Praise for the Lord #153
Words: Mary B. C. Slade, 1871
Music: Asa Brooks Everett, 1871
The author and composer of this hymn having been covered at length in two earlier posts, I will add just a little more here about the history and reception of this song, variously titled "Footsteps of Jesus" or "Footprints of Jesus" (the latter is the phrase actually used in the refrain, but the former is more commonly used as the title). Statistics from the Hymnary.org page for this text show that it has actually increased in average popularity over the years, appearing in 25% of the indexed hymnals from the late 20th century. In our current century it appears in the Baptist Hymnal (2008 edition), the Worship and Service Hymnal from Hope Publishing, The New National Baptist Hymnal, Rejoice Hymns (Fundamental Baptist), Celebrating Grace Hymnal (Baptist), and The Christian Life Hymnal (Hendrickson Publishing), to name a few.
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It first appeared, along with many other Slade-Everett songs, in
Good News (Boston: Oliver Ditson, 1876), edited by Rigdon McIntosh. It originally appeared with seven stanzas and a refrain:
Stanza 1:
Sweetly, Lord, have we heard Thee calling,
Come, follow Me!
And we see where Thy footprints falling,
Lead us to Thee.
Refrain:
Footprints of Jesus, that make the pathway glow;
We will follow the steps of Jesus wheree'er they go.
Stanza 2:
Though they lead o'er the cold dark mountains,
Seeking His sheep;
Or along by Siloam's fountains,
Helping the weak.
(Refrain)
Stanza 3:
If they lead through the temple holy,
Preaching the word;
Or in homes of the poor and lowly,
Serving the Lord.
(Refrain)
Stanza 4:
Though, dear Lord, in Thy pathway keeping,
We follow Thee;
Through the gloom of that place of weeping,
Gethsemane!
(Refrain)
Stanza 5:
If Thy way and its sorrows bearing,
We go again,
Up the slope of the hill-side, bearing
Our cross of pain.
(Refrain)
Stanza 6:
By and by, through the shining portals,
Turning our feet,
We shall walk with the glad immortals,
Heaven's golden streets.
(Refrain)
Stanza 7:
Then at last when on high He sees us,
Our journey done,
We will rest where the steps of Jesus
End at His throne.
(Refrain)
An abbreviated version appeared in McIntosh's next Sunday School publication,
New Life (Nashville: M.E. Church South, 1879), which used stanzas 1, 2, 3, 6, 7. The 4th and 5th stanzas have tended to be the most often omitted, and later hymnals have differed chiefly in whether they have the 6th or 7th as the final stanza, or use both. Southern Baptist collections began using stanzas 1, 2, 3, 7, with popular books such as
The Modern Hymnal (Nashville: Broadman, 1926) and
The Broadman Hymnal (Nashville: Broadman, 1940). This seems to have become the standard for Baptist publications and many others over time.
Among Churches of Christ, however, there was greater variation. Gospel Advocate Publishing's 1889 Christian Hymns, with Rigdon McIntosh as music editor, had a large number of Slade-Everett songs, including "Footsteps" with all seven of the original stanzas. Choice Gospel Hymns, from the same publisher in 1923, still carried all seven stanzas, but Greater Christian Hymns (1931) had reduced it to 1, 2, 3, 5, 7. The same reduced selection of stanzas was used in Christian Hymns (1935), the first of that series from Gospel Advocate edited by L. O. Sanderson. Christian Hymns #2 (1944) reduced the stanzas to 1, 2, and 7; but Christian Hymns III (1966) had a different selection, 1, 3, and 7. Songbooks from west of the Mississippi followed much the same pattern; one early Firm Foundation title, The New Gospel Songbook (Austin, Texas, 1914) has all seven original stanzas, but later editors cut it down to five. The numerous books published by Will Slater in Arkansas and Texas used stanzas 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, and Tillit Teddlie's early books Spiritual Melodies (Dallas, Texas, 1938) and Standard Gospel Songs (Sulphur Springs, Texas, 1944) use 1, 2, 3, 5, 7. Common to all of these so far is the retention of stanza 7 as the conclusion of the song, which would seem to be natural.
