Today's post is by guest writer Matt Bassford, and was originally printed in the emagazine Pressing On edited by Mark Roberts.  Contact me (left sidebar) for subscription information.

For years, I’ve been an advocate of using quality hymns in worship. Not surprisingly, there are plenty of folks who disagree with me, particularly when I get to picking on contemporary praise songs that I don’t think are useful in congregational worship. They’ve even been known to get upset about it. It’s like I called their dog ugly or something.

One of the most common countercharges is that I don’t like the contemporary songs I don’t like because I’m stuck in the past. According to this way of thinking, I believe the only good hymns are the ones written in the 19th century, filled with “Thee” and “Thou”, and possessed of syntax so convoluted that only Yoda could love it. Oh, and the music has to sound like it was born on a pipe organ too.

There are certainly people who believe such things, but I’m not one of them. I think “Abide with Me” is a wonderful hymn, but not every hymn has to sound like “Abide with Me” to be good. Instead, my usual indictment of many modern worship songs is that 1) they lack strong Biblical content, and 2) the music is too complicated for a congregation to learn easily.

Neither one of these things is a necessary attribute of sacred songs written in the past 50 years, though such songs often fail on one or both counts. Rather, they are frequently problems because modern authors and composers generally don’t make good content and congregationality their priorities, particularly the latter.

Chris Tomlin doesn’t write music for me and my modest range. He writes music for Chris Tomlin, Chris Tomlin’s wonderful range, and Chris Tomlin’s backup band of professional musicians. Most brethren, however, have musical gifts much more like mine than like Chris Tomlin’s. Is it any wonder when they struggle with the Chris Tomlin repertoire?

However, when contemporary writers pay attention to content and the musical abilities of ordinary worshipers, they can turn out some excellent work that is eminently suitable for use in our assemblies. By now, most brethren are familiar with “In Christ Alone”, written by Stuart Townend and Keith and Kristin Getty. Together and separately, they’ve written plenty of other hymns that are comparable in quality and usefulness. The same goes for Bob Kauflin and the many writers who have been associated with Sovereign Grace through the years.

Recently, the Australian group CityAlight has attracted my attention (the tagline on their website is “Christian worship music with Biblically rich lyrics”, which is a good sign). Yes, they use drums and guitars, but brethren have been adapting denominational hymns for a-cappella use since the Restoration. We can do it here too.

Consider, for instance, the CityAlight song “Jesus Strong and Kind”, which I recently encountered for the first time. Its lyrics are:

1. Jesus said that if I thirst
I should come to Him;
No one else can satisfy;
I should come to Him.
2. Jesus said if I am weak
I should come to Him;
No one else can be my strength;
I should come to Him.
Chorus:
For the Lord is good and faithful;
He will keep us day and night;
We can always run to Jesus,
Jesus, strong and kind.
3. Jesus said that if I fear
I should come to Him;
No one else can be my shield;
I should come to Him.
(Chorus)
4. Jesus said if I am lost
He will come to me;
And He showed me on that cross
He will come to me.
(Chorus)

That’s good. It doesn’t look like the hymns Isaac Watts wrote, nor yet like the hymns I write. It’s still good. It reveals Biblical study and contemplation, it is focused, and it is deeply meaningful to the believer, especially those who also have spent time in study of the word.

If I may indulge in hymn-geekery for a moment, it’s also good because of its structural strength. Like many modern praise songs, it doesn’t use a strong rhyme scheme and can’t develop structure that way. Instead, it employs repetition, mixed with a few powerful word changes, as its structural element. The change from “thirst” and “satisfy” to “weak” and “strength” makes v. 2 meaningfully different from v. 1, even though most of the words are the same. However, the whole still has unity because of those similarities.

The music is also (or should be, at least) congregationally accessible. The use of verses means that brethren who learn music by rote don’t have to learn as much. The range is limited to a congregation-friendly octave, C to C in the original sheet music, though I’d probably raise it to D or Eb for four-part a-cappella use. I like the tune, too. Churches of Christ should be able to sing this one easily.

