WHEN
SERMONS
ARE
FORGOTTEN
— MUSIC
LINGERS
ON
On an
early
Sunday
morning
in 1935,
I stood
at the
edge of
Biscayne
Bay in
Coconut
Grove,
Florida,
and
watched
my
mother
and
father
wade
into the
water
for
baptism.
About
ten
other
believers
went
with
them.
The sky
was
blue,
the
water
calm as
glass,
and as
they
entered,
the
congregation
sang,
On
Jordan’s
stormy
banks I
stand
and cast
a
wishful
eye,
To
Canaan’s
fair and
happy
land
where my
possessions
lie;
O, who
will
come and
go with
me?,
I am
bound
for the
Promised
Land!
In that
awesome
moment
people
in the
congregation
felt as
if they
stood
with
Joshua
on the
banks of
the
Jordan
and saw
the land
of
promise
stretching
before
them.
Though I
did not
yet
“know
the
Lord,” I
Samuel
3:7, an
impression
was made
on my
five-year
old mind
that
time
cannot
erase. I
will
never
forget
that
song or
that
day.
Our
church,
“Little
Flock”,
was a
primitive
Baptist
congregation
trying
desperately
to hold
to a
17th
century
identity
and
practice.
Many of
the
sermons
were
chanted
and in
my case
quickly
forgotten.
What I
will
never
forget
are the
songs–all
of which
were
sung
a’cappella–and
many in
minor
key.
Instrumental
music
was
forbidden
in
Little
Flock.
Most men
and
women
sat
separately.
Even
though I
heard
hours of
preaching,
I
realize
now that
I
learned
more
gospel
from the
hymn
book
than I
did from
the
pulpit.
My
father
and
mother
sang
hymns
every
day.
Their
worship
was a
constant,
burning
incense
in our
home.
My dad
was a
World
War I
veteran
with an
unhealed
injury.
Though
pain was
his
constant
companion
it could
not
diminish
his
faith in
the
Lord.
Sometimes
at night
when
everyone
was in
bed he
would
burst
into
singing
in the
dark.
There is
no way
to
over-emphasize
the
impact
these
songs
had in
our
lives.
During
the
“great
depression”
years of
the
1930's
when
American
families
were in
crisis
we clung
tenaciously
to the
encouragement
the
hymns
brought.
Their
messages
fed our
hearts
when
there
was
little
food on
the
table.
Clothes
were old
and
faded
but the
hymns
assured
us we
were
“robed
in His
righteousness
alone,
faultless
to stand
before
the
Throne”.
In
worship
we
discovered
we were
“Kings
and
Priests”
before
God.
Though I
had
little
musical
talent I
came to
love
hundreds
of hymns
and
committed
many of
them to
memory.
Since
Little
Flock
allowed
no
Sunday
School I
was
doubly-dependent
on the
hymnal
for my
teaching.
It
became
my
catechism.
Looking
back, I
realize
now that
some of
history’s
greatest
Christian
writers
were
pouring
their
best
into me.
Through
them I
was
instructed
in an
academy
of Bible
topics.
More
importantly,
the
hymns
prepared
the way
for my
dramatic
salvation-experience
that
came at
age
seventeen.
In spite
of the
presence
of
Christian
songs in
our
home, I
did not
personally
know the
Lord. In
May,
1948, at
the
close of
the
Sunday
morning
service
at
another
Primitive
Baptist
Church
the
congregation
began to
sing,
Come!,
ye
sinners,
poor and
needy!
Weak
and
wounded,
sick and
sore,
Jesus
ready
stands
to save
you,
Full of
pity,
love and
power
...
Let not
conscience
make you
linger,
Nor of
fitness
fondly
dream,
All the
fitness
He
requireth,
Is to
feel
your
need of
Him ...
The
Holy
Spirit
suddenly
exploded
in me
like a
bomb. I
gripped
the pew
and held
on. The
song had
thoroughly
exposed
my
heart.
My total
lack of
fitness
overwhelmed
me. Then
came the
next
lines.
Their
power
was
inescapable:
I
will
arise
and go
to
Jesus!,
He will
embrace
me in
His
arms,
In the
arms of
my dear
Savior,
O there
are ten
thousand
charms.
