I love old church hymns. I enjoy contemporary worship too but hymns are special. They have a way of expressing things to our Lord that music today just can't. It's eloquent and beautiful and classic.
Edward Mote wrote a song in the 1800's that I just love but didn't learn to appreciate until now. Edward was a pastor in London and was so beloved by his parish that they offered him the church building as a gift. Edward refused saying, "I do not want the chapel, just the pulpit; and when I cease to preach Christ, then turn me out of that." Edward's parents owned and managed a pub, which left Edward to fend for himself most of the time. He was a cabinet maker by trade, but later became a pastor.
Edward wrote this song in two days. One week later he ran into a parish member who asked Pastor Mote to visit his dying wife. It was common to sing a hymn, pray and read a portion of the Bible to those he visited but a hymn book was no where to be found. He had a few verses of this song he wrote tucked in his pocket. He hadn't composed any music to them but he offered to sing them anyhow. The wife enjoyed them so much she requested that the Pastor leave a copy of the verses with her. So captivated with how touched the woman was by these verses he took it upon himself to send an anonymous copy to a magazine. The song was later published in a hymnal and credited to various others, none of them correct. It wasn't until later that it was discovered that Edward Mote was the correct and true author of these beautiful lyrics.
It's a popular song, and most who've attended church have probably heard it. It's words are more true to me today than ever before. I cling to the only hope I know, the Solid Rock that has never let me sink. I sing this song to myself all day as a reminder that I have hope; hope that is built on a solid foundation of love, blood, and righteousness and that when darkness veils its face, I will throw my anchor into the grace of my Lord and cling tight.
My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus' name.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
His oath, His covenant, and blood
Support me in the whelming flood;
When every earthly prop gives way,
He then is all my Hope and Stay.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh, may I then in Him be found,
Clothed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne!
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
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