Surely the Presence of the Lord -- Lanny Wolfe

Surely the Presence of the Lord -- Lanny Wolfe

It might alternately be called ‘Floyd’s Song’ because of the circumstances surrounding its genesis. That’s the subtitle that Lanny Wolfe gave to the words and the music for something he wrote back in the 1970’s (about 1977) for an event where he and his group were waiting to join in a celebration. Sure, Lanny and his friends had been asked, so their attendance at the church building dedication was not a surprise, but when Lanny heard a small but distinct voice tell him some words for a new song, that was unexpected (or, was it really?). “Surely the Presence of the Lord” was born on the spot as the Lanny Wolfe Trio prepared to sing, and the way it’s been used since then makes one think God must have had more than one episode in mind when he whispered the words to the composer that day.

Lanny Wolfe was certainly struck by how “Surely the Presence of the Lord” worked its way into his being the very first time, perhaps because of the multiple incidents over the following decades in which it played such a memorable role in his and others’ lives. The minister’s name at the church in Columbia, Mississippi was Floyd Odom, and he’d invited Lanny and his group to sing as the members of the church there marked the completion of the church building. So, Lanny must have thought that Floyd was the reason for the song’s origin - -without that moment and the gathering of joyful people eager to thank the Holy One for His work, maybe the song would not have come about. Indeed, Lanny tends to remember lots of the Trio’s songs with subtitles that say they are some person’s song…perhaps his way of saying that songs inhabit us personally, not just events or places in time. Lanny says the song’s words came quickly, such that he didn’t have the chance to run through any chords or even tell his fellow musicians, Marietta Wolfe (his wife at the time) and Dave Petersen, what had just popped into his head. So, he taught it to them the same moment the assembled church members heard it, with just the notes and flow of the song in his head. Lanny says it worked because there were people there, not just pews and stain-glassed windows. He wanted to be in them, not the building. And, that’s been the song’s recurring theme in at least four other episodes in many different circumstances, which Lanny relates in the book More Than Wonderful that he’s put together to tell his song stories.

 

The other episodes range from a personal one-on-one Midwestern U.S. incident in which someone’s life was in danger, to a megachurch in China where the song was a celebration sung in many languages. It’s been transmitted to countless people on a television broadcast, but also used in private family gatherings to shepherd a dear family member into eternity.  How varied are our people-centered experiences, but how common is the foundation that we believers have? That’s what Lanny Wolfe is communicating in the words he composed that day in Columbia, Mississippi. He’s present where His people are, be they just one or two, or perhaps many thousands. And, he comes during our many emotions. Just like Job, I can worship even though beaten down (Job 1:20), or I may instead be in a festive spirit like David (2 Sam. 6:16-21), though it offends others. I just know He’s inside. Who could contain what is surely there, Lanny says?   

Biographical information on Lanny Wolfe is from this website:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lanny_Wolfe

See this site to obtain the book “More than Wonderful”, where the story to the song is found: http://lannywolfe.com/

   

No, Not One – Johnson Oatman, Jr.

He was a believer in insurance …that’s what many who crossed this fellow’s path might have remembered about him, if they never saw his poetry. But, it’s a good bet that Johnson Oatman Jr.’s insurance advice wasn’t exclusively the conventional kind that would protect yours and your loved ones’ financial state. He’d probably pondered another state for a while by the time he turned 39 and wrote the words “No, Not One” as the turn of the century approached in 1895. His vocation, though secular, did not prevent him from pursuing other, deeper expressions of his beliefs, a ministry that flourished and was prodigious by any standard. What motivated him, at a relatively late point in life, to burst forth with his song-writing?  Was he thinking negatively (No, Not One), as someone might who’s considering negative space (as in this classic Rubin’s vase optical illusion, shown here, wherein nothingness actually does depict something after all)?

Johnson Oatman, Jr. evidently took after his father, Johnson Sr., in many ways, but also sowed new ground following his father’s departure from life. His father’s reputation as a singer—called by some the best in the eastern U.S.--no doubt overshadowed the younger Johnson to some degree. He nevertheless must have admired his dad, so much so that he joined in the family’s business to work alongside Johnson Sr. Moreover, at 19 years old, he became an ordained Methodist minister, yet remained in the family’s commercial enterprise, manifest evidence that he’d matured in the faith instilled by his father while remaining close to his parental and vocational influence. With his father’s death (exact year unknown), two important changes would commence in Johnson Jr.’s life. The younger Oatman is credited with some 3,000 to 5,000 hymn texts, an incredible number, especially considering he did not begin this avocation until in his mid-30’s, apparently after his father was gone. In addition to this new venture, he changed professional careers, entering the insurance field (the reason for the switch in vocation is not known). Thus, a casual, distant observer might presume that the son was finally breaking free of shackles, becoming his own man both vocationally and creatively. Perhaps some of that is true. But, one thing that linked the two Oatmans remained – the father’s love for God expressed through music did not die with him. Indeed, watching and listening to his dad for years, someone might say, welled up into a colossus that would articulate itself throughout the last three decades of the son’s life. “No Not One”, written about three years into this new part of Oatman’s life as a songwriter, offers a window into his emotions and his spirit.  Was he breaking free, or was he magnifying what had been planted inside? You and I can look at his words and decide.