When was this fine piece of hymnody written? 2019. All it takes is somebody in the denominational world who cares about the Bible and congregational singing, and they’ll hand us something we can use.

Indeed, this happens frequently. This year, I wrote a workbook called Singing with Understanding for a Bible class I taught. Each lesson of the workbook pitted an unfamiliar hymn I liked against an unfamiliar hymn I didn’t so that the class could analyze the qualities of good and bad hymns. For the sake of fairness, I segregated hymns by time period: old good against old bad, new good against new bad. Of the four categories, I had by far the easiest time filling out the “New Good” category because so many of the best worship songs being written now are unfamiliar to the church.

That’s a shame. Rather than allowing CCM icons and praise teams to drive the additions to our repertoire, we ought instead to be looking for songs that are written for and will benefit the congregation. If we seek, we will find, and our song worship will benefit immeasurably thereby.

Matthew Bassford

One of the many offices I held in various music teacher organizations was as Chairman for the State Level vocal competition.  I not only had to procure the judges, I had to brief them as well.  At one of those briefing events one year, one of the three judges, a gentleman in his forties, asked me if I would say something to the young ladies.  As the students came forward to hand their music to the judges, they often had to bend over to lay it on the table and show the judges which song they were singing and point out any changes they were making, like cutting a long intro in the accompaniment, or not taking a repeat for time's sake.  "These young ladies," he said, "seem to have no idea what happens when they bend over and I must constantly avert my eyes to keep from seeing down their necklines.  I know it must look like I am not listening to what they are telling me, and I don't want them to think that."  So yes, I did take the young ladies aside that day and speak to them, asking each to make sure she placed her hand on her neckline when she bent over.  A couple of them looked at me like I was crazy.  A few others simply forgot—I'll give them the benefit of the doubt since it was probably something they had never done before.
            That little experience made me realize that while we have done an admirable job of telling them that bikinis and miniskirts are not appropriate wear for a modest Christian, this latest generation seems to have had absolutely no instruction about basic things, things my generation grew up doing almost instinctively.  As a teen, I fell down the stairs at the church house one Sunday and despite a badly hurt ankle, the first thing I did was pull my skirt down!  A friend of mine, in the midst of a heart attack, played tug-o-war with an ER nurse over her blouse!  That's what I mean about being so well-taught about these things that we didn't even have to think about it, even in the midst of an emergency.
            Could I possibly make a few suggestions to the parents out there?  Here are some areas in which we need to give a little more instruction to our young (and possibly older) women.
            1.  Necklines—First let me just reiterate the lesson above.  Every time you lean over, you should put your hand on your neckline so it won't gape open.  In some cases, I have seen all the way to a young woman's belly button!  This usually happens with vee necks and scoop necks.  Unless your neckline is right at your throat, a turtleneck, mock turtle, or crew collar, hold it shut!
            Second, I am seeing more and more cleavage on Christian women, young, middle-aged, and older.  In the "olden days" as my boys liked to call my childhood, the only women brazen enough to show cleavage were street walkers and movie actresses.  Please, ladies, you can easily sew a small triangle of cloth or even fancy lace across your neckline and avoid this.
            2.  Hemlines—I had so hoped we were past this, but it's coming "up" again.  Any length of bare leg is arousing to a man.  Be careful what you are doing to your brethren.  When a man has to look at a sea of shapely young legs as he passes the Lord's Supper, someone is being horribly inconsiderate to her brethren.
            Second, girls have gotten so out of practice at wearing skirts and dresses that they have forgotten the number one basic rule—keep your knees together!  If you aren't careful, any time you move in your seat, especially turning sideways, you are likely to let them come apart.  No one needs to know the color of your underwear.
            And third, when you cross your legs, you will often get a fly-away hem on the outside of each thigh that leaves you exposed nearly to the hip, and crossing your legs makes the skirt ride up much higher than you realize.  Crossing your legs also tightens the skirt across your knees leaving a little peekaboo triangle.  Please learn to hang on to the hem as you cross your legs and tuck anything in that flips out.  And if it makes the skirt ride a foot above your knees, maybe that's a skirt you should either stop wearing or stop crossing your legs in.
            3.  Armholes—Some tank tops and sleeveless shirts have armholes so large they show half the side of your body.  In addition, they leave a tunnel that anyone can see the light at the end of, even if they try not to.  Make sure the armholes on your sleeveless attire is tight to your skin and relatively small.
            4.  Walking—No, I am not talking about that purposeful hip-sashaying walk we all know about.  I don't really think I need to say anything about that.  But here is another area where our propensity to wear pants most of the time has left young ladies not realizing the basics.  Wearing pants means you are no longer constricted by hemlines around the legs.  That means you take longer strides than the women of my day.  On the few times that you do wear a skirt, if it is constricting at all, like a straight skirt, that longer step you have become accustomed to will first, pull it tight against your body and show not only the form of your hips and bottom, but also every line of your underwear; and second, that skirt will ride up, just like it does when you sit down as you try to take that longer step.  All you need to do is shorten your stride and that usually takes care of that problem.
            And one more thing about walking:  In a time when women become angry at being objectified by men in the worst possible way, why are they wearing spike heels five or six inches high?  Do you not know what that does to your walk and to the looks of your legs and hips?  There is a reason shoe companies produce these things and men like them.  Be aware of what fashion designers are trying to do to you!
            5.  Tightness—I hate to even have to write this on a public blog post.  I have noticed pants, and especially shorts, so tight, that you can actually see the outline of the genitals.  Surely, the problem with that is obvious.
            I know a woman who will not buy an item of apparel until she has looked at it in a mirror from every possible angle, with every possible movement, or had a friend watch her as she goes through the list in her head.  She is obsessed, some of you might think, and I guess she is—obsessed with keeping the way she presents herself to the world from putting the lie to, as the religious world likes to call it, her witness.  She is also concerned with causing her brother, or any man, to sin.  That sounds like Christian love to me, not obsession.  If you are sitting there thinking, "I can do as I please and it's their problem not mine," then maybe you should consider whether you love souls as a follower of Christ ought to.  Just as her Master gave up all, a Christian woman must give up a few things if she wears His name.  If a few items of clothing is all you have to give up, count yourself blessed.
 
