Bowling Green Covenant Church

Although not fully consistent in the practice I am often found reading a book. It is equally the case that when reading a book I am usually equipped with a yellow highlighter, a red pencil and a mechanical pencil. Such equipment should clue you into the fact that the books I read are neither novels nor are they to be found on the bestseller lists of most major newspapers. One such book that is in the early stages of being highlighted, marked and underlined is Above All Earthly Powers by David F. Wells. Having read his previous works on a similar theme (No Place for the Truth, God in the Wasteland, and Losing Our Virtue) I was prepared to be challenged. I was not disappointed.

Those of us in pastoral ministry who are serious about piercing this present post-modern darkness would do well to mind Dr. Wells’ trenchant observations regarding on the state of the evangelical church in America. One observation in particular which I have underlined, and has found its way into more than one sermon, is the following: “It is very easy to build churches in which seekers congregate; it is very hard to build churches in which biblical faith is maturing into genuine discipleship,” (Above All Earthly Powers, page 119, italics mine).

One way in which biblical faith can mature into genuine discipleship is through worship. Seekers tend to congregate in churches where contemporary worship is the rule. More often than not this format employs a musical style in which just about any instrument is permissible except an organ. And just as typically the songs which are sung tend to be theologically shallow, embarrassingly self-centered and borderline Gnostic. Now, before you do think this is turning into a Reformed rant, I am the pastor of a church in which contemporary worship is the predominant style. Therefore this is a subject about which I am both acutely familiar as well as particularly sensitive. No pastor, including me—especially me—wants to preside over a congregation in which biblical faith fails to mature into genuine discipleship. No pastor wants to preside over a congregation with a faith that is “a mile wide and an inch deep.”

Good worship needs to be supported by good preaching. For now I will leave the discussion about good preaching for another post. For this post I want to exhort us to consider the importance of worship as it pertains to biblical faith maturing into genuine discipleship. Covenant is not a church in which seekers congregate. While we are a friendly bunch and welcome seekers, we do not tailor our services to seekers. Yet we are growing. I attribute our growth to the fact that as serious students of the Word every member is seeking to walk by the Spirit so as to be led by the Spirit in the fervent hope that our biblical faith will mature into genuine discipleship. We are also a worshiping church. While we do not have an organ, we are blessed to have a growing guild of talented musicians, songwriters, singers and worship leaders. More importantly they are worshipers. They lead us in singing old hymns—some updated, some as originally written. They lead us in singing contemporary songs but ones with lyrics like liquid bread. They inspire me to listen actively to worship music, to read lyrics and highlight artists with the same tenacity with which I highlight and underline the books I read.

There is a guild of Christian artists which has developed a style of worship that builds biblical faith so that it can mature into genuine discipleship. They are called Indelible Grace Music and they first came to my attention as “bumper” music which I heard coming out of commercial break while listening to Dr. Michael Horton’s program The White Horse Inn (www.whitehorseinn.org). Indelible Grace Music has a website, www.igracemusic.com which is worth visiting and when you do be sure to click on the “Listen to the Sound Clips” link. I further recommend you listen to Indelible Grace V, Wake Thy Slumbering Children, but all five CDs are worth your attention. The song that compelled me to go to their website is Hear Our Prayer (track 8 on IG V). You have to listen to it.

Imagine my delight, therefore, when I discovered that the lyrics to Hear Our Prayer are adapted from an old hymn written by Robert Grant, circa 1815. The lyrics of the hymn are below. They are updated, as is the music in the recording by Indelible Grace, but the power is there just the same.

Savior, When in Dust to Thee
by Robert Grant

Savior, when in dust to Thee
Low we bow the adoring knee,
When, repentant, to the skies
Scarce we lift our weeping eyes,
O by all the pains and woes
Suffered once for man below,
Bending from Thy throne on high,
Hear our solemn litany.

By Thy helpless infant years,
By Thy life of want and tears,
By Thy days of sore distress
In the savage wilderness,
By the dread mysterious hour
Of the insulting tempter’s power,
Turn, O turn a favoring eye,
Hear our solemn litany.

By the sacred griefs that wept
O’er the grave where Lazarus slept,
By the boding tears that flowed
Over Salem’s loved abode,
By the anguished sigh that told
Treachery lurked within Thy fold,
From Thy seat above the sky,
Hear our solemn litany.

