On Jordan's Stormy Banks -- Samuel Stennett

This hymnist had plenty of time and people in his bloodline to observe, and to consider his destination. The Englishman Samuel Stennett was from a long line that had undoubtedly spoken of what life’s end would represent for the believer, and so it was something this 18^th Century London minister likewise pondered. Because he was from multiple generations of Stennetts that served in ministry, Samuel’s vision of what it would be like “On Jordan’s Stormy Banks” must have also included a reunion with others of his family. When exactly did he begin to imagine the scene of which he wrote? Did it look at all like the Jordan River here on earth? (See its picture here.)

One can guess that this was a lifelong moving-picture show, which became even more vivid when his own father went to cross the river, leaving Samuel to walk in his and two previous generations’ footsteps. He likely passed on this mental imagery to his own son, making five generations the expectant inheritors of a common promise.  

Samuel Stennett’s earthly life began in 1727, but his was one that really had its origins many decades prior to the century in which he lived, and then contributed well beyond his earthly life’s conclusion in 1795. His great-grandfather Edward, and his grandfather Joseph, had been ministers in England also, so it was no surprise when Samuel’s father, also named Joseph (the II), entered ministry, with Samuel waiting in the wings soon thereafter. Samuel’s own son, likewise named Joseph (the IV), would also be a minister, like the four generations of Stennetts before him. (Samuel also had a brother named Joseph  [Joseph III] – also a minister.) So, with such a rich heritage of faith and ministry in one family, one can imagine that Samuel from an early age heard of what the Stennetts could expect after a life spent in God’s work. We know not the precise context in which Samuel found himself when he crafted seven stanzas, and at least one refrain (a second alternate refrain is commonly used in many hymnals today) to express what he envisioned awaited himself, and indeed all believers. Nevertheless, Samuel had seen or heard from many generations like himself, and as a minister he also likely counseled numerous lay persons regarding the afterlife. The transition from life to afterlife would be – and is still, today – an ever-present topic among the faithful. Samuel’s desire to express himself poetically was also part of the DNA he inherited, as Joseph I (his grandfather) had likewise been a hymnwriter, a bit of family history that we can presume Samuel had learned. Was this a further motivating factor in Samuel’s effort to describe the spiritual Jordan River in poetic form? Three generations of Stennetts played a part in motivating a fourth to craft “On Jordan’s Stormy Banks”, a gift that has endured for many more generations since then.

Did Samuel’s vision become more urgent the older he became? When he took over his father’s ministry in 1758 (at the age of 31) when he died, did that help spawn “On Jordan’s…”? If these mortal episodes impacted Samuel, that would not be unusual; perhaps they helped gestate the poem that would be first published as a hymn some 29 years later, in 1787. Notably, Samuel makes no allusions to his earthly family in his words. The scenery of that place and the presence of God matter most to Samuel. No one will want to miss it, especially if you think you might be getting closer to that water. Enough said?

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; 101 More Hymn Stories, by Kenneth W. Osbeck, 1985, Kregel Publications; and The Complete Book of Hymns – Inspiring Stories About 600 Hymns and Praise Songs, by William J. and Ardythe Petersen, 2006, Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

See biography of author here: http://www.hymntime.com/tch/bio/s/t/e/n/stennett_s.htm

Also see this site for all the song’s verses: http://www.hymntime.com/tch/htm/o/j/o/ojordsbi.htm

How Beautiful Heaven Must Be -- Cordie Bridgewater

What moved this nearly anonymous woman to share her mental imagery of the afterlife, while living in northern Alabama approximately 100 years ago? Was it the bittersweet longing of her heart for a departed child that compelled this poetry, producing this therapeutic remedy for a deep hurt that Cordelia Bridgewater had suffered? If the daughter Cordie lost during the early part of the 20^th century was her only offspring, one can understand especially how she must have needed some method to salve the pain. Could she have known that “How Beautiful Heaven Must Be” (also known as “We Read of a Place That’s Called Heaven”) would also be her progeny, a kind of child attributed to her? We all produce something, a fruit of a life lived that seeks to impact others, something that doesn’t expire, but is instead passed on to one’s descendants. ‘What’s my offspring?’, you might inquire.   