For reasons unclear, however, Elmer Jorgenson used stanzas 1, 2, 3, and 6 in his Great Songs of the Church (Louisville, Kentucky: Word and Work, 1921). The longevity and influence of the "old blue book" made this version widely known, and many later hymnal editors among the Churches of Christ followed suit. Firm Foundation's popular Majestic Hymnal: Number Two (1959) used this selection of stanzas, as did Tillit Teddlie's Great Christian Hymnal (1965). It was also used in the hugely successful Songs of the Church books by Alton Howard (1973-1977), and in the next generation of hymnals, Praise for the Lord (Praise Press, 1992) and Songs of Faith and Praise (Howard Publishing, 1994). There remain exceptions--the selection of stanzas 1, 2, 3, 6, 7 appears in Sacred Selections (1960) and in later songbooks by M. Lynwood Smith, and Dane K. Shepard's Hymns for Worship (1987) uses 1, 2, and 7 only. The majority of Churches of Christ, however, probably know this sing only with stanzas 1, 2, 3, and 6. It seems a little unusual to lose the final stanza of a song, but it happens. Now for the text itself.
Stanza 1:
Sweetly, Lord, have we heard Thee calling,
Come, follow Me!
And we see where Thy footprints falling,
Lead us to Thee.
The earliest "followers" of Jesus seem to be Andrew and another unnamed disciple of John the Baptizer, found in John 1:35-39.
The next day again John was standing with two of his disciples, and he looked at Jesus as He walked by and said, "Behold, the Lamb of God!" The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. Jesus turned and saw them following and said to them, "What are you seeking?" And they said to Him, "Rabbi" (which means Teacher), "where are you staying?" He said to them, "Come and you will see." So they came and saw where He was staying, and they stayed with Him that day, for it was about the tenth hour.
This was not the formal beginning of their discipleship, however, as we see from Matthew 4:18-22. Here, and in a few other passages, we are given a glimpse of the occasions when Jesus personally said the words quoted in the opening stanza of this song.
While walking by the Sea of Galilee, He saw two brothers, Simon (who is called Peter) and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. And He said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." Immediately they left their nets and followed Him. And going on from there He saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, in the boat with Zebedee their father, mending their nets, and He called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed Him.
Gracin & Budiselić note that would-be disciples usually sought out a rabbi and requested to join his circle (as a scribe asks of Jesus in Matthew 8:19). It was apparently unusual, and a considerable honor, to be recruited by the rabbi as Jesus did with the Twelve (218). Does this help explain their immediate response? Peter and Andrew had perhaps been considering it, but still, it was a major commitment to walk away from their livelihood. Shmuel Safrai, noted scholar of Jewish history, says that disciples of a rabbi typically practiced a trade, or raised support from family and friends (965). We do not read of Jesus or the Twelve working during the time of His ministry, though Luke 8:1-3 lists some women who gave them financial support. Whatever it was, was not much; Jesus was very like the "wandering sages" Safrai describes among the rabbis of ancient times, who along with their full-time disciples depended on local charity from town to town (966). The fact that the hungry disciples sometimes made a meal of raw grain gleaned along the road (Matthew 12:1) indicates that this was not always a certainty.
In the case of the fishermen, perhaps, they could return to the family business at some point in the future (as Peter does briefly in John 21). But in Mark 2:14 we read, "And as [Jesus] passed by, He saw Levi the son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax booth, and He said to him, "Follow me." And he rose and followed Him." Levi (known better to us as Matthew) walked away from a coveted government job, probably with no guarantee he could return, yet still with the social stigma associated with the work.
That call of "Come, follow Me," then, was serious, life-changing business. Safrai's comments on the rabbi-disciple relationship are worth quoting at length:
Learning by itself did not make a pupil, and he did not grasp the full significance of his teacher's learning in all its nuances except through prolonged intimacy with his teacher, through close association with his rich and profound mind. The disciples accompanied their sage as he went to teach, when he sat in the law court, when he was engaged in the performance of meritorious deeds such as helping the poor, redeeming slaves, collecting dowries for poor brides, burying the dead, etc. The pupil took his turn in preparing the common meal and catering for the general needs of the group. He performed personal services for his teacher, observed his conduct and was his respectful, loving, humble companion. Some laws could not be studied theoretically or merely discussed, but could only be learned by serving the teacher (964).
Book learning was a prerequisite, and part of the disciple's task was to commit his rabbi's teachings to memory; but it was just as important to learn how the rabbi lived out his teachings, and to imitate his example (Gracin & Budiselić 213). A man who remained unchanged by the experience was no disciple at all, but a dabbler. Certainly the Twelve were forever altered, as was impressed on the Jewish leaders in Acts 4:13 "Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated, common men, they were astonished. And they recognized that they had been with Jesus."
