This post by Rev Hap Arnold is on the same hymn Bishop Jerry covered last year in THIS POSTING, you might like to read both.
 |
| It is Well with My Soul |
Many of us have need of God’s
guidance to let our souls accept the peace of our Lord Jesus that is freely
given us, yet we have a hard time accepting. Each of us has a tendency, some more some less, to believe
our actions are primary to the outcome of our lives. To some extent this is true, Jesus call us to action, not
mere diction. But we need to
recognize where our duty to act ends and our duty to trust begins. This hymn more than any other with
which I am familiar makes that point.
The tune is Ville du Havre, from the name of the stricken vessel,
by Phillip Bliss.
The writer Horatio Spafford
experienced the action trust dilemma as much as anyone can do. He was a prominent Chicago attorney and
real estate investor in the late 1800s. The Great Chicago Fire of 1871 ruined
him financially, as most of his holdings were destroyed. His business interests were further hit
by the economic downturn of 1873, at which time he had planned to travel to
Europe with his family on the SS Ville du
Havre. In a late change of plan, he sent the family ahead while he was
delayed on business concerning zoning problems following the Great Chicago
Fire. While crossing the Atlantic, the ship sank rapidly after a collision with
a another vessel, Loch Earn, with a
loss or 226 people including all four of Spafford's daughters. His wife Anna
survived and sent him the now famous telegram, "Saved alone …".
As Spafford sailed to England to
join his wife following the accident, he wrote It Is Well With My Soul – crossing the ocean where he’d just lost
his daughters and probably passing near the same area.
The Spaffords later had three
more children; their son, Horatio Goertner Spafford, died at the age of four,
of scarlet fever. Their daughters were Bertha Hedges Spafford and Grace Spafford.
In 1881, the Spaffords, including baby Bertha and newborn Grace, set sail for
Ottoman-Turkish Palestine. The Spaffords settled in Jerusalem and helped found
a group called the American Colony. Colony members, later joined by Swedish
Christians, engaged in philanthropic work among the people of Jerusalem
regardless of their religious affiliation and without proselytizing
motives—thereby gaining the trust of the local Muslim, Jewish, and Christian
communities. During and immediately after World War I, the American Colony
played a critical role in supporting these communities through the great
suffering and deprivations by running soup kitchens, hospitals, orphanages and
other charitable ventures. Horatio Spafford died from malaria days before his
60th birthday.
No matter what our current state,
Horatio Spafford gently prods us to remember all that is really important is
that it is well with my soul. No
matter the slings and arrows of this life, there is nothing, nothing that
matters compared to the fact that with our Lord’s gift of grace and help, it is
well with my soul. When you read
or hear the hymn, think of the picture painted in those words. Put your trust in God as you hear…
It Is Well With My Soul
When peace,
like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows
like sea billows roll;
Whatever my
lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it
is well with my soul.
Refrain:
It is well with
my soul,
It is well, it
is well with my soul.
Though Satan
should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest
assurance control,
That Christ
hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed
His own blood for my soul.
Refrain
My sin—oh, the
bliss of this glorious thought!—
My sin, not in
part but the whole,
Is nailed to
the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the
Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
Refrain
For me, be it
Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above
me shall roll,
No pang shall
be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt
whisper Thy peace to my soul.
Refrain
But, Lord, ’tis
for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not
the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of
the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope,
blessed rest of my soul!
Refrain
And Lord, haste
the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be
rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall
resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is
well with my soul.
Walk through the hymn
slowly.
When peace,
like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows
like sea billows roll;
Whatever my
lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it
is well with my soul.
No matter, peace or turmoil, with
God in our hearts, it will be well with our soul.
Though Satan
should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest
assurance control,
That Christ
hath regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed
His own blood for my soul.
No matter the trials and
tribulations of this world, take full assurance that our Lord knows our
hopelessness and helplessness and has shed His very own blood that it might be
well with our soul.
My sin—oh, the
bliss of this glorious thought!—
My sin, not in
part but the whole,
Is nailed to
the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the
Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
We are accounted as perfect, not
in part, but in whole. Not
setting aside some of our sin, but every last bit. It is nailed firmly to the Cross from where it cannot leave. It is separated from us. Thanks be to God!
For me, be it
Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above
me shall roll,
No pang shall
be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt
whisper Thy peace to my soul.
We live in Christ for ever
more. No matter if the River
Jordan is over us or we over it, we live none the less, no fear of what others
might believe to be death. For us
there is only life and peace in our soul.
But, Lord, ’tis
for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not
the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of
the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope,
blessed rest of my soul!
While we wait here on earth for
the end of our time, ours or that of the earth matter not to us. For our end is never ending in heaven,
not the Pit or the grave. We look
to the trumpet blast of the angels, not the deathly quiet of the grave.
And Lord, haste
the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be
rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall
resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is
well with my soul.
We look forward with great
expectation for that day we see heaven and not just think about it. We look forward to the clouded vision
clearing to brightness and the sights and sounds of our Lord.
Until then:
It is well with my soul!
