Sermon Preparation with the Bible in One Hand and the Hymnal in the Other

Karl Barth's pairing of the Bible and the newspaper is well known: "We should read the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other." True enough. But I would like to make a similar suggestion to my fellow preachers. Preachers should prepare with the Bible in one hand and with the hymnal in the other.

Let me explain what I mean. If you are a preacher and you do not use the texts of hymns (ancient or modern) to illustrate the truths you preach, you are failing to take advantage of an incredibly helpful and powerful means of illustration. Here are five reasons why incorporating hymn texts in your preaching can prove beneficial.

• Hymn texts, and especially familiar hymn texts, often have deep emotional roots in the hearts of believers, which makes them particularly effective (and memorable) for vividly illustrating a biblical truth. 

• Hymn texts are poetic in nature, and poetry can have a strong oratorical effect.

• Hymn texts, in and of themselves, teach us something theologically (sometimes good, sometimes bad). So, why not utilize the good ones to help teach our hearers the truth that they are singing, and how the truth in that song is based on the truth of God's Word? This helps connect the biblical and theological dots for them - both in the biblical text and in the hymn that they may have sung hundreds of times before but never really thought about until you pointed it out to them. 

• Hymn texts that are used well in a sermon illustration will be sung with much more understanding and appreciation the next time around. In other words, using that hymn text as an illustration makes that hymn even more meaningful for your hearers, which means you are helping strengthen and reinforce the importance of congregational singing (as well as the importance of singing good theology). 

• Hymn texts that are quoted in a sermon, when those hymns either have been sung or will be sung in the same worship service, unifies the worship experience and teaches the congregation something about the holistic nature of public worship.

His Blood Shall Over All Prevail

I love the last two lines of this stanza by Toplady:

The Sinner's Rest
Augustus Toplady, 1740-1778

Oh, that I now the voice might hear,
That speaks my sins forgiv'n;
His Word is past to give me here
The inward pledge of heav'n.
His blood shall over all prevail,
And sanctify the unclean;
The grace that saves from future hell,
Shall save from present sin.

A Bleeding Christ Is All They Plead

The God of Grace Delights to Hear
W.W. Horne

The God of grace delights to hear
The plaintive cry, the humble prayer;
Nor shall the weakest saint complain
That he has sought the Lord in vain.

With power to Jacob's seed He speaks;
His Word the heart asunder breaks;
While grace the rage of sin controls,
And deep repentance melts their souls.

"Seek ye my face," Jehovah cries;
With joy the contrite heart replies,
"Thy face I seek; with power descend,
From every foe my soul defend!"

A bleeding Christ is all they plead,
And all that guilty sinners need;
In whose dear name their fervent cries
Before the Lord like incense rise.

A Hymn for Afflicted and Doubting Hearts

Pensive, Doubting, Fearful Heart
John Newton, 1725-1807

Based on Isaiah 41:10, 14; 54:4-11

Pensive, doubting, fearful heart,
Hear what Christ the Savior says;
Every word should joy impart,
Change thy morning into praise.
Yes, he speaks, and speaks to thee,
May he help thee to believe;
Then thou presently wilt see
Thou hast little cause to grieve:

Fear thou not, nor be ashamed;
All thy sorrows soon shall end,
I, who heaven and earth have framed,
Am thy Husband and thy Friend;
I, the High and Holy One,
Israel's God by all adored,
As thy Savior will be known,
Thy Redeemer and thy Lord.

For a moment I withdrew,
And thy heart was filled with pain;
But my mercies I'll renew;
Thou shalt soon rejoice again;
Though I seem to hide my face,
Very soon my wrath shall cease;
'Tis but for a moment's space,
Ending in eternal peace.

Though afflicted, tempest-tossed,
Comfortless awhile thou art,
Do not think thou canst be lost,
Thou art graven on my heart;
All thy wastes I will repair;
Thou shalt be rebuilt anew;
And in thee it shall apear
What the God of love can do.

Rend Every Veil That Shades Thy Face

Chained to the World, To Sin Tied Down
Augustus Toplady, 1740-1778

Chained to the world, to sin tied down,
In darkness still I lie;
Lord, break my bonds, Lord, give me wings,
And teach me how to fly.

Instruct my feeble hands to war,
In me Thy strength reveal,
To put my every lust to death,
And fight Thy battles well.