So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God...just as I try to please everyone in everything I do, not seeking my own advantage, but that of many, that they may be saved (1Cor 10:31-33).
 
Dene Ward

More than once I have been outside weeding and accidentally pulled up a fistful of thorns.  Usually it’s a blackberry vine, though stinging nettles are not far behind on the list.  Either one makes for pain and blood loss for at least a little while and I try hard to look a little closer before the next pull.
            Not too long ago I saw a picture of a plant called “Crown of Thorns.”  It’s an import to our country, a type of cactus, but one that is notoriously picky about its surroundings.  You can only grow it in Zone 10 or higher, but once you get it going, it’s nearly impossible to kill.  It is heat and drought tolerant.  Long after other houseplants would have died from neglect, it will even bloom.
            The photos I saw made me think of the crown of thorns we are familiar with as Christians, the one the soldiers wove and placed upon Jesus’ head.  I doubt it was the same plant, but it looked as I imagined that one would, a thick stem covered with long sharp spines.  I cannot even imagine trying to weave the thing without leaving yourself a bloody mess.
           
            We sing a song with these lyrics by William Featherston:

1. My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;
   For Thee all the follies of sin I resign;
   My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
2. I love Thee because Thou hast first loved me,
   And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree;
   I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
3. I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,
   And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;
   And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
4. In mansions of glory and endless delight,
   I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;
   I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow,
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

            I missed it all my life until Keith pointed out the thirds lines of verses 2 and 4.  “I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow,” and, “I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow.”  Jesus wore a crown of thorns so I could wear a crown of glory.  If it was anything like those plants I saw, it was a bigger sacrifice than one might ever have thought, but the symbolism is profound because everything he went through that horrible night was for me.  And you.  Even that prickly crown.
            Now, as his disciples, what sort of crown am I willing to wear for others?  Can I, as the Corinthians were chided to do, give up my liberties?  Can I concede a point even if I know I am right because in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter?  Can I stop an argument instead of continuing one?      Can I let someone else have the last word?
          Can I give up my time and convenience for the sake of someone who needs an encouraging word?  Can I skip a meal to visit the lonely?  Can I miss a ball game to hold a Bible study?
           Can I stay up a little later to pray a little longer?  Can I turn off the TV to spend some time in the Word?  Can I make teaching my children about God a priority instead of something we just try to fit in when we can?
            None of those things will cause the kind of bloodletting those thorns did, but if I cannot even do those paltry things, how can I even hope to wear that “glittering crown on my brow?”  If that makes me uncomfortable and ashamed, good.  That’s why we sing those songs.  They are to teach and admonish, not produce feel-good pep rallies.
         When I am weeding in the garden, I do my best to avoid the thorns.  Maybe in life, I should be out there looking for a few to wear.
 
And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head and arrayed him in a purple robe, John 19:2
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing, 2Tim 4:7-8.
 
Dene Ward

When I was a child, my piano teacher was a member of an organization, the benefits of which allowed her students to participate in several events, competitions, and joint recitals.  Fast forward twenty years and, as a piano and voice teacher myself, I rediscovered that organization and joined for the sake of my own students—and they ate it up.
