  The note of praise was sounded at the very beginning of the 75th annual convention of the New York State Council of Religious Education, which was held in Utica, N. Y., October, 1930. The assembled delegates, whose interest centered in directing the religious life of the young people in the churches and communities of the state, lifted up their voices in singing what was once characterized by Dr. J. M. Buckley as the “most perfect hymn in thanksgiving in the English language:” “For the beauty of the earth, For the glory of the skies, For the love which from our birth Over and around us lies: Lord of all, to Thee we raise This our hymn of grateful praise.”
Two Statesmen Sang “America” in Washington’s PewThe American nation was called to supplication for Divine guidance on the first day of 1942. The date was historic, for the nation was entering on a New Year with the dark shadows of war resting on the people. One of the events of that day was recorded on the front page of practically all our newspapers. Winston Churchill, Prime Minister of Great Britain, was at that time visiting the United States for the purpose of conferring with President F. D. Roosevelt. The latter took his guest with him to the quaint Episcopal Church at Alexandria, Va., of which George Washington was, in 1775, one of the founders. Together they occupied the white pew in which Washington used to worship. Each of the two statesmen loved to sing, hence both of them united with the congregation when they sang: “My country, ’tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing.” Perhaps each responsible statesman, burdened with anxiety, was thinking of his own country as he sang the prayerful words: “Our fathers’ God, to Thee, Author of liberty, To Thee we sing; Long may our land be bright With freedom’s holy light; Protect us by Thy might, Great God, our King.” Thus did two statesmen of the twentieth century render Gunner Led the Song of Praise“Circumstances called for patient waiting,” said one who had been interned in the Allied-Prisoners-of-War Camp “on the west coast of the island of Honshu.... Over the mountains and two hundred miles to the south the first atom bomb had been dropped during those momentous days of August, 1945.... Then suddenly everything was quiet. The wailing air-raid sirens, the heavy drone of giant bombers, the explosions, the flames, the panic and confusion ceased.” “The ending of hostilities ... gave place to long silent and uneventful days, completely cut off from news of the outside world.” Thus ran the story of one who signed himself with the initials “R. E. W. H.” as he narrated some of his experiences in the Japanese prison camp during World War II. The prison community consisted of Australians, Americans, Dutch and British. Three and a half years of alien bondage had been endured by some of them. One of the first concerted acts of these former prisoners, when they definitely realized their freedom, was to hold a service of thanksgiving. The account of this appeared in The British Weekly, September 9, 1946. They had “no padre or religious leadership, but the desire to give praise and thanks in a form of Divine service was spontaneous, and embraced all sects and racial creeds.” The first hymn used was a most appropriate selection: “Praise, my soul, the King of heaven, To His feet thy tribute bring; Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven, Evermore His praises sing; Alleluia! Alleluia! Praise the Everlasting King!” They did not get a good start. Perhaps they were overwhelmed by their emotions. Eventually they followed the lead “of a confident and enthusiastic little gunner”; and as the company gained control of itself “the hymn swelled to strength, sung by Catholic, Anglican, Nonconformist.” The service was methodical, having been planned with care. It was held on the small parade ground in the center of the camp. The table was covered by a worn but well-washed strip of cloth. The crucifix was made by a carpenter among the prisoners; and the Japanese, by request, had supplied a small bowl of flowers. Benches were taken from the huts of the prisoners, and served as seats. The men had dressed for the occasion as best they could. The writer who related the incident had been asked to address them; and he found the assembled men most attentive. The peace that came from the hymns and prayers “was reflected in their eyes and attitude.” Those who shared in worship will never forget that day. How feelingly they must have sung that third verse! “Father-like, He tends and spares us; Well our feeble frame He knows: In His hands He gently bears us, Rescues us from all our foes; Alleluia! Alleluia! Widely yet His mercy flows.” Minister Thrilled by Singing of Philadelphia Laymen“John Reith was reared in a Scottish manse on a diet of porridge and prayer,” but because of his useful service to his native land he eventually became Sir John Reith. During the first World War he visited the United States as an inspector of war munitions, and in the interest of national service. He had rendered service as Captain John C. Reith, and had been wounded. He was a notable figure as he moved through the streets of Philadelphia, being 76 inches tall. The minister who relates the following story often saw him as he walked down Chestnut Street, for his “great height and commanding figure attracted all eyes.” The Rev. John T. Reeve, then a pastor of a Presbyterian Church in the city, related the incident in 1941. Many prominent laymen of the Presbyterian Churches of Philadelphia and vicinity constituted the Social Union, and had a dinner once a month. Occasionally ministers were invited. Captain Reith was invited to address the Social Union during his visit, and Dr. Reeve was a guest at that meeting. The speaker indicated how much he missed the Bibles from the pews in our American churches, and also made reference to the ministry of his father. “His talk moved the audience deeply, and this young soldier made such a spiritual impression on this company of several hundred business and professional men as had seldom been felt.” When Captain Reith ceased speaking the whole body of men sprang to their feet. A prominent organist from one of the churches went to the piano, and started to play. His selection was: “The