They
were saying ‘good-bye’, and he must have felt like he didn’t want it to end. Or
did he? James Edwin Orr had been visiting New Zealand, and he experienced
something over those few days that he wanted to never forget. It was an episode
he wanted to remember so much, that he studied about it for the next several
decades, starting with some words he called “Search Me, O God” (some call it “Cleanse
Me”). But, there was a part of that departure that he must have felt was positive,
something that was indeed necessary to usher out and bid ‘good riddance’. Perhaps
that’s what made it so easy for Orr to compose words to match the tune he’d
just heard, in the context of what he’d witnessed among many new believers in
that island nation in 1936.
Twenty-four
year old James Orr was on an Easter mission campaign to the South Pacific
during the mid-1930’s, an event that had a profound impact on his life,
reflected in the words he recorded in just a few moments. The site was
Ngaruawahia, a town on the northern island of New Zealand (see map).
Orr’s
messages to eager students during his stay there were convicting, motivating
many to make decisions for Christ – a true revival. Perhaps his own words to
listeners had contained the themes he would later record in the poem, that a
convert must be willing to depart from old ways to invite God into one’s life. His
listeners weren’t the only ones affected. As he was serenaded by native Maori
women who wanted to say farewell with a song, Orr was touched. Something about
music tends to stick in a person’s mind, as Orr would no doubt confirm if he
were still here to ask. Some call it a medical, neurological phenomenon. Or, is
it just because God has wired us that way, to let the Spirit reach us in this
mode? Whatever the case, Orr’s mind kept replaying the Maori women’s heartfelt
wishes, and words flowed from his mind onto the back of an envelope as he was
in a local post office. It kicked off the next several decades of his life
apparently, as he studied revivals and travelled the world, taking this poem-Maori
farewell fusion product with him.
The tune was about farewell, and perhaps its
original purpose was why it fit so well with what Orr wanted to motivate. He wanted a revival, and what would that
require? His own thoughts drifted to those of another songwriter from centuries
before. The David who recorded the words of Psalm 139’s last two stanzas was a
guy who needed someone – God – to clean him up before he could go forward. This
ancient king was as fallible as you or me, though he’s remembered as ‘the man
after God’s own heart’(Acts 13:22). His thoughts directly before the ones in
Psalm 139 that stirred James Orr three millennia later were unvarnished evil –
hatred and slaying of enemies. It must have occurred to the king that he, God’s
chosen, was nevertheless occasionally a bloodthirsty reprobate. Can that person and God inhabit the same
space? You know the answer, don’t you? James Edwin Orr did too, and convinced
many others to ask themselves the same question. Say good-bye to the hating,
slaying you.
The
following website has a soundtrack for the song: http://www.hymntime.com/tch/htm/s/e/a/searchme.htm
See the
site here for rendition of the native farewell song that is the tune the composer
adopted for this hymn: http://folksong.org.nz/poatarau/
See more
information on the song discussed above in The Complete Book of Hymns –
Inspiring Stories About 600 Hymns and Praise Songs by William J. Petersen
and Ardythe Petersen, Tyndale House Publishers, 2006. Also, see Amazing Grace: 366 Inspiring
Hymn Stories for Daily Devotions by Kenneth W. Osbeck, Kregel Publications,
1990; and Then Sings My Soul – 150 of the World’s Greatest Hymn Stories,
Robert J. Morgan, Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2003.