It Is Well With My Soul

Within this journey I have, so far, been on in my hymn research quest there have been a handful of “my favorites”. Of course, almost any epic story of loss, and tragedy I will probably somehow label “my favorite”. This time it’s a little different though, it’s hard to describe in a short paragraph how much meaning this story holds to my soul... shall I say “It is well” with my soul? For some reason I feel there’s so much more depth than that, but I will let Horatio Spafford’s story speak for itself....

In Eighteen Seventy One the great Chicago fire consumed much of the Windy City, leaving Horatio Spafford at a great financial deficit as he was heavily invested in much of the real estate. Had Horatio only known the storms to come, this minor tragedy would hardly even seem worth noting in his life...It was within that same time that he lost his four-year-old son to scarlet fever, and because of that had drowned himself in the cause of rebuilding Chicago, helping the nearly one hundred thousand who had been left homeless.

After a long, and rough journey Horatio decided to take his wife, and four daughters on a vacation to Europe. When urgent work matters kept him detained in New York he went ahead, and sent his wife and daughters on to Europe without him. He settled them into a cabin aboard the VILLE DU HAVRE - with an unsettled feeling that he ignored.

Upon that trip his unsettled feelings confirmed themselves; the VILLE DU HAVRE collided with an iron sailing vessel, which sent it plummeting to the ocean floor. Two hundred and twenty six lives were lost that night, and among them were all four of Horatio’s daughters; Bessie, Maggie, Tanetta, and Annie Spafford.

Horatio’s wife Anna was found barely alive, afloat upon a piece of wreckage. She was rescued, and brought to Wales where she cabled her husband two words; “Saved Alone”.

It was said that when Anna Spafford was pulled from the wreckage the first words from her lips were “I lost all of my children, and someday the Lord will help me understand why.” Horatio left immediately to receive his wife, and while sailing over the very place his daughters had drowned he curled up in his cabin, and whispered to himself “It is well: The Lord’s will has been done”. How beautifully close does that sound to the words Jesus said himself on the cross? Just a side note in my head...

Never the less, these famous words, as we all know, were later penned into the famous hymn we know today.

How does one attain such a faith that gives the strength to trust in the will of Christ when all five of your children have been taken from you? I pray that myself, nor anyone I know has to find that out. I believe Horatio set a standard in faith for many of us though. How often do we find the strength to say to ourselves “It is well with my soul” when we suffer loss? When we can’t pay the bills? When we lose our self respect? We will even curse the air we breathe after stubbing our toe, or burning dinner. Perhaps this week I will focus more on what it would mean to let “it” be well with my soul. Whatever the “it” is that comes up this week. We all have an “it”. I would encourage you to do the same. Whatever your lot, He has taught us to say.... Well, you know the rest.

When “It is well with my soul” was written it was Phillip Paul Bliss, close friend of Horatio’s, and author of “I will sing of my redeemer”, that wrote the music to it which he entitled “VILLE DU HAVRE.” As you may recall, Phillip died shortly after writing “I will sing...” trying to save his wife from a horrible train wreck... Funny how all of our stories seem to intertwine... coincidence? Probably not.

What A Friend We Have In Jesus

It was a poem to begin with. A poem in which Joseph Scriven, a blue eyed, eccentric irishman, intended for his mother as a bit of comfort in times of crisis. A poem that once landing in the right hands... became one of the most well known hymns we hear today.

Joseph sent words of comfort to his mother... “What needless pain we bear all because we do not carry everything to God in Prayer...”

Powerful words considering the life Joseph had run away from in Dublin Ireland. At the time Joseph wrote his poem to his mother he was living in Canada, which is where he sailed to after his bride-to-be had drowned the day before their wedding when Joseph was twenty-five years old.

It wasn’t until nearly ten years later in Canada that Joseph fell in love again with a woman named Eliza Catherine Roche. Until... once again tragedy struck, and he lost his fiance to illness.

I don’t know much about losing a loved one, especially one I intended to marry...twice...but, what I can only try to imagine is enough to get slightly choked up while spending time contemplating this story. It is enough to validly assume that after so much trauma Joseph would be furious at God, and turn away from his faith. But, if anything stands out while researching the life of Joseph Scriven, it is that he was spoken of as a man who would give the shirt off his back to those in need. That his time was mainly spent lending a hand to the poor, and giving freely of what money he had.

In fact, many didn’t even know of his poetic talents until closer to the end of his life. “What a Friend We Have In Jesus” was published anonymously in Eighteen Fifty Five, and Joseph did not receive credit for it until the Nineteen Eighties. I have a feeling Joseph preferred it this way... In fact, when Joseph was asked about the hymn, and whether or not he’d written it his response was “The Lord and I did it between us”.

In Eighteen Ninety Six Joseph became ill to the point of delirium that caused him to run into a creek... where he drowned himself.

When Joseph was buried it was arranged so that his feet would be placed opposite Eliza’s. So that when he was resurrected he, and Eliza would be sure to arise facing each other.

Upon Joseph’s grave was built an obelisk in honor of him by those who loved his hymn. Among the engraving it is written “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God”.

Maybe it is just the celtic music I have playing on my computer as I write this story that stirs up the emotions, or maybe it is just that beautiful... But, I don’t think there could have been a better phrase to place in honor of a man so humble as Joseph Scriven.