By Thine hour of dire despair,
By Thine agony of prayer,
By the cross, the nail, the thorn,
Piercing spear, and torturing scorn,
By the gloom that veiled the skies
O’er the dreadful sacrifice,
Listen to our humble cry,
Hear our solemn litany.

By Thy deep expiring groan,
By the sad sepulchral stone,
By the vault whose dark abode
Held in vain the rising God,
O from earth to heaven restored,
Mighty, re-ascended Lord,
Listen, listen to the cry
Of our solemn litany.

O God of my Exodus,

Great was the joy of Israel’s sons,
when Egypt died upon the shore,
Far greater the joy when the Redeemer’s foe
lay crushed in the dust.

Jesus strides forth as the victor,
conqueror of death, hell,
and all opposing might;
He bursts the bands of death,
tramples the powers of darkness down,
and lives forever.

He, my gracious surety,
apprehended for payment of my debt,
comes forth from the prison house of the grave free,
and triumphant over sin, Satan,
and death.

Show me herein
the proof that His vicarious offering is accepted,
that the claims of justice are satisfied,
that the devil’s scepter is shivered,
that his wrongful throne is leveled.

Give me the assurance that
in Christ I died,
in Him I rose,
in His life I live,
in His victory I triumph,
in His ascension I shall be glorified.

Adorable Redeemer,
Thou who wast lifted up upon a cross
art ascended to highest heaven.
Thou, who as Man of sorrows
wast crowned with thorns,
art now as Lord of life wreathed with glory.

Once,
no shame more deep than Thine,
no agony more bitter,
no death more cruel.

Now,
no exaltation more high,
no life more glorious,
no advocate more effective.

Thou art in the triumph car
leading captive Thine enemies behind Thee.

What more could be done than Thou hast done!

Thy death is my life,
Thy resurrection my peace,
Thy ascension my hope,
Thy prayers my comfort.

–from The Valley of Vision

Heavenly Father,

Thou hast led me singing to the cross
where I fling down all my burdens and see them vanish,
where my mountains of guilt are leveled to a plain,
where my sins disappear, though they are the greatest that exist,
and are more in number than the grains of fine sand;

For there is power in the blood of Calvary
to destroy sins more than can be counted
even by one from the choir of heaven.
Thou hast given me a hillside spring
that washes clear and white,
and I go as a sinner to its waters,
bathing without hindrance in its crystal streams.

At the cross there is free forgiveness
for poor and meek ones,
and ample blessings that last forever;
The blood of the Lamb is like a great river of infinite grace
with never any diminishing of its fullness
as thirsty ones without number drink of it.

O lord, for ever will Thy free forgiveness live
that was gained on the mount of blood;
In the midst of a world of pain
it is a subject for praise in every place,
a song on earth, an anthem in heaven,
its love and virtue knowing no end.

I have a longing for the world above
where multitudes sing the great song,
for my soul was never created to love the dust of earth.

Though here my spiritual state is frail and poor,
I shall go on singing Calvary’s anthem.

May I always know
that a clean heart full of goodness is more beautiful than the lily,
that only a clean heart can sing by night and by day,
that such a heart is mine when I abide at Calvary.

–from The Valley of Vision

God of all Good,

I bless Thee for the means of grace;
teach me to see in them Thy loving purposes
and the joy and strength of my soul.
Thou has t prepared for me a feast;
and though I am unworthy to sit down as guest,
I wholly rest on the merits of Jesus,
and hide myself beneath His righteousness;
When I hear His tender invitation
and see His wondrous grace,
I cannot hesitate,
but must come to Thee in love.

By Thy Spirit enliven my faith rightly to discern
and spiritually to apprehend the Savior.
While I gaze upon the emblems of my Savior’s death,
may I ponder why He died, and hear Him say,
‘I gave My life to purchase yours,
presented Myself an offering to expiate your sin,
shed My blood to blot out your guilt,
opened my side to make you clean,
endured your curses to set you free,
bore your condemnation to satisfy divine justice.’

O may I rightly grasp
the breadth and length of this design,
draw near, obey , extend the hand,
take the bread, receive the cup, eat and drink,
testify before all men that I do for myself,
gladly, in faith, reverence and love, receive my Lord,
to be my life, strength, nourishment, joy, delight.

