Today, we begin our summer sermon series, looking at the ways our favorite hymns shape our minds and hearts. We’re kicking things off with a hymn that has one heck of a story behind it, and its power to comfort and anchor us in the storms of life is unparalleled. I’m going to invite you to grab your hymnal along with your Bible, and open it to hymn #840 – It is Well With My Soul.
But before we dive in to the words and music of ‘It Is Well’, we’re going to hear from Paul’s letter to the Philippians.
Paul planted this church in a bustling city in Macedonia – a colony of the Roman empire in what is now northeastern Greece. But Paul writes to them from prison – one of his many stints behind bars for stirring up trouble – and for a very practical reason. The church in Philippi had sent one of their own, Epaphroditus, to visit him and bring a financial gift to help keep him alive. In the ancient world, necessities like food and clothing were not necessarily provided to folks in prison, so gifts like this were a literal lifeline.
Keep that in mind as we hear from chapter 4, toward the end of his letter.
Scripture: Philippians 4:4-13
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. As for the things that you have learned and received and heard and noticed in me, do them, and the God of peace will be with you.
I rejoice in the Lord greatly that now at last you have revived your concern for me; indeed, you were concerned for me but had no opportunity to show it. Not that I am referring to being in need, for I have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances, I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.
Paul is in prison, likely waiting on a trial. He has plenty to complain about. He has plenty to be frustrated about. He could have spent four chapters’ worth of words on paper appealing to powerful people who might change his circumstances.
But instead, he writes to thank this community of faith, filled with people he loves, for their gift – and to encourage them to keep going, to serve God and one another, to be unified as a community in their hearts and their message, to keep in front of them Christ’s sacrificial love.
We often see that last verse used in ways that make it seem like Paul is saying “Because of Jesus, I can do anything I put my mind to!” But when we read the whole context, we see that Paul isn’t talking about the ability to rip phone books in half or make people change or always find the perfect parking space.
Paul is saying that “whatever comes my way, I can endure it because the love and grace of Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit give me the strength to not just survive, but to keep doing what I’m called to do.”
This is the same core message that we find in this hymn. But these words did not come from someone sitting at a desk, comfortably reflecting on the words of Paul. The words of this hymn, written by Horatio G. Spafford, were just as hard-won as Paul’s.
Spafford was an attorney, and most of his money was tied up in real estate investments in Chicago. But when the Great Chicago Fire destroyed a big chunk of the city in 1871, he lost almost everything. He poured himself into his job, working to rebuild the city and help the 100,000 people who were suddenly homeless.
Two years later, in 1873, he decided to take his family to Europe. He had friends who were working as evangelists there, so the plan was to attend some of their meetings in England, connect with them for mutual encouragement, and then enjoy a vacation.
But just before they were meant to leave, a zoning question came up for one of his Chicago properties that he had to take care of before leaving. So he sent his wife, Anna, and their four daughters on one ship and promised to follow them on another.
The five of them settled into a cabin on the S.S. Ville du Havre, a steamship headed to France.
On November 22nd, a week after setting out, the Ville du Havre was sailing through thick fog, and it collided with an iron sailing ship. Both sank in the Atlantic. Horatio’s wife, Anna, was rescued and brought ashore in Cardiff, Wales, where she sent her husband a two-word telegram: “Saved alone.”
Their four daughters were among the 226 dead after this tragedy: Annie, age 12; Maggie, age 7; Bessie, age 5; and Tanetta, age 2.
Horatio immediately left on another ship to meet his wife in the UK. On a cold, blustery night in December, they passed through the same waters where the Ville du Havre sank, and the captain pulled him aside and told him where they were. Horatio was deeply troubled, and said to himself: “It is well; let the will of God be done.”
These were the words, this was the moment, that inspired the hymn we now have before us. A man who was not saying “everything’s fine, calm down” but one who knew the depths of human grief and powerlessness and turned to trust in the love, grace, and hope of Christ Jesus.
Once we know the story, it’s hard not to imagine a grieving father standing on the deck of a ship when we hear that first verse:
When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll.
Whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say,
It is well. It is well with my soul.
This is precisely what Paul is referring to when he says “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”
Paul is not patting us on the head with a promise that “don’t worry, you’ll be fine!” He is telling us that even when it’s not fine, when we are deeply not okay, when the very foundations of our lives seem to be cracking under our feet, the love of God will not leave us. The peace of Christ, despite all logic, will offer us a refuge from the storm, an anchor to keep us from being completely swept away by the horror of it all.
Horatio and Anna Spafford went on to have three children after this tragedy, two of whom survived to adulthood, and eventually they moved to Jerusalem to start a Christian community there, focused on charity work among Muslim, Christian, and Jewish residents alike. Some of their descendants still operate a hotel on the grounds of that old community today.
Some hymns are written with a tune already in mind. This one, however, was not.
Spafford provided the words, and a gospel songwriter and evangelist by the name of Phillip Bliss wrote the music specifically for these words.
And that becomes all the more obvious when we hear the first verse. Take a look at your hymnal. The tune begins calmly, like a gently flowing river. In the second line, the words and the music seem to combine to take the shape of a billowing wave. (When sorrows like sea billows roll)
The third line feels like taking a big breath in before beginning a grand speech, building momentum until we get to the great proclamation in line four: it is well, it is well with my soul!
The chorus, then, feels like solid ground beneath your feet, a gentle whisper in your ear: it is well.
The hymn as we know it was first published in 1876 – precisely 150 years ago. And since then, the people of God across the world have turned to this song to give voice to the ways our grief and our hope are so tightly bound up together in Christ.
And no matter how it’s played or sung, with the magnificence of an organ or quietly and a cappella, its power to console and strengthen us remains steadfast.
So, beloved people of God, let us bring all that we are and all that we have, that we might see and know the promises of God as we sing #840 – It Is Well With My Soul.