I will
arise
and go
to
Jesus!
Shoving
my
brother
aside I
charged
into the
aisle
and ran
into the
church
parking
lot. It
was
there–not
at the
altar–that
I was
saved.
Suddenly–unexpectedly–I
was
born-again.
The
refrain,
“I will
arise
and go
to
Jesus”,
made me
realize
that
“all the
fitness
He
required
was to
feel my
need of
Him.”
For the
first
time, I
felt
that
need in
a
horrendous
way.
That
night I
returned
to the
church
and was
baptized.
Though
I can’t
be
certain,
the
congregation
probably
sang, “O
who will
come and
go with
me?, I
am bound
for the
Promised
Land
...”
This I
know:
When I
rose
from the
Jordan
that
night
all I
saw
before
me were,
“Sweet
fields
beyond
the
swelling
flood,
Stand
dressed
in
living
green,
As to
the Jews
old
Canaan
stood,
While
Jordan
rolled
between”.
From
that
moment
on, I
was a
believing
disciple
of
Jesus.
My
relationship
with Him
was
personal
and
real.
The Holy
Spirit
moved
quickly
in my
life. In
less
than a
year I
had a
day-time
vision
in which
I saw
myself
preaching.
That was
my
“call”
to the
ministry.
After my
ministerial-licensing,
my
pastor
encouraged
me to
“study
as if it
all
depended
on me—to
preach
as if it
all
depended
on God.”
Best of
all, he
said,
“Charles,
let the
Holy
Spirit
select
your
subjects
and let
Him
preach
them
through
you.
–All you
do is
pray and
obey.”
My 60
years of
ministry
have
been
enormously
benefitted
by his
advice.
But even
in
preaching
I
sometimes
found
tremendous
support
in the
hymnal.
One of
the
songs we
frequently
sang
just
before
the
sermon
was this
one:
Brethren,
we have
met to
worship,
And
adore
the Lord
our God,
Will
you pray
with all
your
power,
While
we try
to
preach
the
Word?
All is
vain
unless
the
Spirit
of the
Holy One
comes
down,
Let us
pray
that
holy
manna
may be
scattered
all
around
...
From
the
beginning
I knew
my
preaching
was
“vain
unless
the
Spirit
of the
Holy One
came
down”.
And the
imagery
of holy
manna
falling
on a
congregation
of
worshipers
while I
“tried
to
preach
the
Word”
became
very
real in
my mind.
Before
long
that
began
happening.
Even in
summer-time
revivals,
in hot,
non-air-conditioned,
crowded
buildings,
we
experienced
sudden
invasions
of the
Holy
Spirit.
“Holy
manna”
rained
down on
us. I
saw it
happen.
Weeping,
shouting,
believers
hugging
each
other
across
the
pews,
others
running
forward
in
repentance,
some
dropping
on their
knees,
would
suddenly
seize a
congregation.
These
people
were
hard-line,
old-time
Baptists
who
suppressed
emotion
and
religious
display.
But it
happened
anyway.
I will
never
forget a
dear,
elderly
woman on
the
front
row who
was
suddenly
stricken
by the
glory of
the Lord
during
the
final
song.
Her arms
shot up,
the
hymnal
went
flying
to the
ceiling,
and she
fell
back on
the pew
clapping
her
hands,
shouting,
and
kicking
her
feet.
The hymn
we were
singing
escorted
her into
the
presence
of God.
Knowing
the
power
hidden
in those
old
songs,
when I
hear
people
today
speak
unappreciatively
of them,
I say,
“If you
only
knew! If
you only
knew!”
These
critics
do not
appreciate
music
from
that
by-gone
era
because
they do
not
understand
the
prophetic-language
the
songs
contain.
Most of
their
sentiment
came
directly
from
Scripture.
I only
wish
that
modern
charismatic-congregations
had the
benefit
of the
music
that
endured
for
centuries
and
sustained
the
saints
during
times of
war,
famine,
and
disaster.
I have
been on
both
sides of
the
church’s
vocal-fence
and know
whereof
I speak.
Today, I
enjoy
the
lively
beat of
the new
choruses
and
enjoy
singing
them.