There Is A Fountain Filled With Blood

William Cowper, born into the home of an English clergy man, educated in private schools and earning a degree in law would come across as a very strong willed, and determined young man. Isn’t that how the story always begins?

There is so much story to the life of William Cowper. To put it all into one small article would not do this man justice, but, I’ll give you my best shot.

Despite the fact that William was very intelligent, and very driven, it was the death of his mother when he was six years old that made him an emotionally fragile, and unstable man beneath the surface of all of his success. It was just before William went to take his final bar examination that his hidden anxieties began to surface. Added to his fear of his bar exam he suffered a failed love affair, and as a result of both; had a mental break down from which he never recovered. This led to an unsuccessful suicide attempt, which then led to the next eighteen months he spent in an insane asylum.

First, I would like to briefly paint a picture on what an insane asylum looked like in the 18th century. It was not a place filled with gentle, loving nurses like Whoopie Goldberg from Girl, Interrupted, nor an exciting mystery such as our most recent box office success: Shutter Island.

These were actually places where it was believed that they were locking away the “animals” of society. Asylums were dark, and dirty dungeons where torture treatments were used such as branding their skulls to “bring them to their senses”, or swinging them around by a harness to “calm their nerves”. William, to my understanding, wasn’t exactly getting the type of treatment he needed at the time.

Despite his depression William found a way to treat himself. It was during this time that he began to bury himself in scripture. Though, as a child he had a spiritual upbringing, it wasn’t until this point that William truly began to wrestle with what it meant to have a true relationship with Christ and with his eternal salvation. He was thirty three when he accepted Christ as his savior.

Though William never practiced law again he did find a love for writing and literature.... you see where I’m going with this....

Through a long and beautiful story made short, William ended up receiving the spiritual nourishment he needed from a Reverend Unwin and his wife Mary. It was through this couple that William met....are you ready for this one? .....John Newton.... author of “Amazing Grace!” The two great minds produced together the “Olney hymns”, a book of over three hundred hymns. Among Cowper’s written work, with the spiritual inspiration of Newton, is the hymn that, to him, testified his final peace with his savior. “There Is a Fountain Filled With Blood”.

And it wasn’t long after he wrote this hymn that William died on April 25 1800. He left this world having lived a full, and glorifying life liberated from so much pain, and sorrow.

“Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die”

Come Thou Fount

In 1758 the New Jersey legislature formed its first Indian reservation, George

Washington was admitted to the Virginia house of Burgess, and Haley’s comet

was first sighted by Johann Georg Palitzsh.

That’s all good and well, but now let’s talk about something else.

Also in 1758 a man named Robert Robinson wrote a hymn called “Come

Thou Fount”. A hymn we are all familiar with, and sing regularly in church. But

does one ever wonder what are behind the lyrics of this hymn? “Prone to

wonder, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.” These lyrics strike me every

time I hear it, because it is the life and story behind the hymn that now “tune my

heart to sing His praise” whenever I hear it.

It was actually a while before 1758 that the story of this hymn began, when Robert was a young lad in London.

Robert was actually a rebellious, young teenager, his father had passed when Robert was young, and without

knowing how else to control him his mother sent him off to London to learn the skill of barbering.

Robert did not want to learn Barbering.

Instead, Robert learned the skills of excessive drinking, gambling, gang life, and soon found himself wandering

into a fortune tellers lair with a group of his buddies - all in a drunken stupor. It was that night in the fortune tellers

grasp that Robert began to sense a greater force in the world.

Spiritually shaken and disturbed, Robert then suggested their next visit be to a church. It just so happened that

same night one of the most famous religious figures of that time, George Whitefield, was preaching at a nearby

evangelistic event. It also just so happened Robert Robinson was in the same area. Whitefield’s message that night

was on Mathew 3:7, Jesus’ words to the Pharisees on “the wrath to come” left Robert, again, stirred and with a sense

that Whitefield was preaching directly to him that night.

Robert sobered up, was haunted by Whitefield’s words, left with his buddies...and three years passed.

Those years later Robert finally gave his life to Christ and began serving as a

pastor at the Calvinist Methodist Chapel in Norfolk England.

As much as it sounds like a happy ending for Robert, his story, like most of ours,

did not end there. Robert continually struggled on and off with his alcoholic tendencies,

and addictions to gambling. It was within those battles, in the year of 1758 that Robert

sat down to write a hymn for a sermon on Pentecost Sunday.

“Oh to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be,

let thy grace, Lord, like a fetter bind my wandering heart to thee”

The hymn was beloved by his community, and went on to become a favorite among the townsfolk.

Robert was still left struggling, and in a time he’d fallen away, and was on the road traveling by coach a woman

sitting near him in his coach began, ironically, preaching to him. I picture Robert now with a bored, possibly irritated,

yet slightly amused, look on his face as this complete stranger sat by him witnessing her heart out with little

knowledge that this man was a preacher himself. After a while of getting no where with Robert she pulled out a book,

“I want to read you something, and I’d like you to tell me your thoughts” the woman said flipping through her book.

She read him his own hymn...“Madam’” Robert began, “I am the poor fool who wrote that hymn, and I would

give anything to again be as happy as I was then.”

Robert returned to preaching, and was soon invited to preach in Birmingham,England for noted Unitarian Dr. Joseph

Priestly until 1790. He was fifty-four years old when he passed away quietly one night in his sleep.