            The stated purpose of the organization is “furthering music education and fostering a musical environment in our communities through the sponsorship of musical events and by providing performing opportunities for our talented and deserving young people.”  In other words, it is a service organization in the area of music.  It’s all about the cultural welfare of the community and the patronage of young artists.
            But as wonderful as that sounds, not every member “got it.”  As I became more and more involved at higher (district) and higher (state) levels, politics and self-aggrandizement reared their ugly heads.  Let me give you an example. 
            In their goal to spread music in the communities, local groups were encouraged to present programs open to the public in several areas:  opera, dance, American composers, women composers, and several others.  As motivation a plaque was awarded to the group who had done the best in each category based upon written reports sent to State Chairmen, complete with printed programs, photographs, and news items.
            One year I was one of those chairmen.  I received a dozen reports of outstanding programs all across the state in the opera category.  Truly every group deserved recognition for their efforts.  In fact, I could have easily made a case for the smallest group, and a rural one at that, because for their lack of resources both monetary and talent, their creativity in making opera palatable to a less cultured area of the state had been astounding.  But of course, it was not quite up to the big city group who had staged a full opera nor another urban organization who had managed to coax nationally acclaimed Met stars to appear.
            At the weekend of the awards I could not make the trip five hours south.  My husband had been shot in the line of duty and besides caring for him, I was also fending off the media and arranging appointments with doctors and lawyers and counselors.  So I sent my choice of winner and a letter of explanation for my absence.
            At nearly ten o’clock that evening I received a phone call from a member of one of the big city groups.  At first I thought, “How sweet.  Yes, it’s late, but she has just heard about our ordeal and is calling to check on us.”  But no, that was the last thing on her mind, if it was at all.  These were the first words out of her mouth:
            “I called to ask why we didn’t win the plaque this year.”
            Clearly this woman did not share the same goals as this organization.  To her it was about acclaim, about winning prizes, about being number one among her brothers and sisters.  And just as clearly, other people’s problems, no matter how dire, did not matter to her one bit.
            I hope that little story makes you shake your head in disgust, and after you have done that, ask yourself these questions:
            Why am I a Christian?
            Do I serve others?
            Do I do things for the church I assemble with, serving in whatever capacity is needed?
            And more to the point:
Have I ever been miffed because MY name wasn’t mentioned?
            Have I ever stopped speaking to someone who did not thank me as I thought I deserved?
            Have I ever stopped visiting or calling or helping someone who didn’t return the favor?
            Maybe we all need to remember the example the Lord set, not just that one night in the upper room washing even Judas’s feet, or even those hours on the cross, but every morning he opened his eyes on this earth among people who hated him, ridiculed him, assaulted him, tried to kill him, and eventually did.  And we need to remember why he did it.  It certainly wasn’t for a plaque!
            This organization he set up, the one he called “mine” (Matt 16:18) has a purpose that has nothing to do with my glory.  It is the greatest purpose of any group anywhere—the salvation of mankind, no matter what it takes from me in terms of service or sacrifice. 
            Yes, if we are faithful we will receive a prize.  But if the prize is the only reason we are doing it, then the prize is the very thing we will not receive.
 