In looking back on the decades that have passed since I myself answered that call, "Come, follow Me," I have to ask: Have I made following His path the focal point of my life, to which all else is either a necessary support to this central aim, or an avocation? Have I gone beyond learning the facts of what He said and did, to practicing this Way and knowing it through application? Have I really changed, so that people who knew me at an earlier point can see that I have been following Jesus?
Refrain:
Footprints of Jesus, that make the pathway glow;
We will follow the steps of Jesus wheree'er they go.
The last words of the refrain introduce the theme Slade develops through the remainder of the stanzas. If we say we will follow the footsteps of Jesus "wheree'er they go," where might we end up? We have before us a simple song for children, but a deep and serious subject for adults. Matthew 8:19-20 tells us of one person who made this promise and was cautioned to think about it:
And a scribe came up and said to Him, "Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go." And Jesus said to him, "Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head."
That was an understatement of what Jesus' true disciples went through during His ministry. Over those three years the Twelve would follow Jesus in poverty, through increasing opposition from their society's leaders, and in one case right to the foot of the Teacher's cross. James was the first to be martyred, and according to tradition all but his brother John would follow him in turn. In the intervening time, as Paul recorded of his fellow Apostles,
We hunger and thirst, we are poorly dressed and buffeted and homeless, and we labor, working with our own hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we entreat. We have become, and are still, like the scum of the world, the refuse of all things (1 Corinthians 4:11-13 )
But as Peter said, as if in counterpoint:
For what credit is it if, when you sin and are beaten for it, you endure? But if when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in His steps (1 Peter 2:20-21)
At the same time we should never lose sight of why this path is so worth following, and what it is that "makes the pathway glow"--"I am the Light of the World. Whoever follows Me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life" (John 8:12). We follow these footsteps because, however hard the way may be, they are the only way that leads to eternal life. Are we ready for where the footsteps of Jesus will lead us?
Though they lead o'er the cold dark mountains,
Seeking His sheep;
Or along by Siloam's fountains,
Helping the weak.
(Refrain)
The first two lines refer of course to the parable of the lost sheep, found in Matthew 18 and in Luke 15.
What do you think? If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly, I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. So it is not the will of my Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish (Mathew 18:12-14 ).
Back of this was a common understanding of the shepherd's relationship to the flock. This was not industrial animal husbandry; it was a family business, with generations of shepherds and generations of sheep living in interdependence. The sheep were identified not by number but by name, as we read in another passage where Jesus used this metaphor:
Truly, truly, I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door but climbs in by another way, that man is a thief and a robber. But he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the gatekeeper opens. The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers (John 10:1-5).
He continued the metaphor by drawing comparisons to the shepherd's commitment to the welfare of the sheep. The shepherd did not see them merely as assets that could be written off, but as individuals for which he was responsible. The passage reminds us of young David's defense of his flock, even against deadly predators (1 Samuel 17).
I am the Good Shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd, who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. I am the Good Shepherd. I know My own and My own know Me, just as the Father knows Me and I know the Father; and I lay down My life for the sheep (John 10:11-15).
Much of this applies to Jesus in a unique way, of course. You and I are not called on to lay down our lives for the lost sheep in the way that He knew He would; we could never have filled that role. But the followers of Jesus still have a responsibility to His sheep. Jesus prepared Peter for this in that memorable final chapter of John's gospel:
When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these?" He said to Him, "Yes, Lord; You know that I love You." He said to him, "Feed My lambs." He said to him a second time, "Simon, son of John, do you love Me?" He said to Him, "Yes, Lord; You know that I love You." He said to him, "Tend My sheep." He said to him the third time, "Simon, son of John, do you love Me?" Peter was grieved because He said to him the third time, "Do you love Me?" and he said to Him, "Lord, You know everything; You know that I love You." Jesus said to him, "Feed My sheep" (John 21:15-17).
Though there was a special shepherding role for apostles (and in our time, for church elders), the point should not be lost on all the rest of us: one proof of our love for Jesus is to love His sheep, both the found ones and the lost ones. In Mark 9:36 we get this stirring insight into the mind and heart of Jesus :
"When He saw the crowds, He had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd." Our world is full of people just like them; may we learn to see them with compassion, as Jesus did, and help them find their way.