Rend every veil that shades Thy face,
Put on Thine helmet, Lord;
My sin shall fall, my guilt expire,
Beneath Thy conquering sword.

Thou art the mighty God of hosts,
Whose counsels never fail;
Be Thou my glorious Chief, and then
I cannot but prevail.

Turn My Tears to Praise

Salvation, Oh, Melodious Sound
Phillip Doddridge, 1702-1751

Salvation, oh, melodious sound,
To wretched, dying men!
Salvation that from God proceeds,
And leads to God again.

Rescued from hell's eternal gloom,
From fiends, and fires, and chains;
Raised to a paradise of bliss,
Where love triumphant reigns.

But, oh, may a degenerate soul,
Sinful and weak as mine,
Presume to raise a trembling eye
To blessings so divine?

The luster of so bright a bliss
My feeble heart o'erbears;
And unbelief almost perverts
The promise into tears.

My Savior God, no voice but Thine
These dying hopes can raise;
Speak Thy salvation to my soul,
And turn its tears to praise.

My Savior God, this broken voice,
Transported shall proclaim;
And call on the angelic harps,
To sound so sweet a name.

Rise, the Woman's Conqu'ring Seed!

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing
Charles Wesley, 1707-1788; alt. George Whitefield, 1714-1770

Hark, the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled!
Joyful, all ye nations, rise,
Join the triumph of the skies;
With angelic host proclaim,
Christ is born in Bethlehem.
Hark! The herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King.

Christ, by highest heavn adored;
Christ, the everlasting Lord:
Late in time, behold Him come,
Offspring of a virgin's womb.
Veiled in flesh the Godhead see,
Hail th'incarnate Deity!
Pleased as man with men to dwell,
Jesus, our Immanuel.
Hark! The herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King.

Hail, the heav'n born Prince of Peace!
Hail, the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings,
Ris'n with healing in his wings.
Mild He lays His glory by,
Born that man no more may die,
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Born to give them second birth.
Hark! The herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King.

Come, Desire of nations, come,
Fix in us Thy humble home!
Rise, the Woman's conqu'ring Seed,
Bruise in us the Serpent's head!
Now display Thy saving power,
Ruined nature now restore;
Now in mystic union join
Thine to ours, and ours to Thine.
Hark! The herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King.

Adam's likeness, Lord, efface;
Stamp Thine image in its place;
Second Adam from above,
Reinstate us in Thy love!
Let us Thee, though lost, regain,
Thee, the Life, the Heavenly Man:
Oh, to all Thyself impart,
Formed in each believing heart!
Hark! The herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King.

A Hymn for All Saints' Day

For All the Saints
William How, 1823-1897

For all the saints, who from their labors rest,
Who Thee by faith before the world confessed,
Thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress and their Might;
Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well-fought fight;
Thou, in the darkness drear, their one true Light.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

O may Thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold,
Fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,
And win with them the victor's crown of gold.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
Steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
And hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
The saints triumphant rise in bright array;
The King of glory passes on His way.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast,
Through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
Singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost:
Alleluia, Alleluia!

A Hymn in Honor of Reformation Sunday

A Mighty Fortress Is Our God
Martin Luther, 1483-1546

A mighty fortress is our God,
A bulwark never failing;
Our Helper, He amid the flood
Of mortal ills prevailing.
For still our ancient foe
Doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and power are great,
And armed with cruel hate,
On earth is not his equal.

Did we in our own strength confide,
Our striving would be losing,
Were not the right Man on our side,
The Man of God's own choosing.
Dost ask who that may be?
Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth, His name;
From age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.

And though this world, with devils filled,
Should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed
His truth to triumph through us.
The Prince of Darkness grim,
We tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure,
For lo, his doom is sure;
One little word shall fell him.

That word above all earthly powers,
No thanks to them, abideth;
The Spirit and the gifts are ours,
Through Him who with us sideth.
Let goods and kindred go,
This mortal life also;
The body they may kill;
God's truth abideth still;
His kingdom is forever.

Sinners' Never Ceasing Praise

Sinners’ Never-Ceasing Praise
M. Justin Wainscott

O Christ, our true and living Head,
Our Savior and our God;
You suffered in the sinner’s stead,
And bought us with your blood.
What tribute fits this blood-bought grace,
But sinners’ never-ceasing praise?