heavens declare Thy glory, Lord, In every star Thy wisdom shines; But when our eyes behold Thy Word, We read Thy Name in fairer lines.” This hymn of Isaac Watts was sung to the tune of Uxbridge. “Such singing I never heard before or since,” said Dr. Reeve, as he recalled the event several years later. Then he explained: “In not many cities could this have taken place. But in Philadelphia, where so many of these men had been brought up in Covenanter and United Presbyterian churches, they knew the great hymn. The thrills ran up and down my back, and many times since in giving out the hymn I have mentioned the incident, and shall always remember Captain J. C. Reith with honor.” “We Love the Place”“WE RETURN HOME!” was the announcement which appeared in some of the London papers in March, 1946. This was followed by the statement that on Saturday evening, March 9, at 6:30, there would be an act of “thanksgiving in song.” This was a call to the congregation of Central Hall, Westminster, London, who had been dispossessed of the use of their building for the use of the United Nations’ Conference. The spacious Hall, the center of extensive social and evangelistic work, was the place considered to be most suitable for the gathering. Hence it was a strange sight to see statesmen from many lands assemble day after day in the place where the people were accustomed to hear the minister, the Rev. Dr. W. E. Sangster, proclaim the message of life everlasting to large congregations. “We have been on a strange pilgrimage,” remarked Dr. Sangster, as he faced his re-united people in their own place of worship. During the previous four months they had conducted their Sunday services in two different theatres, and also the Carlton Hotel, all of which had extended hospitality. Naturally, extensive preparations were made for the joyful occasion. The great Wiseman Choir, composed of singers from many religious centers in London, and organized in memory of the beloved musician and preacher, Dr. F. Luke Wiseman, sang; and Dr. George F. Brockless was the leader of the singing company. “The choir obviously enjoyed themselves,” said a reporter. Famous musicians participated; and outstanding musical selections were rendered, including the majestic “Hallelujah Chorus.” Everybody wanted to sing on this happy occasion. The hymns needed to be selected with particular care. Beautifully appropriate, therefore, was the first hymn of the program: “We love the place, O God, Wherein Thine honor dwells; The joy of Thine abode All earthly joy excels. “It is the house of prayer, Wherein Thy servants meet; And Thou, O Lord, art there, Thy chosen flock to greet.” This hymn, which appeared in “Hymns Ancient and Modern,” 1861, has found wide acceptance. It is found in The Church Hymnary (Scotland); The Hymnary of the United Church of Canada; and likewise The Hymnal The author was the Rev. William Bullock, D.D. (1798-1874), who was of English birth. Thirty-two years he served as a minister for the Society of the Propagation of the Gospel. Dr. James Moffatt tells us that this hymn, based on Psalm 26:8, “was composed in 1827 for the dedication of a church in Trinity Bay, Newfoundland, where he was rector.” He also adds that “seventy years later, when a new building on the same site was dedicated, this hymn was once more sung.” “Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise,” said the Psalmist. It was in this spirit that the congregation of the Central Hall, Westminster, “spent a memorable evening of thanksgiving.” The hearts of the people overflowed with joy as they ecstatically sang: “We love the place, O God.” Prayerful were the lines which closed that hymn: “Lord Jesus, give us grace On earth to love Thee more, In heaven to see Thy face, And with Thy saints adore.” Memorable Rendering of the Doxology“I believe the men will wish to sing and pray,” said the Rev. Dr. Oscar R. Maurer of New Haven, Conn., when he secured consent from the military authorities to have the doors of the cathedral of Verdun opened when the firing should cease at the end of World War I. The dramatic story of the event was written for Association Men by one who had been at work in France with the “Ten minutes of eleven, and still the guns roared on, unmindful of the fact that peace was imminent. Five minutes of eleven, and even the general and his aides were showing signs of nervousness.... “Then, as suddenly as though God Himself had dropped a wet blanket over the crackling flames of hell and at one blow had extinguished them all, the firing and the rumbling ceased. There was an instant’s pause in which it seemed as though the world had come to an end. Then from the forty bells high in the still untouched towers of that old cathedral at Verdun, which had witnessed the most heroic sacrifice of life and love save that on Calvary alone, pealed forth as did the voices over the Bethlehem hills, those silver tones that once again were saying, ‘Peace on earth.’” The men began to leap wildly and joyously. They shouted, sang and kissed one another. The cathedral doors opened slowly, and about six hundred soldiers from the armies of the Allies entered with a rush. Dr. Maurer walked quietly to the altar rail, and there knelt in prayer. Officers and privates alike reached for the swinging ropes, and gave the bells another pull. The possibility that the opportunity for a religious service was lost oppressed the heart of Dr. Maurer with fear. The assembling company, however, soon observed the lonely figure kneeling at the altar, and they began to move forward. He rose, and all was quiet. “Boys,” said he, “I believe we all want to sing, and that we ought to sing the doxology.” An English soldier, with a splendid tenor voice, started the familiar line: “Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.” Instantly all who knew the words joined in the glorious doxology. Then the Americans, the English and the French sang their respective national anthems before they reverently left the building. General Valentine, who had given consent for the service to be held in the cathedral, went forward, took Dr. Maurer’s hands in his own, and said, “I want to thank you for leading these men on this occasion to offer praise to God....” |
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