So I endure all things for the sake of those chosen by God, that they too may obtain salvation in Christ Jesus and its eternal glory. 2Tim 2:10
 
Dene Ward

Many years ago we were wandering through a piano store looking for a light to go over the music stand on my own piano.  My parents had allowed me to take that one with me when I married, a Baldwin Acrosonic built in 1960 for which they paid $750.00, new.  As we meandered through the store waiting for a salesman to become free, I passed a mahogany studio grand and stopped in my tracks for a closer look.  It was a Knabe, the brand used by the Metropolitan Opera in those days, and the price tag said $5500.00.  No way, I thought.  This is a $20,000 instrument!  I sat down and ran through a Scarlatti sonata and the first movement of a Haydn.  The piano sounded and felt just fine.  What was going on?
            Finally the salesman made it over to us and showed us the piano lamp we had been looking at, but which had no price tag.  It clipped to the music stand so that the light was not on the back of the piano, but directly over the music, just like I wanted, and needed, for these eyes.  After a moment or two of research he came back with a price--$75.00!  As I said, this was many years ago and that represented nearly half of our weekly income.  I didn't even spend that much on groceries for a family of four back then.
            We were ready to walk out when Keith happened to ask about the grand and we got the whole story.  It had been willed to the University of Florida by an alumnus from Miami and it was a huge contrast to all the other brand spanking new pianos—it had a scratch here and there.  This one, we were told, came out at the turn of the 20th century because it had a chestnut core, and a blight hit the American chestnut first in 1904 and completely destroyed them within the next 40 years.  Yes, Knabes were great pianos and this one probably classified as an antique, but it just would not do on the stages of the University of Florida Music Department, which ultimately became a Steinway School of Music.  The university had traded it in on another new Steinway.  That accounted for the price.  For the average piano buyer, it was a steal, and it competed with the new ones on the floor.  The store owner simply wanted it sold as quickly as possible.
            Then Keith suddenly started dickering with the salesman about the piano.  I could not believe my ears.  We couldn't afford a $75.00 piano light, but he was talking about buying a $5500 piano?  I stood there in shock as he first got the salesman down to an even $5000, but that wasn't good enough for him—and it certainly wasn't good enough for our budget.  He mentioned our piano and asked about a trade-in. 
            Finally the salesman had to stop.  "I can't go any further," he said.  "You'll have to talk to the boss."
            And talk he did.  We left that place with a date for delivery, plus a $1000 trade-in (for one that had originally been $750!) off the new price of $4000, leaving $3000 for us to pay.  They threw the piano light in for nothing.  The next morning we would go to the bank for a loan, but on the way out of that store that afternoon, the news having reached him as he waited on another customer, the salesman called out, "Come back when you need another light!"
             So that's the story of how one of my dreams came true—a grand piano.  But the more important story is this:  Did you notice that the salesman was only authorized to do so much, and after that he had to go ask the boss?  In religion today, people scoff at authority.  Anyone who claims we need to have God's permission to do something is called a Pharisee, a legalist, or worse.  Yet every day we deal with the concept of authority and have no problem understanding it at all.  Who can sign your credit card?  Who can withdraw money from your bank account?  Yet people suddenly get up in arms when someone questions their right to change the worship God asked for, the method of salvation he demanded, or the life he requires us to lead.  If God does not have the authority to tell us how to do these things, then pray tell, who does?
            Most people think they do.  Perhaps you should consider that notion again if you find out someone has taken your credit card number and charged a few thousand dollars on it.  How can you complain when you don't think your Creator has the right to tell you how He wants to be worshipped, or what it would take to form a relationship with Him?  If that salesman had given us the deal the boss did, he would have probably been fired, and he knew it.  Why are we so smart everywhere except when dealing with the Almighty God?
 
