At the risk of sounding like a curmudgeon, I have to say that sometimes I miss the old hymns in our worship. I do not miss how the hymns were executed, but I do miss the lyrics.

Let me explain.

Often, the singing in the churches of my youth made funeral dirges seem celebratory by comparison. It is no wonder that the 3rd stanza was often skipped. Because of the slow pace and the lack of vitality, shortening the process was an act of mercy.

That is not what I miss.

What I miss is the well-thought-out lyrics that often speak to me in a time of need.

Recently, I was working through a difficulty and a stanza from How Firm a Foundation came to mind:

When through fiery trials your pathway shall lie
my grace all sufficient shall be thy supply
the flame shall not hurt thee I only design
thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine

OK, I could do without the King James English and it would be beneficial to freshen up the pronouns to make it more contemporary. But whatever form of English we use, the spiritual meat-and-potatoes nature of the lyric shines through. I was encouraged by the words of the song.

I have heard some of my favorite hymns recorded by artists such as Chris Rice and Fernando Ortega. You can listen to Fernando’s rendition of How Firm a Foundation on YouTube. So more contemporary settings for these lyrics can be worked out.

I would encourage any worship leaders who read this blog to examine the lyrics of the old hymns and see if they do not greatly encourage you. Find new melodies or new instrumental arrangements for those precious lyrics and share them with your congregations.

The old hymns have stood the test of time because they continue to offer something of value to those who sing them or listen to them.

It might take a little effort to find that value, but it is worth it.

I recently read a devotional article where the author expressed his reluctance to sing certain hymns and songs which express thoughts which are not true for him. He cited the hymn, “Jesus I am Resting” as one that prompts such hesitation.

Reflection on this made me see a distinction between singing about what is actually true in the moment and what I aspire to be true. The distinction is between what is actual and what is aspirational (my spell checker does not recognize this as a word but we will run with it).

Who among us lives up to what we want to be true of us? Who among us is qualified to sing the great Christian songs that speak of victory and complete surrender?

Should we hold back from singing “How Great Thou Art” because we are wrestling with God over a lingering illness?  Should we banish “It is Well With My Soul” because we are often troubled and distracted even while we sing it? Can we sing “He Keeps Me Singing” when we’re not feeling particularly joyous? We all fall short of the ideal that is portrayed in these songs..

I do see value in singing such songs to remind us that there is a God great enough to handle our doubts and fears. There is value in acknowledging that even while I am in emotional disarray, there is a God who can bring wellness to a troubled soul. There is value in singing a song that reminds me that joy is not dependent upon my circumstances and current emotional state.

It is not as if we are trying to fool God into thinking better of us than we deserve. He already knows our failures and knows our doubts and knows our struggles.

So while what we are singing may not describe what is actually true of us in the moment, it can be an accurate description of our desire. Our voice can express what is aspirational even though it may not be wholly or even partially true in the moment.

So, sing on. Sing loudly. Make a joyful noise (Tweet This).

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.”” (Matthew 22:37–40, ESV)

It is one thing to agree that the Two Great Commands should be operative in my life, it is entirely another for them to actually be operative. It is one thing to give assent to these commands, it is another thing to put them into action.

I thought about this during worship this morning (I’m writing on Sunday night). In our hymns and songs, we sometimes sing songs that are more aspirational than actual. In other words, we sing of things as we would like them to be but are not currently there.

I have a similar response to the two great commands. I give assent to them being true and right. I aspire to put them into practice, but I fall short on implementing both of the commands. I want to love God with my entire being, but too many things distract me from carrying through on it. I agree that I ought to love God that way but fail to put action to my inclination. I am resigned to the fact that I will never be whole-hearted in my devotion to God. I want to be, I seek to be, I try to be, but I fall short.

This is why I am glad that God saw fit to include Romans 7 in the Bible. I am glad because I find that I am in good company when I face my inability to carry out the commands. It turns out that the Apostle Paul shared this struggle with me. This fellowship gives at least partial comfort.

But like Paul, I can cling to the words in Romans 8:1, which tell me that even in my failure I am not condemned by God if I am in Christ Jesus.

For now, I will continue to have a gap between my assent and my action, but it will not always be so.

One day, Jesus will return or I will go to meet him and all will be put to right. The gap will be eliminated. Assent and action will be simultaneous.

What a relief that will be.

Last week I was challenged by a church planter who said, “we need to have a theology of conversion along with a theology of compassion.”

This statement struck a cord with me.

Jesus clearly articulated a theology of conversion. Matthew records Jesus as beginning his ministry with the statement, “Repent for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand” (Matthew 4:17). Repentance is a key component to conversion.

We also see Jesus, all throughout the Gospels, living a life of compassion. Jesus met the physical and spiritual needs of those he encountered in his mission on Earth. A statement such as “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28) demonstrates Jesus’ sense of compassion.

Without the theology of compassion, it is unlikely that non-believers will be willing to hear our theology of conversion. Jesus met the obvious need while pointing to the greater need. The greater need being a restored relationship with God. For example, in John 4:7-15, Jesus turned a conversation about water (an essential need) into a conversation about eternal life.

To live out a theology of compassion without pointing to the need for conversion provides short term relief but ignores the eternal.  If Jesus is who he said he is and if what he said about eternity is correct, then the stakes are very high and the eternal destiny of of those to whom we minister should weigh heavily in how we minister.

Both the theology of compassion and the theology of conversion must be operational for effective ministry to take place (Tweet This).