How wonderful that we can call out to him now for its soothing and healing powers.

We certainly know that the world is crying out for a healing balm. Many are in pain, in so many different ways, and are reaching out for answers. We wonder how, in our Church, we can serve in these times. Could we bring the balm of Jesus Christ today to our family, to our neighbours, to our community? What would that look like for me and for you?

Maybe we can echo the spiritual as it ends:
‘If you can’t sing like angels, if you can’t preach like Paul,
Go home and tell your neighbour that He died to save us all.’

There is a Balm in Gilead sung by Paul Robeson

Hymn Histories : It is well with my soul
Written by : Horatio Spafford in 1873
Tune : Ville du Havre
Composer : Philip Bliss

It seems that many of our well-loved hymns are composed out of loss or despair, as indeed are many of the Psalms. This is certainly the case with this hymn.

Horatio Spafford was, without doubt, someone who had suffered. A lawyer by profession, his company had been hit by two financial crises in the early 1870s, so he decided to move his family from the USA to Europe for the start of a better life. He sent his wife and four daughters ahead, but tragedy struck when their ship sank with a great loss of life. Horatio received a telegram from his wife some days later, ‘SAVED, BUT SAVED ALONE. WHAT SHALL I DO?’

It’s almost impossible to imagine how terrible this loss was for them. Horatio set sail as soon as he could to be with Anna and when his ship reached the exact spot where his four daughters had drowned, and as he no doubt called out to the Lord in despair, these words filled his heart. He returned to his cabin and wrote his hymn:

‘When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.’

It seems almost incredible that he could write these words, but he did. He was given the strength to do so because he overwhelmingly knew that, in his Saviour, it was ‘well with his soul’.

I am sure that not one day passed when the couple didn’t think of their daughters, but their terrible loss had a profound impact on what they did with the rest of their lives They gave up a life of plenty and moved to Jerusalem to dedicate their lives to charity work with anyone in need. Their legacy is still there in the Spafford Children’s Centre set up by one of the daughters born to them after their loss, and still managed by the family.

Their lives turned out so differently to what they had imagined; yet they trusted in God and He used them in a new way. And, who knows, at some time that might be true of our lives; and how will we react? May we be ready and willing to step out in a way we perhaps never expected, in His strength, upheld by His love, and sure of His promise.

‘For I know the plans I have for you; plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ (Jeremiah 29:ll)