And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of [by the authority of] the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him (Col 3:17).
For all the peoples walk each in the name of its god, but we will walk in the name of the LORD our God forever and ever (Mic 4:5).
 
Dene Ward

Alas! and did my Savior bleed
And did my Sov’reign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For such a worm* as I?

Was it for crimes that I had done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

Well might the sun in darkness hide
And shut his glories in,
When Christ, the mighty Maker died,
For man the creature’s sin.

Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt my eyes to tears.

But drops of grief can ne’er repay
The debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give myself away,
’Tis all that I can do.
           
            This post is not so much about what the song lyrics mean as it is about teaching us to pay attention to what we are singing.
            Read the lyrics above, if you have not already.  Some of them may be unfamiliar because they are routinely left out of hymnals.  Songs of Faith and Praise is particularly bad about choosing three verses whether their order makes sense or not.  Sometimes they will choose four, but why makes no more sense to me than just choosing three.  In the case of this song, it really fouls up the meaning of at least one verse.  Can you find it?
            Look at the fifth verse.  It begins with "But" which means that verse is reliant upon something that came before.  Yet the fourth verse is one that is routinely left out of many hymnals.  "But drops of grief" refers back to "melt my eyes to tears."  Each verse gradually leads you to the answer to the question in the first two lines of verse one, "Did my savior die for me?"  Then it speaks of the reactions that answer should provoke in us:  mortification, gratitude, grief, and, finally, total surrender.  Now the song makes sense.
            But then I hope you have also noticed the complete disparity between the music of the verses and the music of the chorus.  Isaac Watts wrote the lyrics in 1701, using the Scottish tune "Martyrdom."  The above lyrics were the entire song.  In 1885 Ralph Hudson added the words and tune of what is considered the chorus or refrain:  "At the Cross."  It was written in a "campmeeting style" which some people believe means it was added to more than one tune.  It is indeed a completely different style than the verse melody, a bit more raucous and knee-slapping, and it completely interrupts the flow of the verse lyrics, which may well account for few people noticing the problem with the verse 5 "but" having no antecedent that makes sense.
            As a musician and writer, I would like to suggest that all five verses be sung, with the refrain sung at the end, if at all.  It would make more sense both lyrically and musically.  And, as mentioned earlier, this sort of thing is a good test of how much attention we pay to what we sing.  The answer to the title question, in this case at least, "Do You Know What You Are Singing?" might well be, "No, we don't."
 
For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die— but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life (Rom 5:6-10).

*Yes, "worm" is the correct word.  Some hymnals have pandered to modern desire for self-esteem and changed it to "one."  We need to realize just exactly how low and utterly irredeemable we were, and the unthinkable sacrifice of a God becoming like us and living and dying like we do, though he never deserved it.
 
Dene Ward

How do you explain
How do you describe
A love that goes from East to West
And runs as deep as it is wide?
You know all our hopes
Lord, You know all our fears
And words cannot express the love we feel
But we long for You to hear.

Chorus:
So listen to our hearts
Hear our spirits sing
A song of praise that flows
For those You have redeemed
And we use the words we know
To tell you what an awesome God You are
But when words are not enough
To tell You of our love
Just listen to our hearts.