In the supper I remember His eternal love,
boundless grace, infinite compassion, agony cross, redemption,
and receive assurance of pardon, adoption, life, glory.

As the outward elements nourish my body,
so may Thy indwelling Spirit invigorate my soul,
until that day when I hunger and thirst no more,
and sit with Jesus at His heavenly feast.

–from The Valley of Vision

Incomprehensible, Great and Glorious God,

I adore Thee and abase myself.
I approach Thee mindful that I am less than nothing,
a creature worse than nothing.

My thoughts are not screened from Thy gaze.
My secret sins blaze in the light of Thy countenance.
Enable me
to remember that blood which cleanseth all sin,
to believe in that grace which subdues all iniquities,
to resign myself to that agency which can deliver me
from the bondage of corruption
into the glorious liberty of the sons of God.

Thou hast begun a good work in me and canst alone continue and complete it.

Give me an increasing conviction of my tendency to err,
and of my exposure to sin.

Help me to feel more of the purifying,
softening influence of religion,
its compassion, love, pity, courtesy,
and employ me as Thy instrument in blessing others.

Give me to distinguish
between the mere form of godliness and its power,
between life and a name to live, between guile and truth,
between hypocrisy and a religion that will bear Thy eye.

If I am not right,
set me right,
keep me right;

And may I at least come to Thy house in peace.

To those who know me well, it should come as no surprise that when it comes to singing the only key I know is the one I use to start my car. This dearth of singing ability was, until my recent service as pastor of Bowling Green Covenant Church, a significant liability since I was responsible for choosing the hymns to be sung each Sunday during worship.

Armed with only a limited knowledge of familiar hymns with familiar tunes my only other means of choosing hymns was to read the lyrics. Hymns with lyrics like liquid bread immediately attracted my attention. The problem with this method of hymn selection soon became painfully obvious as more often than not the tune of the hymn did not always match the grandeur of the lyrics.

Hymns I thought would sound triumphant and majestic had tunes ponderous and dirge-like.

Hymns I thought would be contemplative and meditative, had tunes so jolly and sugary-sweet I found it difficult to keep from chuckling as I tried to sing it.

Eventually, I humbled myself and sought the counsel of the more musically inclined talents of my wife and daughter, but until then most Sundays were an adventure in hymnody which, I believe, remains unrivaled in the history of the church in America—or close to it.

Today I serve a church where a talented team of creative, skilled, and dedicated musicians choose our worship songs. I give them the Scripture text I will be preaching on and they select songs appropriate to the text. Still, old habits die hard and I still like hymns with lyrics like liquid bread. So for this week’s post I have selected a hymn with lyrics that are as challenging to read as they are sobering to the soul. I do not know the tune. However, that may be irrelevant in view of the stoutness of the lyrics.

The hymn is “Adore and Tremble, for Our God is a Consuming Fire,” written by Isaac Watts. Watts (1674-1748) was a prolific writer of hymns such as “Come, We That Love the Lord,” “O God, Our Help in Ages Past,” and “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross,” to name just three.

Arguably, any hymn that begins with the words, “Adore and tremble, for our God is a consuming fire,” is quickly revealed as a seeker-unfriendly hymn. Nor is such a hymn likely to be found in our modern hymnals. Pity. The scene painted by Watts’ lyrics is that of the ordered chaos of God’s vengeance—His divine justice poured out in consummate and perfecting judgment. Here there is no image of Jesus calling to us softy and tenderly. Here we see the Jesus of Revelation 19—the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Here also, we see the power of grace on behalf of those who worship Jesus who is called Faithful and True. Here we see the promise of future grace extended to those who take refuge in Him for where grace abounds refuge is found. The hymn exhorts the faithful to worship God with holy fear and Spirit-inspired hope. He will not always suffer His foes to succeed. I am reminded of Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 4, that for as long as we live in the body “we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted but not forsaken; struck down but not destroyed, always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies,” (2 Corinthians 4.8-10).

Further into the New Testament, the writer of Hebrews expresses our hope this way, “Therefore let us be grateful for we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire,” (Hebrews 12.28-29).