The second half of the stanza tightens the focus to show Jesus in the action of reaching out to His lost sheep through the healing of physical infirmities. The relief of suffering was a positive good, but also became an opportunity to uncover deeper problems of a spiritual nature (often found in the onlooking critics, rather than the sick person). It was certainly the case in John 9, where "Siloam's fountains" direct our attention:
As [Jesus] passed by, He saw a man blind from birth. And His disciples asked Him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Jesus answered, "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him. We must work the works of Him who sent Me while it is day; night is coming, when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the Light of the World." Having said these things, He spit on the ground and made mud with the saliva. Then He anointed the man's eyes with the mud and said to him, "Go, wash in the pool of Siloam" (which means Sent). So he went and washed and came back seeing (John 9:1-7).
The disciples were not at their best here, appearing to see only a question for debate rather than a man in need. The Pharisees who examined his case after he was healed were even worse, accusing him of lying because they dared not admit that Jesus had actually done this. Even his own parents were cowed into inaction by their fear of offending their religious leaders. Jesus alone saw what was important--not how the man got into his situation, but how God could be glorified through his situation by helping him get onto a better path in life.
This stanza's mention of "helping the weak" also calls to mind another healing connected with a pool in Jerusalem:
Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, in Aramaic called Bethesda, which has five roofed colonnades. In these lay a multitude of invalids--blind, lame, and paralyzed. ... One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, He said to him, "Do you want to be healed?" The sick man answered Him, "Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me." Jesus said to him, "Get up, take up your bed, and walk." And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked (John 5:2-9).
John continues, "Now that day was the Sabbath," and students of the life of Christ need not be told what happened next. Once again the critics of Jesus were more concerned about the technicalities of Sabbath law (and their traditions) than about a man whose ability to work and supply his own needs had been restored. But Jesus saw the person behind the problem, even before healing him, as we see again in His interaction with a leper:
When [Jesus] came down from the mountain, great crowds followed Him. And behold, a leper came to Him and knelt before Him, saying, "Lord, if You will, You can make me clean." And Jesus stretched out His hand and touched him, saying, "I will; be clean." And immediately his leprosy was cleansed (Matthew 8:1-3).
In response to the leper's sweet, humble statement of faith, Jesus did what most dared not to do--He reached out His hand and touched him. If the common person was afraid of coming in contact with the uncleanness of leprosy, how much more should a rabbi avoid it? But Jesus stepped past the barriers that tradition and society had made between the community and people in such desperate need. He did it again with an unnamed woman in the following chapter:
And behold, a woman who had suffered from a discharge of blood for twelve years came up behind Him and touched the fringe of His garment, for she said to herself, "If I only touch His garment, I will be made well." Jesus turned, and seeing her He said, "Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well." And instantly the woman was made well (Matthew 9:20-22).
For a woman to approach a rabbi and touch him in this way was shocking, and was compounded by the even greater taboo associated with her condition. With any another rabbi it certainly could have resulted in a humiliating spectacle; but instead Jesus responds in words of tender compassion and reassurance. He tells her to "take heart" and calls her "daughter," accepting her into His presence. Instead of rebuking her, He praises her faith; imperfect as it may have been, it was enough.
Following the footsteps of Jesus may lead us into situations we would rather not have to see, and places we would rather not go. It may challenge our ability to relate to people who have followed a different path and come to a dead end. Will the followers of Jesus reach out to those whose lives have fallen apart and give them hope? Will we look first for how to help, rather than where to cast blame? Will we reach across the barriers that divide people, and help them with kind words and a gentle touch? It would have been far easier for Jesus to have walked past these situations. It would have been easiest, of course, for Him never to have come to this fallen world in the first place.
Stanza 3:
If they lead through the temple holy,
Preaching the word;
Or in homes of the poor and lowly,
Serving the Lord.
(Refrain)
On His first trip to a feast in Jerusalem, the twelve-year-old Jesus stayed behind and got separated from His family, who finally found Him where they should have looked first--in the temple, discussing the Scriptures with the rabbis who held their schools there (Luke 2:41-52). It was a sweet and memorable scene--and also the last time He got a favorable reception from the temple leadership.
The week of the Crucifixion was more typical, starting off with a sound thrashing of the crooked money-changers who made merchandise of the worship of God:
And Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple, and He overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. He said to them, "It is written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer,' but you make it a den of robbers." And the blind and the lame came to Him in the temple, and He healed them (Matthew 21:12-14).