They are
wonderfully
rich in
worship
though
many are
tragically
weak in
content.
That is
not an
unfair
judgment.
At the
same
time, I
respect
those
whose
taste
differs
from
mine.
I
realize
that
every
generation
of
Christians
must
make its
own
contribution
to the
storehouse
of music
and
literature.
My point
is this:
Today’s
church
needs
both
styles
of
worship:
Hymns
and
choruses.
Unfortunately,
much
church
music
today
focus on
instrumental
performance
on stage
and does
not
encourage
singing
in the
congregation.
I have
sometimes
watched
musicians
“do
their
thing”
and
never
look to
see if
the
audience
was
responding.
That is
tragic.
Our
problem
is
compounded
because
today’s
music
industry
quickly
pushes
out last
year’s
choruses
so it
can sell
new
ones.
This
money-motive
was
unknown
in the
past. In
that
era, it
was
songs
that
inspired
revivals
and sent
missionaries
around
the
world.
The
Welsh
Revival
of the
early
1900's
was
characterized
by
congregational
singing.
In many
services
there
were no
sermons.
One of
the
martyrs
of
medieval
Europe
was
still
singing
when the
roar of
fire
drowned
out his
voice.
His last
words
were the
hymn,
“This
soul of
mine in
flames
of fire,
O Christ
I offer
Thee!”
In
spite of
my
a’cappella
past, no
one
appreciates
or
believes
in
instrumental
music
more
than I.
But I am
also
aware
that we
are in
danger
of
creating
a false
“religious”
experience
in place
of an
authentic
encounter
with the
Holy
Spirit.
Such a
possibility
frightens
me. My
friend,
R. T.
Kendall
calls
this
“pigeon
religion”.
In other
words,
the
“dove”
of the
Spirit
has been
replaced
by a
similar-looking
but
pseudo-counterpart
bird.
While I
can
still
worship
God in
the
format
of a
traditional,
three-hymn,
Sunday
morning
service,
under no
circumstance
will I
pretend
that it
is a
parallel
of first
century
worship.
It
absolutely
is not.
Nor
would I
be so
foolish
as to
believe
that
twentieth-century
electric
amplifiers
rattling
church
windows
and
vibrating
worshipers
would be
acceptable
to the
Apostles.
A
hundred
years
ago
churches
in
Scotland
sent
pipe
organs
to
Africa
so that
natives
could
worship
God
"more
appropriately".
That was
a waste
of
effort
and
money.
The
African's
drum was
as
acceptable
to God
as the
biggest
organ in
Aberdeen.
Guitars
in rural
meeting
houses
are as
appropriate
as the
classics
in
English
Cathedrals.
Authentic
Hebrew
melodies
delight
me more
than any
other–but
I
rejoice
in the
wonderful
variety
that is
now
available.
In my
opinion,
Heaven
will
have
both
explosive
celebration-worship
such as
took
place at
the
Tabernacle
of David
and the
breath-holding,
silent
awe of
Solomon’s
Temple.
What I
am
longing
for is
the
scene of
charismatic
worship
in the
1970's
when
entire
congregations
fell
into
deep,
deep
encounters
with
God.
Like
priests
at the
dedication
of
Solomon's
Temple,
we were
prostrate
on the
floor
with a
Glory
Cloud
filling
the
building.
Voices
would
drop to
the
level of
a murmur
as we
left the
Outer
Court of
the
Tabernacle,
slid
under
the
veil,
and rose
up in
the
Shekinah
Glory of
the Holy
of
Holies.
I long
for that
kind of
worship
to
return.
The
nearest
to
Heaven-on-earth
I've
ever
been was
once in
Sierra
Leon,
West
Africa,
when the
worship
became
an
uninterrupted,
angelic-like
chorus
of
tongues.
No
instruments
were
used and
voices
rose and
fell,
wave-like,
as
worshipers
sang in
the
Spirit.
I
Corinthians
14:15.
Some 17
different
tribal
languages
were
present
in that
huge
auditorium
but they
all
disappeared
as
“tongues
of men
and
angels”
transformed
everyone’s
voice
into
one,
spiritual
song of
the
Lord.