If words could fall like rain
From these lips of mine
And if I had a thousand years
I would still run out of time.
So if You listen to my heart
Every beat will say
Thank you for the Life
Thank you for the Truth
Thank you for the Way.

(Chorus)
           
            It's a relatively new hymn, as you can tell by all the syncopation, which no ordinary church member sings correctly, and by a three note repetitive "melody" in the verse section, supplemented only by a low sol as an occasional trampoline.  (Can't anyone write an actual melody anymore?)  Still, especially with the added chorus, it's catchy and you find yourself humming it later in the week.  But these are not my main issues with the song.
            "Listen to Our Hearts," the lyrics ask of God, and my mind immediately goes to Romans 8 where we are promised that even when we don't know what to pray for, we have an advocate and intermediary who will take the thoughts behind our meager words and deliver them to the Father.  But wait!  That is not what this song is about.  Look at the chorus again.
            "When words are not enough/ to tell you of our love/ listen to our hearts."  If it means anything, it means that the best way we can express our love to God is to have a good heart.  Really?
            John tells us in his first epistle, Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth (1John 3:18); and For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome (1John 5:3).  He adds in his second epistle, And this is love, that we walk according to his commandments; this is the commandment, just as you have heard from the beginning, so that you should walk in it (2John 1:6).  And where did John ever get such a notion?  ​Whoever has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him (John 14:21).
            I imagine that most of the people reading this will instantly say, "Well, of course."  But there are quite a few out there for whom this is a revelation.  In the so-called Christian world, a good heart is supposed to be the cure for everything, including outright sin.  When we sing this song in our services and some of those people are sitting there next to you, perhaps friends and neighbors you invited, you just might be encouraging them in this false doctrine.  I suppose that if they are people you personally have brought to services you could take them aside afterward and say, "About that song…" and tell them you didn't really mean it that way.  But their first question might be embarrassing.  "You mean you sing things you don't mean?"
            I doubt that anything I say here will change the popularity of this song.  In fact, if we changed the words to something more scriptural, like, "When words are not enough/ to tell you of our love/ watch how we obey," or "Wa-atch how we walk," that would be its death knell.  Who would want to sing something so emotionally unsatisfying?  But maybe the next time it is led in your group you will remember that Jesus told us exactly how to show our love for both him and the Father:  Walk like he walked.  Of course we should obey from the heart, as Paul says in Rom 6:17, and our life of obedience should be sincere, but that is a far cry from pandering to modern emotionalism. 
 
If you love me, you will keep my commandments  (John 14:15).
 
Dene Ward

“A wall of fire about me, I’ve nothing now to fear.”
 
            If I were surrounded by fire, I would probably be scared to death.  Obviously this figure is meant in an entirely different way.
            And I will be to her a wall of fire all around, declares the LORD, and I will be the glory in her midst, Zech 2:5.
            Zechariah was a minor prophet who prophesied shortly after Haggai.  In fact, you can think of him as writing the sequel to that prophet’s book, Homer Hailey once said.  The Jews have returned from Babylon and are in the midst of rebuilding the Temple.  Zechariah’s job was not only to encourage them to finish the task, but to look ahead to the glorious coming of the promised kingdom.  But here they were, a small remnant (42,360, Neh 7:66, out of an estimated million in Babylon), with no armies, no weapons, and not even a wall around their old city. 
            In the vision Zechariah sees a young man trying to measure the city, as if it were a finite place.  In verse 4 God says Run, say to that young man, ‘Jerusalem shall be inhabited as villages without walls, because of the multitude of people and livestock in it.
            “My kingdom is not of this world,” Jesus told Pilate.  It would not be a physical, measurable location at all.  The Jerusalem God had in mind was one too big for walls.  It is open to multitudes of peoples.  And the only wall it needs is the protection of God Himself.
            The Hebrew writer calls the church “the heavenly Jerusalem.”  We are in that city and we do not need stone walls or mighty weapons of war.  We have “a wall of fire about” us in the person of the Almighty God.  That fire represents not just the protection, but also the glory of our Savior.  Even as we approach what could be a new era of persecution in our country, if we have faith in those promises, what have we to fear?
            Of all the old hymns we sing, I can’t think of another with as many scriptural references as The Lily of the Valley, over forty if you count them all.  Wouldn’t it be a shame to assign this one to the trash pile just because it doesn’t have modern rhythms or harmonies?  And isn’t it shameful to us if we can’t understand what these lyrics mean?  Jesus should be to us and to our descendants in ages to come “the fairest of ten thousand” to our souls, and God “a wall of fire about” us.
 