It is tempting to take this as an invitation to indulge in righteous indignation, but we should respect the unique nature of Jesus' relationship to the temple. He of all men on earth had the authority to say what should go on in that house, and He set it to rights by throwing out the profiteers and returning it to its proper function as a place of worship, healing, and learning. We can however imitate His respect for the house of God--the spiritual temple of His church (Ephesians 2:19-21)--and for its holy purposes of worship, teaching, and charity.
The power of Jesus' preaching could not help but provoke a reaction. On the part of the innocent children, it was "Hosanna to the Son of David!" (Matthew 21:15); on the part of the religious leadership, it was "By what authority are You doing these things? (Matthew 21:23). This is one of the times when these opponents of Jesus, who so often engaged with Him in bad faith to catch Him in His words, were actually asking a relevant, important question. If we would follow the example of Jesus' teaching, we will respect the same standard of authority for that teaching that He presented: "The words that I say to you I do not speak on My own authority, but the Father who dwells in Me does His works" (John 14:10b).
We can also learn from Jesus' teaching in the temple that presenting the truth will sometimes result in strong opposition. Though the common people "heard Him gladly" (Mark 12:37), His opposition came in waves that day to try to show Him up or trap Him in some statement they could use against Him. The Pharisees had their go at Him, then the Herodians, then the Sadducees; and each in turn was confounded by the power of His answers. At the end, "no one was able to answer Him a word, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask Him any more questions" (Matthew 22:46).
There is great satisfaction in reading of how Jesus shut down His detractors, and if one is called on to deal with such situations, He sets the ultimate example--His answers were calm, well-reasoned, and clear, and He refused to stoop to name-calling or pettiness. If the truth, presented reasonably and kindly, must answer opposition, let it be in this manner. But Jesus did not come to win arguments with these hard-hearted opponents; He came "to seek and to save the lost" (Luke 19:10). In this midst of this whirlwind of mean-spirited challenges, we also read of an honest questioner whom Jesus heard out and pointed in the right direction:
And one of the scribes came up and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that He answered them well, asked Him, "Which commandment is the most important of all?" Jesus answered, "The most important is, 'Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.' The second is this: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no other commandment greater than these." And the scribe said to Him, "You are right, Teacher. You have truly said that He is one, and there is no other besides Him. And to love Him with all the heart and with all the understanding and with all the strength, and to love one's neighbor as oneself, is much more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices." And when Jesus saw that he answered wisely, he said to Him, "You are not far from the kingdom of God" (Mark 12:28-34a)
It was this man who could be reached, and Jesus focused on him for the moment that he needed. Let us be sure that winning arguments does not become our focus to the detriment of reaching out with the positive message of God's love and grace.
The second half of the stanza turns once again to the good works that accompanied Jesus' good teaching. His presence graced the homes of the "poor and lowly", for healing, teaching, and fellowship far more often than those of the rich and important. In fact His visits to the homes of the latter sort usually turned out awkwardly:
One of the Pharisees asked Him to eat with him, and He went into the Pharisee's house and reclined at table. And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that He was reclining at table in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind Him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet His feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed His feet and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee who had invited Him saw this, he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner." And Jesus answering said to him, "Simon, I have something to say to you." And he answered, "Say it, Teacher."
Perhaps the Pharisee had hoped to engage Jesus in some religious discussion, but it was about to become much more personal than he had imagined!
"A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?" Simon answered, "The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt." And He said to him, "You have judged rightly." Then turning toward the woman he said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave Me no water for My feet, but she has wet My feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave Me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss My feet. You did not anoint My head with oil, but she has anointed My feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven--for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little" (Luke 7:36-47).
We can also see that Jesus was not treated with as much respect as might have been expected for a visitor, much less a visiting rabbi. Another such invitation seems to have been a setup from the beginning:
One Sabbath, when He went to dine at the house of a ruler of the Pharisees, they were watching Him carefully. And behold, there was a man before Him who had dropsy. And Jesus responded to the lawyers and Pharisees, saying, "Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath, or not?" But they remained silent. Then He took him and healed him and sent him away. And He said to them, "Which of you, having a son or an ox that has fallen into a well on a Sabbath day, will not immediately pull him out?" And they could not reply to these things." (Luke 14:1-6)
How much more easily did Jesus interact with the "poor and lowly"! Perhaps it was known that He began His earthly sojourn in a feed trough; certainly it was known that He was a "self-taught" Rabbi from a working-class background, whose companions were "uneducated, common men" (Acts 4:13). He was dependent on charity for His room and board when He could get it, and He seems to have had no possessions beyond what a man might carry on his person. Above all He was "lowly in heart" (Matthew 11:29) and treated the common people with dignity and respect; though He frankly acknowledged the past character of the woman before Him in the Pharisee's house, He also praised her repentance and current spiritual state before one of the leading men of the community. How her heart must have been lightened of its weight of guilt, and her head held a little higher with this restoration of dignity, as she made her way home!
