It Is Not Death to Die

What a title for a blog post. And what a post to have to write. About a week and a half ago, I found out that an older family friend had been beaten to death outside his home. I'm sure you can imagine the shock I felt when I heard that. Death is never an easy topic to deal with. It hits us deeply for a variety of reasons: we know that we will all die someday; we have experienced losing people we care about; we have a hard time imagining situations without someone there.

But God has given us Scripture to remind us of truth, to strengthen us for battle, to convict us of our sin, and to comfort us in our grief. The apostle Paul in his first letter to the Thessalonians, reminded them:

"But we do not want you to be uninformed, brethren, about those who are asleep, so that you will not grieve as do the rest who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus . . . Therefore comfort one another with these words." (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14, 18, NASB).

 Comfort one another with these words. The hymn I am writing about is meant for comfort. It is not death to die. What a radical statement! This world tells us that we are born, we die, we are buried, we turn to dust, and nothing more. But God has told us truth, and that truth sets us free. I need not fear the grave. I need not grieve without hope. I grieve for the loss of a friend temporarily. I grieve for the pain and anguish that his family is going through. But I grieve knowing that we will be reunited with him. He has fallen asleep in Jesus, and so God will bring him with Jesus when He comes. God is good!

This hymn was written in French in 1832 by Henri Abraham César Malan, and translated into English in 1847 by George Benthune, who asked that the hymn be sung at his funeral.  The traditional music for it was written by Joseph E. Sweetser in 1849. There is a beautiful modification of the lyrics and music by Bob Kauflin, which can be found here and here, and I highly encourage you to listen to it. My video below follows pretty closely the original music.

It Is Not Death to Die

It is not death to die

To leave this weary road

And midst the brotherhood on high

To be at home with God.

It is not death to close

The eye long dimmed by tears,

And wake, in glorious repose,

To spend eternal years.

It is not death to bear

The wrench that sets us free

From dungeon chain to breath the air

Of boundless liberty.

It is not death to fling

Aside this sinful dust

And rise, on strong exulting wing

To live among the just.

Jesus, Thou Prince of Life,

Thy chosen cannot die:

Like Thee, they conquer in the strife

To reign with Thee on high.

(Public Domain)

Tell Me the Old, Old Story

To start with, I want to apologize for it having been so long since I last wrote.  With the exception of last December's post, since the last time I posted regularly on this blog, I have lived in 3 different states, visited 7, taken and passed a bar exam, began a whole new career, and had busy, good, and difficult times. None of that excuses my failure to keep up on this blog, and I hope that those of you who have followed this blog for a time or have stumbled upon it since the last time I posted regularly will forgive me. I hope to get back to posting somewhat regularly, with my goal being twice a month, probably on Sundays.

In 1865, then in her thirties, Katherine Hankey fell seriously ill. It was in January 1866, as she began her long road to recovery, that she began to write a poem. She wrote eight verses, and then laid it aside. In November 1866, she picked up those verses and wrote another 47. The full poem, entitled "The Old, Old Story," consists of two parts. The first part, "The Story Wanted," were those first eight verses, and the second part, "The Story Told" responds by telling the story of Jesus and His love. The eight verses at the beginning were combined into 4 verses for the hymn I'm writing about today, "Tell Me the Old, Old Story." Ms. Hankey also wrote another hymn, "I Love to Tell the Story," based on her poem. Because the poem is so long, rather than reproducing it here, I will simply provide this link to it. I encourage you to read it. As I read it, I began to tear up because of how simply, yet beautifully, it tells the old, old story.

The music for this hymn was written by William Howard Doane, who heard the words to the poem read by a British Major General at the International Convention of the YMCA (back when the C actually stood for Christian), and was inspired to write music for those words. One more well-known hymn that he also wrote the music for is "To God be the Glory."

What I love about this hymn is that it acknowledges our need to hear the Gospel preached to us repeatedly. It acknowledges that we "forget so soon," that we are often "weak and weary," and that "this world's empty glory [costs us] too dear" far too often.

When life is hard and I am tired of fighting temptation and frustration and despair, when I forget the truth, when I need comfort, or when I am facing an opportunity for my own glory, do I go to my brothers and sisters in Christ? They will remind me of the truth:

"For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth."      (Job 19:25, ESV).

"Therefore, I will always be ready to remind you of these things, even though you already know them, and have been established in the truth which is present with you."   (2 Peter 1:12, NASB).

"On an appointed day Herod, having put on his royal apparel, took his seat on the rostrum and began delivering an address to them. The people kept crying out, 'The voice of a god and not of a man!' And immediately an angel of the Lord struck him because he did not give God the glory, and he was eaten by worms and died."                                      (Acts 12:21-23).

  Are we always ready to remind one another of truth, and to preach the Gospel to each other? Are we running to those we know will remind us of the truth when we need to hear it? Let the cry of our heart be, "Tell Me the Old, Old Story." Let our answer to any need start with "Christ Jesus makes thee whole." It can't end there. As brothers and sisters in Christ, we need to care for one another, bear one another's burdens, and meet one another's needs. But if it doesn't start with Christ, it will never be enough. To quote the first question of the Heidelberg Catechism:

What is your only comfort in life and in death? That I am not my own, but belong with body and soul, both in life and in death, to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ.

Tell Me the Old, Old Story

Tell me the old, old story

Of unseen things above,

Of Jesus and His glory,

Of Jesus and His love;

Tell me the story simply,

As to a little child,

For I am weak and weary,

And helpless and defiled.

Tell me the old, old story,

Tell me the old, old story,

Tell me the old, old story,

Of Jesus and His love.

 Tell me the story slowly,

That I may take it in,

That wonderful redemption,

God's remedy for sin.

Tell me the story often,

For I forget so soon;

The early dew of morning

Has passed away at noon.

Tell me the story softly,

With earnest tones and grave;

Remember I'm the sinner

Whom Jesus came to save.

Tell me the story always,

If you would really be,

In any time of trouble,

A comforter to me.

Tell me the same old story

When you have cause to fear

That this world's empty glory

Is costing me too dear.

Yes, and when that world's glory

Is dawning on my soul,

Tell me the old, old story:

"Christ Jesus makes thee whole."

(Public Domain)