Never
before
and
never
since,
have I
experienced
reverence
and
adoration
of God
so real,
so
magnificent!
Suddenly,
it
lifted
the
congregation
above
earth’s
noise
and
clamor
into the
glory of
Heaven.
That
day–for
the
first
time–I
think I
experienced
what
Issac
Watts
wrote in
a hymn
in the
1700's.
He said:
“There
shall I
bathe my
weary
soul in
seas of
heavenly
rest
And not
a wave
of
trouble
roll
across
my
peaceful
breast.”
I have
a
special
reason
for
sharing
my love
for the
old
hymns
with
you: I
want to
take you
on a
journey
with me
back to
Little
Flock
Church.
Our trip
will
begin in
the
mid-1930's.
America
is
wounded
and
literally
on its
knees.
There is
famine
in the
land. In
many
cities,
bread
lines
are
long.
Numerous
wives
and
children
are
separated
from
husbands
and
fathers
who are
away
looking
for
work.
But! In
that
painful
scene,
imagine
yourself–as
a
child–being
systematically
taught
Kingdom
truth
through
the
singing
of old
hymns.
These
songs
kept
America
alive.
Spiritually
and
nationally,
in spite
of
famine,
our
borders
were
secure.
Before
you
begin
the
trip,
please
pray
that you
will
hear the
message
of these
songs
in-depth.
Allow
yourself
time to
experience
the
spiritual
power
they
wield.
Ask the
Holy
Spirit
to speak
to you
through
them.
1.
In this
first
hymn,
you
learn of
God’s
faithfulness
in the
midst of
human
suffering.
How
firm a
foundation,
ye
saints
of the
Lord,
Is laid
for your
faith in
His
excellent
Word!
What
more can
He say
than to
you He
hath
said,
You,
who to
Jesus
for
refuge
have
fled?
In
every
condition,
in
sickness,
in
health;
In
poverty’s
vale, or
abounding
in
wealth;
At home
and
abroad,
on the
land, on
the sea,
As thy
days may
demand,
shall
thy
strength
ever be.
Fear
not, I
am with
thee, O
be not
dismayed,
For I
am thy
God and
will
still
give
thee
aid;
I’ll
strengthen
and help
thee,
and
cause
thee to
stand,
Upheld
by My
righteous,
omnipotent
hand.
When
through
the deep
waters I
call
thee to
go,
The
rivers
of
sorrow
shall
not
overflow;
For I
will be
with
thee,
thy
troubles
to
bless,
And
sanctify
to thee
thy
deepest
distress.
Even
down to
old age
all My
people
shall
prove,
My
sovereign,
eternal,
unchangeable
love;
And
when
silvery
hair
shall
their
temples
adorn,
Like
lambs
they
shall
still in
My bosom
be
borne.
When
through
fiery
trials
thy
pathways
shall
lie,
My
grace,
all
sufficient,
shall be
thy
supply;
The
flame
shall
not hurt
thee; I
only
design,
Thy
dross to
consume,
and thy
gold to
refine.
The
soul
that on
Jesus
has
leaned
for
repose,
I will
not, I
will not
desert
to its
foes;
That
soul,
though
all hell
should
endeavor
to
shake,
Ill
never,
no
never,
no never
forsake!
2.
This
hymn
teaches
you
about
the
cleansing
power of
Jesus’
blood:
There
is a
fountain
filled
with
blood
drawn
from
Emmanuel’s
veins;
And
sinners
plunged
beneath
that
flood
lose all
their
guilty
stains.
The
dying
thief
rejoiced
to see
that
fountain
in his
day;
And
there
may I,
though
vile as
he, wash
all my
sins
away.
Dear
dying
Lamb,
Thy
precious
blood
shall
never
lose its
power
‘Till
all the
ransomed
church
of God
be
saved,
to sin
no more.
E’er
since,
by
faith, I
saw the
stream
Thy
flowing
wounds
supply,
Redeeming
love has
been my
theme,
and
shall be
till I
die.
Then in
a
nobler,
sweeter
song
I’ll
sing Thy
power to
save
When
this
poor
lisping,
stammering
tongue
lies
silent
in the
grave
3.