Jesus' willingness to enter the homes of the outcast began early in His ministry with the calling of Matthew, which also illustrated the discomfort this created for the religious community around Him:
After this He went out and saw a tax collector named Levi, sitting at the tax booth. And He said to him, "Follow me." And leaving everything, he rose and followed Him. And Levi made him a great feast in his house, and there was a large company of tax collectors and others reclining at table with them. And the Pharisees and their scribes grumbled at His disciples, saying, "Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?" And Jesus answered them, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance" (Luke 5:27-32 ).
Jesus did not only wait for people to come hear Him teach; if opportunity presented itself, He went to them where they were. Matthew, because of his association with the Roman occupation, was a pariah to the Pharisees. Naturally his friends were of the same sort as himself. It was an odd group for a Rabbi to sit down with; but how long had it been, for many of them, since they had heard any spiritual teaching? And who needed it more than these? Jesus is even more explicit in His handling of a similar situation with another tax collector:
[Jesus] entered Jericho and was passing through. And behold, there was a man named Zacchaeus. He was a chief tax collector and was rich. And he was seeking to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was small in stature. So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see Him, for He was about to pass that way. And when Jesus came to the place, He looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today." So he hurried and came down and received Him joyfully. And when they saw it, they all grumbled, "He has gone in to be the guest of a man who is a sinner." And Zacchaeus stood and said to the Lord, "Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold." And Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost."" (Luke 19:1-10)
Here was a man who was willing not only to welcome Jesus into his home, but into his life and his heart. He was far closer to the kingdom than those who criticized Jesus for associating with him.
In the fourth chapter of John's gospel, Jesus also reached across social barriers of race and gender--at the same time. Intersectionality existed, of course, long before it was recognized as a term.
A woman from Samaria came to draw water. Jesus said to her, "Give me a drink." (For His disciples had gone away into the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to Him, "How is it that You, a Jew, ask for a drink from me, a woman of Samaria?" (For Jews have no dealings with Samaritans) (John 4:7-9).
The woman is shocked that a Jewish man would, first, recognize and speak to a Samaritan on purpose, and second, recognize and speak to a woman on purpose (at least one not of His own family). As the conversation continues, we learn that she had another strike against her in the ledgers of social acceptability--her history of illicit relationships. A rabbi could hardly be expected even to look at this woman; but Jesus engages her in a light-hearted conversation that quickly turns to the deepest spiritual questions. The end result showed that this Samaritan community was more receptive of Jesus than were the spiritual leaders of the Jews.
Many Samaritans from that town believed in Him because of the woman's testimony, "He told me all that I ever did." So when the Samaritans came to Him, they asked Him to stay with them, and He stayed there two days (John 4:39-40).
All this because Jesus was willing to ignore the barriers set up by society (rather than by God), and to look past this person's sinful background to see the truly lovely person she really was. It is also a reasonable assumption that Jesus dined and spent the night in a Samaritan home. If that was not horror enough to His Pharisee opposition, we can see from another incident that He was willing to go even further:
Now a centurion had a servant who was sick and at the point of death, who was highly valued by him. When the centurion heard about Jesus, he sent to him elders of the Jews, asking him to come and heal his servant. And when they came to Jesus, they pleaded with him earnestly, saying, "He is worthy to have you do this for him, for he loves our nation, and he is the one who built us our synagogue." And Jesus went with them. When he was not far from the house, the centurion sent friends, saying to him, "Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof" (Luke 7:2-6).
The centurion's message continued with a statement of faith that was perhaps limited in understanding, but overflowing with humble submission. Jesus took this as an opportunity to demonstrate both His power to heal and the power of such self-sacrificing faith; But had Jesus not been stopped by the centurion's message, would He not have gone into the home of a gentile, and a Roman soldier of the occupying army?
