Once again Easter is here. Our regular readers know that the three authors of this blog belong to different churches and faith traditions, but we all strive to be disciples of Jesus Christ and take seriously our commitment to do so. In that spirit, and as before, I’ll post the words of my all-time favorite hymn, “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing:”
Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
mount of thy redeeming love.
Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
hither by thy help I’m come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.
O to grace how great a debtor
daily I’m constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.
This biographical summary tells us a little about the author, Robert Robinson. The music is a beautiful traditional tune named “Nettleton,” about which you can find more in Wyeth’s Repository of Sacred Music, Part Second, by John Wyeth. I’ve heard several hymns set to the same tune. As a congregational hymn “Come Thou Fount” is a little on the difficult side but most church choirs can handle it easily. My favorite arrangement is the one by Mack Wilberg, music director of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. (This Youtube is worth watching.)
This is another favorite, from the late Neal A. Maxwell, of whom Hugh Hewitt is a great admirer. It’s full of quotable nuggets:
The gift of immortality to all is so choice a gift that our rejoicing in these two great and generous gifts should drown out any sorrow, assuage any grief, conquer any mood, dissolve any despair, and tame any tragedy.
Even those who see life as pointless will one day point with adoration to the performance of the Man of Galilee in the crowded moments of time known as Gethsemane and Calvary. Those who now say life is meaningless will yet applaud the atonement, which saved us all from meaninglessness.
Christ’s victory over death routs the rationale that there is a general and irreversible human predicament; there are only personal predicaments, but even from these we can also be rescued by following the pathway of Him who rescued us from general extinction.
A disciple’s “brightness of hope,” therefore, means that at funerals his tears are not because of termination, but because of interruption and separation. Though just as wet, his tears are not of despair, but of appreciation and anticipation. Yes, for disciples, the closing of a grave is but the closing of a door that will later be flung open.
It is the Garden Tomb, not life, that is empty!
Neal A. Maxwell, Wherefore Ye Must Press Forward, pp. 132-3
“Those who now say life is meaningless will yet applaud the atonement, which saved us all from meaninglessness.”
I love that. Happy Easter.