In describing God’s triumph over His foes using multicolored imagery Watts’ point is not that we should delight in the defeat of our enemies as much as to rejoice, finally, in the triumph of God’s holiness over all that is evil. The vengeance of God is the vindication of His glory, His honor, and His holiness. We rejoice because, at last, the whole world sees God as we, the faithful, have only beheld Him by faith—as the King of kings and the Lord of lords, “the King of ages, immortal, invisible, the only God,” to whom is due honor and glory forever and ever, (1 Timothy 1.17).

So the hymn rightly exhorts us to adore and tremble for our God is a consuming fire! I leave Watts to occupy the stage.

Adore and tremble, for our God
Is a consuming fire!
His jealous eyes His wrath inflame,
And raise His vengeance higher.

Almighty vengeance, how it burns!
How bright His fury glows!
Vast magazines of plagues and storms
Lie treasured for his foes.

Those heaps of wrath, by slow degrees,
Are forced into a flame;
But kindled, oh! how fierce they blaze!
And rend all nature’s frame.

At His approach the mountains flee,
And seek a watery grave:
The frighted sea makes haste away,
And shrinks up every wave.

Through the wide air the mighty rocks
Are swift as hailstones hurled;
Who dares engage His fiery rage
That shakes the solid world?

Yet, mighty God, Thy sovereign grace
Sits regent on the throne;
The refuge of Thy chosen race
When wrath comes rushing down.

Thy hand shall on rebellious kings
A fiery tempest pour,
While we beneath Thy sheltering wings
Thy just revenge adore.

Our only response can be simply this, “Our Lord, come!”

O DIVINE LAWGIVER,

I take shame to myself for open violations to thy law, for
my secret faults,
my omissions of duty,
my unprofitable attendance upon means of grace,
my carnality in worshiping thee,
and all the sins of my holy things.

My iniquities are increased over my head:
My trespasses are known in the heavens,
and there Christ is gone also,
my Advocate with the Father,
my propitiation for sins,
and I hear his word of peace.

At present it is a day of small things with me,
I have light enough to see my darkness,
sensibility enough to feel the hardness of my heart,
spirituality enough to mourn my want of a heavenly mind;
but I might have had more,
I ought to have more,
I have never been straitened in thee,
thou hast always placed before me an infinite fullness,
and I have not taken it.

I confess and bewail my deficiencies and backsliding:
I mourn my numberless failures,
my incorrigibility under rebukes,
my want of profiting under ordinances of mercy,
my neglect of opportunities for usefulness.

It is not with me as in months past;
O recall me to thyself, and enable me to feel my first love.

May my improvements correspond with my privileges.

May my will accept the decisions of my judgment,
my choice be that which conscience approves,
and may I never condemn myself in the things I allow!

SOVEREIGN LORD,

When clouds of darkness, atheism, and unbelief come to me,
I see thy purpose of love in withdrawing the Spirit
that I might prize Him more,
in chastening me for my confidence in past successes,
that my wound of secret godlessness might be cured.

Help me to humble myself before Thee
by seeing the vanity of honor
as a conceit of men’s minds,
as standing between me and Thee;
by seeing that Thy will must alone be done,
as much in denying
as in giving spiritual enjoyments;
by seeing that my heart is nothing but evil,
mind, mouth, life void of Thee;
by seeing that sin and Satan are allowed power in me
that I might know my sin,
be humbled, and gain strength thereby;
by seeing that unbelief shuts Thee from me,
so that I sense not Thy majesty, power, mercy, or love.

Then possess me, for Thou only art good and worthy.

Thou dost not play in convincing me of sin,
Satan did not play in tempting me to it,
I do not play when I sink in deep mire,
for sin is no game, no toy, no bauble;
Let me never forget that the heinousness of sin
lies not so much in the nature of the sin committed,
as in the greatness of the Person sinned against.

When I am afraid of evils to come, comfort me,
by showing me that in myself I am a dying, condemned wretch,
but that in Christ
I am reconciled, made alive, and satisfied;
that I am feeble and unable to do any good,
but that in Him
I can do all things;
that what I now have in Christ is mine in part,
but shortly I shall have it perfectly in heaven.