Even when there were not such high stakes, the presence of Jesus was a blessing to any home. In the home of Peter He brought healing to His disciple's mother-in-law (Matthew 8:14-15). We also think especially of the home of Lazarus, Mary, and Martha in Bethany, where Jesus sometimes retreated from the hostility He faced in Jerusalem. Martha, of course, was one of those invaluable people who is good at organizing things, and on one occasion chided her sister for not helping her with all the preparations she thought were necessary to host their Visitor. But Jesus gently corrected her; the time spent with Him and His teaching was more important by far (Luke 10:38-42). Let us make sure that the spirit of Christ and the desire to follow Him is the guiding principle of our own homes, and let us bring His gracious presence to any home we visit by showing His compassion and concern.
Stanzas 4 & 5
Though, dear Lord, in Thy pathway keeping,
We follow Thee;
Through the gloom of that place of weeping,
Gethsemane!
(Refrain)
If Thy way and its sorrows bearing,
We go again,
Up the slope of the hill-side, bearing
Our cross of pain.
(Refrain)
In these "lost stanzas" (as far as current use goes), Mrs. Slade turns from Christ's interactions with others to His suffering and death. Following Jesus has already been shown to require a change in our attitudes toward others and our obligations toward them; now it will require ourselves as well. In Mark 10:32, at the beginning of His determined march toward Jerusalem and His death, Jesus warned the Twelve again what was about to happen; "and those who followed were afraid."
Following Jesus to Gethsemane that night must have been a strange journey. Surely some of the disciples might have questioned to themselves whether going into an isolated outdoor setting was the wisest thing to do, considering the plots being made against Jesus' life. And though they had been there before for periods of prayer, nothing could have prepared them for what they saw in Jesus that night.
And He took with Him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled. And He said to them, "My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch." And going a little farther, He fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from Him (Mark 14:33-35).
It is not easy to witness someone going through deep grief, and Peter, James, and John were not able to keep watch with Jesus that night; Luke tells us that they were "sleeping for sorrow" at the end (Luke 22:45). In their defense, we do not know how long Jesus was there; it was at least an hour (Mark 14:37) and probably longer. We might also consider that hours in Gethsemane, then and now, pass by much more slowly. It is a comfort to know, when we go through our own versions of Gethsemane--those endless hours of uncertainty, grief, or despair that can accompany a crisis in one's life--that Jesus has been there too. But how often one longs for another person to there during these hours! It is a blessing to be able to provide that comfort too. Yet that also comes with a cost; waiting with a person in Gethsemane, helping to share their burden, is not easy work.
There was fear as well as grief that night, and for most of the Twelve their following of Jesus came to an end temporarily. Simon Peter, of course, denied any fear or weakness. At the Last Supper, he had declared again his willingness even to die for Jesus' sake (John 13:37). The events that actually transpired, however, proved too much for his bravado. When the disciples reached Gethsemane, Jesus warned, "Pray that you may not enter into temptation" (Luke 22:40), and rightly so; before the night was over, Peter's willingness to follow Jesus was reduced to "following Him at a distance" (Matthew 26:58). Peter followed closely enough to keep Jesus in sight, but not closely enough that he might be mistaken for a disciple. That kind of following, unfortunately, is all too common even today. In fact, other than the apostle John (John 19:26). it was the women among Jesus' followers who stayed with Him all the way to the Cross (Matthew 27:55-56).
Peter stated his willingness to die for Jesus, and no doubt he was sincere, as at least one of the high priest's servants could attest (John 18:10). But Jesus called on him instead to do something that was in this case more difficult--to live for Him. Peter's larger-than-life personality was strangely matched with a fear of mockery, as he showed in the courtyard of the high priest later that night. But though he still had his stumbles (cf. Galatians 2:11-13), Peter eventually rose to the challenge and became a bold proclaimer of the gospel. The standard Jesus set was this: "If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it" (Matthew 16:24-25). Peter's original goal of a glorious last stand in Gethsemane was serving his own ideas and led to humiliation; when he put self aside and took up the cross of patience and obedience he became truly great.
Stanzas 6 & 7:
By and by, through the shining portals,
Turning our feet,
We shall walk with the glad immortals,
Heaven's golden streets.
(Refrain)
Then at last when on high He sees us,
Our journey done,
We will rest where the steps of Jesus
End at His throne.