There’s very few details of Cordie Bridgewater, save what could be contained in a couple of sentences and what is put on a gravestone; there’s probably more words in her poem than there are in her own biography. Moreover, the circumstances of how her hymn words came about are unknown, though one evident life-changing event could have been the impetus for her verses. Married to Albert Samuel Bridgewater, Cordie and her husband lived in America’s Deep South on either side of the start of the 20^th century, when and where they had one daughter named Florence. The historical record indicates Florence had died as a child before 1910, and it is likewise believed that Cordie wrote this ‘How Beautiful Heaven…’ ode, perhaps in the aftermath of this tragedy, while the couple lived in the Hanceville, Alabama area.  No other details are known of this family’s heartbreak, but one can assume they had others of like faith nearby to share their sorrow. Did perhaps one or more of them encourage Cordie’s writing of the words we still have a century later? Did Albert and Cordie mourn long? Was the first line of her second verse – including the words ‘drooping or pining’ -- a reference to their own recent or ongoing experience? If so, she must have tired of the misery of loss, for her words speak of the ‘happy and free’ (refrain), and ‘pure waters of life’ (v. 3). One common coping mechanism for the believer is to imagine – indeed, feel confidently – that the departed loved one is in a grand place, awaiting the arrival of others. This is particularly true when the deceased, especially a child, has gone prematurely. ‘Rare jewels’ (v. 3) and ‘angels’…sweetly…singing’ (v.4) are just some of the other trappings of heaven Cordie visualized happily.

Heaven is not only beautiful, according to Cordie. It is one of God’s truths (v.1), is restful (refrain), and is full of light (v. 2). Death, therefore, is not a dreadful transition, but a blessed passage that allows me to find freedom (vv. 1, 3, refrain) in the presence of the One who makes it all possible. Could that be one of the reasons that beings sing there (v.4)? I can think of other reasons, including family reunions that are near the top of my list for going to such a place. Can you imagine Albert and Cordie embracing Florence again? Who else can you see there?

Following site is one source of information on song: https://hymnary.org/text/we_read_of_a_place_thats_called_heaven

See author’s obituary here: https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/51850837/cordelia-j.-bridgewater

Heaven Holds All to Me -- Tillit Sydney Teddlie

He evidently wanted his own gravestone to be a signpost, substituting for his voice in the time after which he expected to be gone. This fellow was pretty thoughtful, intentional, and hopeful that what words he crafted might survive his own mortal existence, and so it was when Tillit Sydney Teddlie wrote “Earth Holds No Treasures” (perhaps more commonly known as “Heaven Holds All to Me”) early in his life. He lived his entire life in Texas, but that wasn’t the home he thought about, and so he spent a notable amount of his time poetically reminding himself and others where he thought home would be. He couldn’t have known how many years into the future this expectation would endure before bearing fruit, but that’s how dreams affix themselves in one’s consciousness – over time. This poet demonstrated, well-past an average person’s retirement age, that a patience while awaiting one’s inheritance for many decades after first envisioning it doesn’t mean standing still.   

Tillit and his wife had the words of “Heaven Holds All…” inscribed on the memorial stone marking the site of their burial ground. It’s a shortened, bumper-sticker-like phrase that points to the longer version of what Teddlie thought about this eternity subject. Tillit was a 30-year old, still relatively young and less than one-third of the way toward his goal, as it would turn out, in 1915; he lived until 1987, having passed the century-mark two years earlier. Tillit was most likely somewhere in northeast Texas, in one of several small towns or perhaps in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, when he wrote about the abode where he would go some 70 years into the future. He was frequently engaged in teaching singing, a skill he’d first begun as a teenager over a decade earlier, though his talents weren’t limited to music. He preached at half a dozen churches in this region over his lifetime, while writing approximately 130 songs and publishing more than a dozen songbooks. His part in singing schools, where he taught others how use their vocal skills via reading shape notes in printed music, must have touched the lives of thousands of people over the course of six decades. How many more people would have encountered Tillit and his heavenward message while sitting near a pulpit or by using a songbook? He didn’t complicate it too much, but showed some unpretentious words were golden. The ‘treasures (that)…perish’ (v.1) and ‘world(ly)…sorrows’ (v.3) just didn’t stack up against a ‘joy without measure’ (refrain) he aimed to inherit. What he sought was invaluable. No one can calculate a songwriter’s impact, especially when his subject is so universally true for all of us. 

Though Tillit did not share the particular episode that inspired his poem, we can guess its words grew out of his everyday perspective. After all, what else would a preacher-songwriter, who was engaged in spreading good news, be thinking about virtually every day? He must have known of the adage regarding how to catch flies – you attract them to something (like honey), rather than trying to chase them away from where you don’t want them to be. Tillit must have known that no one could argue with or run away from being ‘happy, contented, and free’ (v. 2). He called it a ‘wonderful country’. My everyday life in America is pretty nice, but there are frustrations too, routinely. Tillit would, no doubt, have recommended an alternative.       

Brief biography is here: http://www.hymntime.com/tch/bio/t/e/d/teddlie_ts.htm

A more thorough portrayal of composer’s life is here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tillit_Sidney_Teddlie

See his obituary here: https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/11006462