What is it then? I will pray with the spirit, and I will pray with the understanding also: I will sing with the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding also, 1 Cor 14:15.
 
Dene Ward

He’s the Lily of the Valley, the Bright and Morningstar,
He’s the fairest of ten thousand to my soul.
 
            Three phrases, three passages, two in the same book.  This will take some explanation.
            The old view says that the Song of Solomon was an allegory of Christ and the church.  Fewer people accept that any longer, and though it may have sparked the original lyrics, I am not certain they were meant in precisely that way.  For one thing, the analogy doesn’t hold up.
            I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys, Song of Solomon 2:1.
            My beloved is white and ruddy, The chiefest among ten thousand, Song of Solomon 5:10.
            In the first passage, the shepherdess is talking about herself.  In the second, the shepherdess is speaking about her beloved, the shepherd (or Solomon if you prefer that interpretation of the book).  Those passages are about two different people in the narrative, so how could the poet be following the old interpretation of Christ and the church in the hymn if the analogy does not hold up? 
            Here is the point we are so bad about seeing sometimes:  they are figures of speech.  The lyricist has borrowed various phrases out of the Bible to depict how wonderful Christ is to the believer.  Did you catch the Rose of Sharon reference too?  These are poetic metaphors.  Making literal arguments from figures of speech is something we ridicule our religious neighbors for doing.  Why do we?  Jesus is like a beautiful flower.  He is so fair (as in “Fairest Lord Jesus” too, by the way) we could say he is the fairest among ten thousand. 
            Does that mean number 10,001 is fairer than he is?  Of course not, not any more than the other phrase means he has a stem and petals.  None of these is meant to be taken literally whether you believe in the allegorical version of the Song of Solomon or not.  As it happens, I don’t.  I believe it is in there to show us how to order our romantic marital love.  If that isn’t what it’s about, then God left something awfully important out of the Bible and I don’t believe that for a minute.  He tells us too many times that it contains everything we could possibly need in any circumstance.  And if Paul can talk about the church being the “bride of Christ” why can’t I use these terms for my spiritual “husband?”
            Then we have the “Bright and Morningstar.”  What is that all about?  Balaam prophesied, “There shall come forth a star out of Jacob,” Num 24:17.  Peter tells us, “And we have the prophetic word more fully confirmed, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts,” 2 Pet 1:19.  The Morningstar, or daystar, was a bright star that appeared just before dawn at certain times of the year, Venus I read in one place, which at other times of the year is the Evening Star.  Jesus is our Morningstar. He appeared before the coming of his kingdom, the “day” Joel speaks of in Joel 2.  He will appear again on the “day” he takes us to our promised rest.  When we accept him in our hearts, he “appears” to us individually (and figuratively) on that “day” as we enter his spiritual body.  Take your pick of interpretations and “days.”  Any of them satisfy the metaphor.
            That leaves us with just one more wonderful phrase to cover next time, a promise that should encourage us all.  But for now, dwell on these a little while.  Is Christ that important to you?  Is he that beautiful to you?  Would these figures of speech rise from your lips?  Or are we a little too ignorant of the Word and a lot too embarrassed to say such syrupy words about a Savior who gave up everything for us?
 
Dene Ward