(Refrain)
In the preceding stanzas, Mary Slade's lyrics have explored some of the applications of the principle Jesus stated so succinctly in John 12:26, "If anyone serves Me, he must follow Me; and where I am, there will My servant be also." In these final two stanzas, we see the final and happiest outcome of following Jesus, as we consider the end of the journey. As Jesus said to His fearful disciples on the night of His betrayal,
"Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also" (John 14:1-3).
The follower of Jesus is likely to pass through a lot of different terrain on the journey, and to encounter many people and situations, some encouraging, some difficult, but all providing an opportunity to imitate our Lord and grow more like Him. When we are perplexed and discourage, let us remember His next words to the hesitant disciple Thomas:
Thomas said to Him, "Lord, we do not know where You are going. How can we know the way?" Jesus said to him, "I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me" (John 14:5-6).
Even when we have difficulty seeing the path ahead of us, as long as we keep Jesus in view, we can walk in His steps and find our way.
About the music:
When evaluating this music, it is important to remember for whom it was composed: Sunday School children. Asa Brooks Everett was a capable composer of sacred choral music, as evidenced by his anthems, and also a fairly successful writer of popular parlor songs that remained in print for several years. He had also worked for years with his brothers in teaching vocal music to both adults and children, and had clear ideas of what he wanted to write for each. For children, the goal was to write within their developing capabilities, while offering them interesting melodies of good quality. Fortunately for following generations, this style also adapts well to the average congregational singer, especially when sung acappella.
The melody begins with a simple scale movement moving from MI to RE and then DO, but rather suddenly leaps up a major 6th (from "heard" to "Thee" in the first stanza). This is the first skip in the melody, and perhaps its most memorable feature. After reaching this highest note of the tune, the next phrase ("Come, follow Me") descends through the notes of the tonic chord (SOL-MI-DO). The rhythm plays a part in contrasting these phrases as well; the first moves along primarily in quarter notes with a steady pace, then "Come, follow Me" is in a more arresting "long-short-short-long" rhythm. For the first stanza at least, it suggests the steady footsteps of the follower followed by the commanding tones of Christ to His disciples. The third and fourth phrases ("And we see... Lead us to Thee") parallel the first two; the third phrase in fact is identical to the first, and the fourth differs only in pitch in order to bring the musical period to a close on the keynote.
The refrain begins by returning to the high note reached in the 1st and 3rd phrases of the stanza, by the same leap of a major 6th. The rhythm of the fist two phrases ("Footprints of Jesus / That make the pathway glow") is a reversal of that found in the stanza, however; the long-short-short-long rhythm is in the first phrase, while the marching quarter notes are in the second phrase. The 3rd and 4th phrases of the refrain are of course the same as those of the stanza. Overall, then the stanza and chorus together make a double period of four sections, a a' b a'.
The harmony is notably simple. There is not a single accidental in sight, and the chords are the common tonic (E-flat), subdominant (A-flat), and dominant (B-flat) except for a lone submediant (C minor) at the beginning of the 4th phase of the stanza ("LEAD us to Thee"). Everett avoided the sometimes excessive chromaticism of the gospel song style in general, choosing instead a simple, folk-like approach with a strong, singable melody supported by simple, logical harmony. It is a style of writing worth imitation!
p.s. As much as I like Everett's writing in general, I would be remiss if I did not mention the alto part in this song. It consists almost exclusively of a single note, E-flat, relieved by a change to D exactly four times, once every other phrase. Here the altos pay the price for relatively interesting parts in the other voices. I suggest that this is in fact the Most Boring Alto Part Ever Written, and I invite the reader to name another if it is not.
References:
Gracin, Martina, and Ervin Budiselić. “Razumijevanje Učeništva u Kontekstu Židovstva Isusova Vremena - 1. Dio. = Discipleship in the Context of Judaism in Jesus' Time - Part I." Kairos: Evangelical Journal of Theology, vol. 13, no. 2, July 2019, pp. 207–226. EBSCOhost, https://doi-org.ezproxy.tcu.edu/10.32862/k1.13.2.3.
Safrai, Shmuel. "Education and the study of the Torah." The Jewish people in the first century: historical geography, political history, social, cultural and religious life and institutions, ed. Shmuel Safrai and Menahem Stern. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1974.
As an alto who dislikes the "drone" part of this song, I have to say that at least it would be a good one to learn on!
ReplyDeleteTis the Blessed Hour of Prayer by Crosby/Doane is a close second. It does have 4 notes instead of 2 but the ratio of e-flats to the other notes is higher. Very interesting information on Mary Slade!
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