The Last Two Sundays

The Last Two Sundays of September

It’s been a hectic month. I can’t believe September is over today. I’m behind in my blogging.
I just bought a copy of The John Rutter Collection with the Cambridge Singers and the City of London Sinfonia. Our choir sings a lot of Rutter anthems.

Here are the hymns from the last two weeks. Some of the hymns from both weeks seemed like funeral hymns to me, but they fit the scripture readings.

Readings for September 25, Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Exodus 17:1-7
Psalm 78:1-4, 12-16
Philippians 2:1-13
Matthew 21:23-32

Hymns for September 25

Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me

This very popular hymn was written by the Reverend Augustus Montague Toplady, and music by Thomas Hastings. The tune is actually called “Toplady”. The lyrics to the hymn were first published in The Gospel Magazine in 1775, with the music added in around 1830.

1. Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
let me hide myself in thee;
let the water and the blood,
from thy wounded side which flowed,
be of sin the double cure;
save from wrath and make me pure.

2. Not the labors of my hands
can fulfill thy law's commands;
could my zeal no respite know,
could my tears forever flow,
all for sin could not atone;
thou must save, and thou alone.

3. Nothing in my hand I bring,
simply to the cross I cling;
naked, come to thee for dress;
helpless, look to thee for grace;
foul, I to the fountain fly;
wash me, Savior, or I die.

4. While I draw this fleeting breath,
when mine eyes shall close in death,
when I soar to worlds unknown,
see thee on thy judgment throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
let me hide myself in thee.

At The Name Of Jesus Every Knee Shall Bow

Philippians 2:10 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth,

Words: Caroline M. Noel, The Name of Jesus, and Other Verses for the Sick and Lonely, 1870. Music: “Wye Valley,” James Mountain, 1876.

At the Name of Jesus, every knee shall bow,
Every tongue confess Him King of glory now;
’Tis the Father’s pleasure we should call Him Lord,
Who from the beginning was the mighty Word.

Mighty and mysterious in the highest height,
God from everlasting, very light of light:
In the Father’s bosom with the spirit blest,
Love, in love eternal, rest, in perfect rest.

At His voice creation sprang at once to sight,
All the angel faces, all the hosts of light,
Thrones and dominations, stars upon their way,
All the heavenly orders, in their great array.

Humbled for a season, to receive a name
From the lips of sinners unto whom He came,
Faithfully He bore it, spotless to the last,
Brought it back victorious when from death He passed.

Bore it up triumphant with its human light,
Through all ranks of creatures, to the central height,
To the throne of Godhead, to the Father’s breast;
Filled it with the glory of that perfect rest.

Name Him, brothers, name Him, with love strong as death
But with awe and wonder, and with bated breath!
He is God the Savior, He is Christ the Lord,
Ever to be worshipped, trusted and adored.

In your hearts enthrone Him; there let Him subdue
All that is not holy, all that is not true;
Crown Him as your Captain in temptation’s hour;
Let His will enfold you in its light and power.

Brothers, this Lord Jesus shall return again,
With His Father’s glory, with His angel train;
For all wreaths of empire meet upon His brow,
And our hearts confess Him King of glory now.

O Love, How Deep, How Broad, How High
The text is a fifteenth century Latin hymn, translated by Benjamin Webb. The tune is called Deo Gracias, an English melody.

1. O love, how deep, how broad, how high,
it fills the heart with ecstasy,
that God, the Son of God, should take
our mortal form for mortals' sake!

2. For us baptized, for us he bore
his holy fast and hungered sore,
for us temptation sharp he knew;
for us the tempter overthrew.

3. For us he prayed; for us he taught;
for us his daily works he wrought;
by words and signs and actions thus
still seeking not himself, but us.

4. For us to evil power betrayed,
scourged, mocked, in purple robe arrayed,
he bore the shameful cross and death,
for us gave up his dying breath.

5. For us he rose from death again;
for us he went on high to reign;
for us he sent his Spirit here,
to guide, to strengthen, and to cheer.

6. All glory to our Lord and God
for love so deep, so high, so broad:
the Trinity whom we adore,


Readings for September 18, Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Exodus 16:2-15
Psalm 105:1-6, 37-45
Matthew 20:1-16

If Thou But Suffer God to Guide Thee

The text is by Georg Neumark, 1621-1681; translated by Catherine Winkworth, 1827-1878
The tune is Wer Nur den Lieben Gott by Georg Neumark.

1. If thou but suffer God to guide thee,
and hope in God through all thy ways,
God will give strength, whate'er betide thee,
and bear thee through the evil days.
Who trusts in God's unchanging love
builds on the rock that naught can move.

2. Only be still, and wait God's leisure
in cheerful hope, with heart content
to take whate'er thy Maker's pleasure
and all-discerning love hath sent;
we know our inmost wants are known,
for we are called to be God's own.

3. Sing, pray, and keep God's ways unswerving;
so do thine own part faithfully,
and trust God's word; though undeserving,
thou yet shalt find it true for thee.

God never yet forsook at need
the soul that trusted God indeed.


The Lone, Wild Bird

The text is by Hery Richard McFayden. There are two other stanzas by Marty Haugen that are still under copyright. The tune is called Prospect. It is from Walker's Southern Harmony, 1835.

1. The lone, wild bird in lofty flight
is still with you, nor leaves your sight.
And I am yours! I rest in you,
Great Spirit, come, rest in me, too.

2. The ends of earth are in your hand,
the sea's dark deep and far off land.
And I am yours! I rest in you,
Great Spirit, come, rest in me, too.

3. Each secret thought is known to you,
the path I walk my whole life through;
my days, my deeds, my hopes, my fears,
my deepest joys, my silent tears.


Abide with Me

The words are by Henry Francis Lyte, written in 1847. The tune is called Eventide by William Henry Monk.

Abide with me: fast falls the eventide;
the darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide:
when other helpers fail and comforts flee,
help of the helpless, O abide with me.

I need thy presence every passing hour;
what but thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless;
ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's dark sting? where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if thou abide with me.

Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes;
shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies;
heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.