Johnson Oatman evidently had issues like any of us, someone who needed ‘cheer’ while confined in a dark place managing ‘struggles’ and ‘soul’s diseases’. He also evidently had pangs of loneliness. He’d lost his father, so we might surmise he was missing him and clinging to the divine Father. That Father promises not to leave. As he looked around in 1895, perhaps that’s what he’d discovered, that nothing down here compares to what He has for me. People die. Jobs change. Can I find anything here that’s good that doesn’t eventually bust, or any hurt that completely goes away though salved with the best solution? No, not one, Oatman’s words repeat. Was it a mid-life crisis, triggered by personal and vocational challenges that made Johnson Oatman write the words? Maybe. They won’t matter, ultimately. No, not one. These negative words are worth a hoorah in this case!   

           

See more information on the composer and the song in Amazing Grace: 366 Inspiring Hymn Stories for Daily Devotions by Kenneth W. Osbeck, Kregel Publications, 1990; and The Complete Book of Hymns – Inspiring Stories About 600 Hymns and Praise Songs by William J. Petersen and Ardythe Petersen, Tyndale House Publishers, 2006.  For more background on the composer, see Then Sings My Soul – 150 of the World’s Greatest Hymn Stories, Robert J. Morgan, Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2003; and 101 More Hymn Stories, by Kenneth W. Osbeck, Kregel Publications, 1985

Follow Me -- Ira F. Stanphill

The story wasn’t his own, but it moved him nevertheless. Ira Forest Stanphill sat spellbound by the missionary couple’s story, so drawn to what they’d experienced that he couldn’t forget it the next morning as he sat at a piano and poured his emotions into the song “Follow Me” one day in 1953. Now, the memory of that experience doesn’t have to remain distant. Like an aroma that stirs recollection of something with a unique taste, making the mouth water in anticipation, this song’s words probably reminded those two missionaries of their challenges and how they endured. Perhaps knowing the story’s background will resonate with others who’ve labored similarly (with a mental picture of a missionary, like that shown here), and wondered if it was worth the effort.

  

He was a 39-year old singing preacher, who’d been conducting his own ministry for many years when he heard a story by Charles Greenaway at a Texas conference in 1953.  The Greenaways (Charles and his wife Mary) had been young missionaries in Africa, and Ira Stanphill, as any minister committed to God’s work would do, probably expected to hear something interesting and informative from them as he attended the Grand Prairie conference one evening. Maybe he got more than he bargained for, because the story made its way onto a song sheet the next day, through his own tears. The Greenaways didn’t think Africa was for them at first, those many years earlier. Mary was sick, an irony that probably was not lost on her and Charles, who had gone to help people there through a medical missionary effort they were eager to use as a springboard to introduce God to the people. It seemed that the physical needs of the locals were so great, however, that no room was left for the deeper spiritual food they wanted to dispense too. And with Mary laid low, Charles’ spirit called out ‘Lord, send us somewhere else!’ He sensed God’s answer, a gentle but firm reminder that Jesus had likewise felt the sting of apathy and rejection. Do as He did, they sensed, and leave the rest to Him. That’s faith, putting it simply -- not seeing the logic or tangible effects of one’s efforts, but showing up anyway. Eventually, the Greenaways saw the spiritual fruit they longed to harvest. From one minister to another, Charles Greenaway’s story washed over Ira Stanphill. Were Ira Stanphill’s nerves tingling? Did he hear something that his own 17 years of ministry had imprinted on him – a commitment to patient endurance, being a tool for Him?    

Maybe Ira connected personally with something Charles said, or perhaps he just felt the impact of this couple’s zeal and their potent story. We can ask Ira later (since he died in 1993) what it was especially that made his tears flow the next morning as he thought about the Greenaways’ African experience. Stanphill certainly identified with messaging to other cultures, as he preached in 40 different countries outside of the U.S. before expiring at the age of 79. “Follow Me” took Stanphill lots of places that he probably wouldn’t have gone otherwise. The words he wrote – loneliness, sacrifice, burdens, and misplaced pride – suggest he needed an experience like the Greenaways bore to hone his ministerial aptitude, too. Hang tough, and know the intimate fellowship with Him that comes along the coarse, uneven path. A missionary might even travel a violent road. He didn’t promise it’d be easy. But, just imagine what a now-departed missionary is tasting right now. It’ll be worth it, won’t it?  

       

The primary source for the story on this song is the book Stories Behind Popular Songs and Hymns, by Lindsay Terry, Baker Book House, 1990. Also, see more information on the composer in Amazing Grace: 366 Inspiring Hymn Stories for Daily Devotions by Kenneth W. Osbeck, Kregel Publications, 1990, and 101 More Hymn Stories, by Kenneth W. Osbeck, Kregel Publications, 1985.