Your precious blood has washed away
The stain of guilt and sin;
Now Satan’s left with naught to say,
And we have peace within.
What tribute fits this pard’ning grace,
But sinners’ never-ceasing praise?

Though holy wrath was once our dread,
Our punishment You bore;
Because Your sinless blood was shed,
God’s wrath we dread no more!
What tribute fits this matchless grace,
But sinners’ never-ceasing praise?

This saving act of Triune love,
Achieved by God the Son,
Gives substance to the songs above,
Sung to the Three in One.
What tribute fits this saving grace,
But sinners’ never-ceasing praise?

His Pardoning Voice I Hear

Arise, My Soul, Arise
Charles Wesley, 1707-1788

Arise, my soul, arise;
Shake off thy guilty fears;
The bleeding sacrifice
In my behalf appears:
Before the throne my surety stands,
Before the throne my surety stands,
My name is written on His hands.

Five bleeding wounds He bears;
Received on Calvary;
They pour effectual prayers;
They strongly plead for me:
“Forgive him, O forgive,” they cry,
“Forgive him, O forgive,” they cry,
“Nor let that ransomed sinner die!”

The Father hears Him pray,
His dear anointed One;
He cannot turn away,
The presence of His Son;
His Spirit answers to the blood,
His Spirit answers to the blood,
And tells me I am born of God.

My God is reconciled;
His pardoning voice I hear;
He owns me for His child;
I can no longer fear:
With confidence I now draw nigh,
With confidence I now draw nigh,
And “Father, Abba, Father,” cry.

O What Peace We Often Forfeit

What A Friend We Have in Jesus
Joseph Scriven, 1819-1886

What a Friend we have in Jesus,
All our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
Everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer.

Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged;
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness;
Take it to the Lord in prayer.

Are we weak and heavy laden,
Cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge,
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Do your friends despise, forsake you?
Take it to the Lord in prayer!
In His arms He’ll take and shield you;
You will find a solace there.

Blessed Savior, Thou hast promised
Thou wilt all our burdens bear
May we ever, Lord, be bringing
All to Thee in earnest prayer.
Soon in glory bright unclouded
There will be no need for prayer.
Rapture, praise and endless worship
Will be our sweet portion there.

A Conversion Hymn

I Once Was Dead in Sin and Strife
M. Justin Wainscott, 2008

I was once was dead in sin and strife,
And knew no will but mine;
But God has quickened me to life
By sovereign grace divine!

To base desires I was a slave,
And under their control;
But Jesus Christ is strong to save;
He freed my shackled soul!

Although my heart was hard as stone,
And vile with ev’ry beat;
For all my sins Christ has atoned.
In Him I stand complete!

My blinded eyes were shut by sin,
The dark my only sight;
But God, in mercy, opened them,
And flooded me with light!

My lifeless tongue was resting lame,
No words my mouth could bring;
Till on my lips God put His name,
And loosed my tongue to sing!

And sing I shall to Christ my King,
My Savior and my God;
Loud praises I will ever bring.
I’ll glory in His blood!

And when from earth I shall depart,
And when it’s time to die;
I’ll join the saints and sing my part
In songs of praise on high!

Pleading What My Lord Has Done

No More, My God
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748

No more, my God, I boast no more
Of all the duties I have done;
I quit the hopes I held before,
To trust the merits of Thy Son.

Now, for the love I bear His name,
What was my gain I count my loss;
My former pride I call my shame,
And nail my glory to His cross.

Yes, and I must and will esteem
All things but loss for Jesus’ sake:
O may my soul be found in Him,
And of His righteousness partake!

The best obedience of my hands
Dares not appear before Thy throne;
But faith can answer Thy demands
By pleading what my Lord has done.

I Saw One Hanging on a Tree

In Evil Long I Took Delight
John Newton, 1725-1807

In evil long I took delight,
Unaw'd by shame or fear,
Till a new object struck my sight,
And stopp'd my wild career.

I saw One hanging on a tree,
In agonies and blood,
Who fix'd His languid eyes on me,
As near His cross I stood.

Sure, never till my latest breath
Can I forget that look;
It seem'd to charge me with His death,
Though not a word He spoke.

My conscience felt, and own'd the guilt,
And plung'd me in despair;
I saw my sins His blood had spilt,
And help'd to nail Him there.

Alas! I knew not what I did;
But now my tears are vain;
Where shall my trembling soul be hid?
For I the Lord have slain.