Here,
you
learn
that
angels
join you
in
worshiping
Jesus.
All
hail the
power of
Jesus
Name!
Let
angels
prostrate
fall;
Bring
forth
the
royal
diadem,
and
crown
Him Lord
of all.
Ye
chosen
seed of
Israel’s
race, Ye
ransomed
from the
fall,
Hail
Him Who
saves
you by
His
grace,
and
crown
Him Lord
of all.
Sinners,
whose
love
cannot
forget
the
wormwood
and the
gall,
Go
spread
your
trophies
at His
feet,
and
crown
Him Lord
of all.
Let
every
kindred,
every
tribe,
On this
terrestrial
ball,
To Him
all
majesty
ascribe,
And
crown
Him Lord
of all!
O that,
with
yonder
sacred
throng,
we at
His feet
may
fall,
Join in
the
everlasting
song,
and
crown
Him Lord
of all,
4.
You even
learn
about
Spiritual
Warfare
and
God’s
victory
through
you:
Am
I a
soldier
of the
Cross,
A
follower
of the
Lamb?,
And
shall I
fear to
own His
cause,
Or
blush to
speak
His
name?
Must I
be
carried
to the
skies,
On
flowery
beds of
ease
While
others
fought
to win
the
prize,
And
sailed
through
bloody
seas?
No! I
must
fight if
I would
reign,
Increase
my
courage
Lord!
I’ll
stand
the
test,
endure
the
pain,
Supported
by Thy
word.
Thy
saints
in all
this
glorious
war,
Shall
conquer
though
they
die,
They
see the
triumph
from
afar,
And
seize it
with
their
eye!
When
that
illustrious
day
shall
rise,
And all
Thine
armies
shine,
In
robes of
victory
through
the
skies,
The
Glory
shall be
Thine!
5.
And, you
learn
about
the
saints
pursuit
of
sanctification:
Let
worldly
minds
the
world
pursue,
It has
no
charms
for me,
Once I
admired
its
trifles
too, But
grace
has set
me free.
Its
pleasures
now no
longer
please,
No more
content
afford,
Far
from my
heart be
toys
like
these,
Since I
have
known
the Lord
...
6.
You
discover
a
longing
for a
deeper
relationship
with the
Lord:
O
for a
closer
walk
with
God! A
calm and
heavenly
frame,
A light
to shine
upon the
road,
That
leads me
to the
Lamb.
Where
is the
blessedness
I knew,
When
first I
saw the
Lord,
Where
is the
soul-refreshing
view, Of
Jesus
and His
word?
Return,
O holy
dove
return,
Sweet
messenger
of rest,
I hate
the sins
that
made
Thee
mourn,
And
drove
thee
from my
breast.
The
dearest
idol I
have
known,
What
e’re
that
idol be,
Help me
to tear
it from
thy
throne,
And
worship
only
thee ...
7.
Suddenly,
you
recognize
your
need for
genuine
faith:
O
for a
faith
that
will not
shrink,
Though
pressed
by every
foe,
That
will not
tremble
on the
brink,
Of any
earthly
foe.
A faith
that
shines
more
bright
and
clear,
When
tempests
rage
without,
That
when in
danger
knows no
fear, In
darkness
feels no
doubt!
Lord,
give us
each
such
faith as
this,
And then
what
ever may
come,
We’ll
taste
even
here the
hallowed
bliss,
Of our
eternal
home.
8.
You
learn
that
Babylon–your
great
foe–loses
and you
win!
Hail
the day
so long
expected,
Hail the
year of
full
release!
Zion's
walls
are now
erected,
And her
watchmen
publish
peace.
Through
our
Shiloh's
wide
dominion,
Hear the
trumpet
loudly
roar,
Babylon
is
fallen,
is
fallen,
fallen,
fallen,
Babylon
is
fallen,
to rise
no more!
All her
merchants
stand
with
wonder,
What is
this
that
comes to
pass:
Murm'ring
like the
distant
thunder,
Crying,
"Oh
alas,
alas."
Swell
the
sound,
ye kings
and
nobles,
Priest
and
people,
rich and
poor;
Babylon
is
fallen
is
fallen,
fallen,
fallen,
Babylon
is
fallen,
to rise
no more!
