Here was a 62-year old woman, choosing to live below
the standard she could have, because of what? Can you or I guess where Fanny
Jane Crosby was when she penned “Redeemed” in 1882? Fortunately, Crosby’s life
was not one hidden among crevices nor behind curtains, but among many witnesses.
That’s how folks, those who have nothing to hide, live. Because she was mortal,
like you or me, she was also a mistake-maker. Yet one who’s been given a second
or many more chances to walk the straight and narrow is also someone who’s familiar
with this honest, human admission – I can’t meet the perfection standard,
particularly as I continue to live and add more years to my life resume’. I
need help. Fanny described it with the one-word title of this song.
Frances (Fanny,
even Aunt Fanny to many) had decided in the few years before 1882 that she
wanted to make a more concerted effort to reach the poor through missionary work,
and she focused herself principally on New York’s Manhattan area. She
reportedly lived in a very humble apartment at 9 Frankfort Street, a slum,
until 1884. Some call it Skid Row. The Water Street (see its picture here),
Bowery, Howard, Cremore, Door of Hope, and probably other mission works became synonymous
with Fanny’s life outreach to those in poverty. It might have also been an area
that plagued its inhabitants with crime. No doubt, a lot was wrong with this
area. Maybe that’s what drew Fanny there. Fanny chose a word ‘redeem’ to
underscore her message to Skid Rowers. It probably wasn’t one she devised
herself, but biblical. If Fanny used a King James version (perhaps the most
common in 19th Century America?), she would have run across ‘redeem’
119 times in her study of the Word. In short, redeem means to rescue something
at a price. If you can clearly see your life is a mess, perhaps you more
readily submit yourself to the Redeemer – a conclusion Fanny might have reached
as she lived among the slum-dwellers of Manhattan. And, more than that, don’t
be embarrassed to say so. Proclaim it, even in song.
Though
Fanny herself must have had issues that needed redeeming, we don’t know specifically
what those might have been in 1882. She was human, like me – that’s all I need
to know. If I choose to gloss over my shortcomings, I might confuse and trick
myself to think I’m OK. Instead, physical reminders can force me to recognize
the brokenness of me, of my terminal condition. Fanny had no eyesight (lost
when she was an infant), yet a blind woman, who could do what she did, shed
light on something her neighbors on Frankfort Street could clearly see in their
minds’ eyes. She pointed at Him in all her songs, though she couldn’t
physically see Him. Neither can you or I, yet.
Information on the song was obtained from the books Amazing Grace – 366 Inspiring Hymn Stories
for Daily Devotions, by Kenneth W. Osbeck, 1990, Kregel Publications; The
Complete Book of Hymns – Inspiring Stories About 600 Hymns and Praise Songs,
by William J. and Ardythe Petersen, 2006, Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
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