A second look He gave, which said,
"I freely all forgive;
This blood is for thy ransom paid,
I die that thou mayst live."

Thus, while His death my sin displays
In all its blackest hue,
(Such is the mystery of grace,)
It seals my pardon too.

With pleasing grief and mournful joy
My spirit now is fill'd.
That I should such a life destroy,
Yet live by Him I kill'd.

My Soul Still Hangs Her Hopes on Thee

Dangers of Every Shape and Name
William Cowper, 1731-1800

Dangers of every shape and name
Attend the followers of the Lamb,
Who leave the world's deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.

O Lord, the pilot's part perform,
And guide and guard me through the storm;
Defend me from each threatening ill;
Control the waves; say, "Peace! Be still!"

Amidst the roaring of the sea,
My soul still hangs her hopes on Thee;
Thy constant love, Thy faithful care,
Is all that saves me from despair.

No Squishy Love (Part 2)

Timothy George has written a follow-up article, No Squishy Love (Part II), in response to all of the reactions from his previous First Things column, No Squishy Love, which was about the Presbyterian Church (USA)'s decision not to include "In Christ Alone" in its new hymnal.

I really did not intend to ignite a theological firestorm when I wrote my On the Square column, “No Squishy Love.” I simply pointed out that the committee preparing a new hymnal for the Presbyterian Church (USA) had voted to omit the much loved hymn “In Christ Alone,” because of its offending line, “Till on that cross as Jesus died / The wrath of God was satisfied.” I tried to place this decision in a wider historical context. But then “No Squishy Love” went viral, generating thousands of comments and spin-off articles not only on the Internet and in religious publications but also in USA Today, The Washington Post, and even The Economist! What’s going on here?

As a general rule, I do not respond to book reviews or blog chatter, but all this holy hullabaloo has prompted me to add a few comments to my original statement.

Read the entire article here. 

His Wounds Deserve Our Praise

Christ's Atoning Wounds
M. Justin Wainscott, © 2009

That sacred stream which ever flows,
Flows from the Savior's wounds,
Does in the souls of saints compose
Sweet, Christ-exalting tunes.

So let the saints in chorus flood
This place with songs of praise;
And sing of Christ's redeeming blood,
And marvel at His grace.

The precious wounds of Christ above -
His hands, His feet, His side -
Stand as a witness of His love
For us, His ransomed bride.

Those wounds which paid our sinful debt
Remove all grounds for pride;
For God's requirements all were met
When Christ our Savior died.

So let us boast in Him alone,
And in the wounds He bears;
Since He who sits on heaven's throne
Those sacred scars still wears.

And when before that throne we stand,
And on our Savior gaze;
We'll truly come to understand,
His wounds deserve our praise.

Saints, From Hence Your Comfort Draw

Hark! the Voice of Love and Mercy
Jonathan Evans, 1749-1809

Hark! the voice of love and mercy
Sounds aloud from Calvary;
See, it rends the rocks asunder,
Shakes the earth, and veils the sky:
“It is finished!” “It is finished!”
 Hear the dying Savior cry.

“It is finished!” O what pleasure
Do these precious words afford;
Heav’nly blessings, without measure,
Flow to us from Christ the Lord:
“It is finished!” “It is finished!"
 Saints the dying words record.

Finished all the types and shadows
Of the ceremonial law;
Finished all that God had promised;
Death and hell no more shall awe:
“It is finished!” “It is finished!”
 Saints, from hence your comfort draw.

Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs,
Join to sing the glorious theme;
All in earth, and all in heaven,
Join to praise Emmanuel’s Name;
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Glory to the bleeding Lamb!

Pride Lamented

Oft Have I Turned My Eyes Within
Samuel Stennett, 1727-1795

Oft have I turned my eyes within,
And brought to light some latent sin;
But pride, the vice I most detest,
Still lurks securely in my breast.

Here with a thousand arts she tries
To dress me in a fair disguise,
To make a guilty wretched worm
Put on an angel's brightest form.

She hides my follies from mine eyes,
And lifts my virtues to the skies;
And, while the specious tale she tells,
Her own deformity conceals.

Rend, O my God, the veil away,
Bring forth the monster to the day;
Expose her hideous form to view,
And all her restless power subdue.

So shall humility divine
Again possess this heart of mine,
And form a temple for my God,
Which He will make His loved abode.