Blow
the
trumpet
in Mount
Zion,
Christ
shall
come a
second
time;
Ruling
with a
rod of
iron,
All who
now as
foes
combine.
Babel's
garments
we've
rejected,
And our
fellowship
is o'er,
Babylon
is
fallen,
fallen,
fallen,
Babylon
is
fallen,
to rise
no more!
9.
Unexpectedly,
the
gospel
penetrates
you with
its
irresistible
call:
Come,
ye
sinners,
poor and
needy,
Weak and
wounded,
sick and
sore;
Jesus
ready
stands
to save
you,
Full of
pity,
love and
power.
Come,
ye
thirsty,
come,
and
welcome,
God’s
free
bounty
glorify;
True
belief
and true
repentance,
Every
grace
that
brings
you
nigh.
Come,
ye
weary,
heavy
laden,
Lost and
ruined
by the
fall;
If you
tarry
till
you’re
better,
You will
never
come at
all.
Let not
conscience
make you
linger,
Not of
fitness
fondly
dream;
All the
fitness
He
requireth,
Is to
feel
your
need of
Him.
I will
arise
and go
to
Jesus,
He will
embrace
me in
His
arms,
In the
arms of
my dear
Savior,
O there
are ten
thousand
charms!
10.
The
gospel
calls
you into
“believer’s
baptism”:
Down
to the
sacred
wave,
The Lord
of life
was led;
And He
Who came
our
souls to
save, In
Jordan
bowed
His
head.
He
taught
the
solemn
way; He
fixed
the holy
rite;
He bade
His
ransomed
ones
obey,
And keep
the
paths of
light.
Blest
Savior,
we
descend,
In Thy
appointed
way;
Let
glory
o’er
these
scenes
be shed,
And
smile on
us today
11.
In
baptism,
you see
the
Promised
Land
before
you:
On
Jordan’s
stormy
banks I
stand,
And cast
a
wishful
eye
To
Canaan’s
fair and
happy
land,
Where my
possessions
lie.
I am
bound
for the
Promised
Land, I
am bound
for the
Promised
Land,
O who
will
come and
go with
me, I am
bound
for the
Promised
Land!
O the
transporting,
rapturous
scene,
That
rises to
my
sight!
Sweet
fields
arrayed
in
living
green,
And
rivers
of
delight!
I am
bound
for the
Promised
Land ...
O’er
all
those
wide
extended
plains
shines
one
eternal
day,
There
God the
Son
forever
reigns,
And
scatters
night
away
I am
bound
for the
Promised
Land ...
No
chilling
winds or
poisonous
breath
Can
reach
that
healthful
shore;
Sickness
and
sorrow,
pain and
death
Are
feared
and felt
no more.
I am
bound
for the
Promised
Land ...
Filled
with
delight
my
raptured
soul,
Would
here no
longer
stay,
Though
Jordan’s
waves
around
me roll,
Fearless
I’d
launch
away.
I am
bound
for the
Promised
Land ...
Hopefully,
these
few
songs
have
helped
you
understand
why
today’s
church
must not
cut
itself
off from
worship
in the
past.
In 1946
when
Atlanta’s
prestigious
Winecoff
Hotel
burned
late one
night,
trapping
guests
in its
inferno,
it was
the song
“Jesus
Saves!
Jesus
Saves!”,
that the
Salvation
Army
band
sang-out
loudly
as hotel
guests
leaped
from
windows
to their
deaths.
The last
words
some of
them
heard
were
these:
Sing
above
the
battle
strife:
Jesus
saves!
Jesus
saves!
By His
death
and
endless
life:
Jesus
saves!
Jesus
saves!
Sing it
softly
through
the
gloom,
When the
heart
for
mercy
craves,
Sing in
triumph
o’er the
tomb:
Jesus
saves!
Jesus
saves!
Give
the
winds a
mighty
voice:
Jesus
saves!
Jesus
saves!
Let the
nations
now
rejoice:
Jesus
saves!
Jesus
saves!
Shout
salvation
full and
free,
highest
hills
and
deepest
caves,
This
our song
of
victory:
Jesus
saves!
Jesus
saves!
AMEN!