—From The Valley of Vision—A Collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions

I am an apologist for hymns that teach sound theology and stout doctrine. As far as I am concerned you can keep most, if not all the sentimental, romantic hymns of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. I do not care to go to the garden alone. And my ego does not need further inflating by singing hymns in which Jesus is said to walk with me and talk with me and tell me I am His own. I should rather think the opposite concern is the more important one. That Jesus is confessed by me as Savior and worshiped by me as Lord would seem more appropriate if not more theologically accurate as well as redemptively needful.

No, give me the hymns of Watts and Wesley, Cowper and Toplady, and just about any hymn written by John Newton. Their hymns were the lyrical equivalent of how I once heard Germans describe their beer— as liquid bread. Stout stuff those old hymns. Lyrical bread that feeds the soul, encourages the heart and inspires the imagination to ponder the glories of our great God and King.

It is not that I am an anti-sentimentalist, but hymns in which Jesus is depicted as a sandal-shod, robe-wearing, soft-treading Savior who knocks gently on the door of my heart, calling me softly and tenderly as He waits helplessly for me to answer is not the kind of Savior who inspires faith, hope and love. Is that the kind of Savior portrayed in the Scripture? Thank God, the answer is no. And our hymns should reflect that.

One such hymn is “Let Us Love and Sing and Wonder,” written in 1774 by John Newton. Newton was born in London, England on July 24, 1725. He died in London on December 21, 1807. As far as the dash in between his birth and his death, Newton, who also penned the hymn “Amazing Grace,” was a sailor, a slave-trader, and a preacher. It is a checkered resume to be sure, but it is one salted with the amazing grace of God. Whereas “Amazing Grace” is an autobiography of salvation by grace, “Let Us Love and Sing and Wonder” expresses how we should then live as those whose lives have been transformed by grace. Since any exposition will not suffice I will simply let Newton’s words speak for themselves.

Let us love and sing and wonder,
Let us praise the Savior’s Name!
He has hushed the law’s loud thunder,
He has quenched Mount Sinai’s flame.
He has washed us with His blood,
He has brought us nigh to God.

Let us love the Lord Who bought us,
Pitied us when enemies,
Called us by His grace, and taught us,
Gave us ears and gave us eyes:
He has washed us with His blood,
He presents our souls to God.

Let us sing, though fierce temptation
Threaten hard to bear us down!
For the Lord, our strong Salvation,
Holds in view the conqueror’s crown:
He Who washed us with His blood
Soon will bring us home to God.

Let us wonder; grace and justice
Join and point to mercy’s store;
When through grace in Christ our trust is,
Justice smiles and asks no more:
He Who washed us with His blood
Has secured our way to God.

Let us praise, and join the chorus
Of the saints enthroned on high;
Here they trusted Him before us,
Now their praises fill the sky:
“Thou hast washed us with Your blood;
Thou art worthy, Lamb of God!”

Hark! the Name of Jesus, sounded
Loud, from golden harps above!
Lord, we blush, and are confounded,
Faint our praises, cold our love!
Wash our souls and songs with blood,
For by Thee we come to God.

Now that is a hymn.

You think about that.

O Thou Most High,

It becomes me to be low in thy presence.
I am nothing compared with thee;
I possess not the rank and power of angels,
but thou hast made me what I am,
and placed me where I am;
help me to acquiesce in thy sovereign pleasure.
I thank thee that in the embryo state
of my endless being
I am capable by grace of improvement;
that I can bear thy image,
not by submissiveness, but by design,
and can work with thee and advance thy cause and glory.

But, alas, the crown has fallen from my head:
I have sinned;
I am alien to thee;
my head is deceitful and wicked,
my mind an enemy to thy law.

Yet, in my lostness thou hast laid help
on the Mighty One
and he comes between to put his hands on us both,
my Umpire, Daysman, Mediator,
whose blood is my peace,
whose righteousness is my strength,
whose condemnation is my freedom,
whose Spirit is my power,
whose heaven is my heritage.

Grant that I may feel more the strength of thy grace
in subduing the evil of my nature,
in loosing me from the present evil world,
in supporting me under the trials of life,
in enabling me to abide with thee in my valleys,
in exercising me to have a conscience void
of offence before thee and before men.

In all my affairs may I distinguish between
duty and anxiety,
and may my character
and not my circumstances
chiefly engage me.

—From The Valley of Vision—A Collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions