It is Well With My Soul: Poetry That Turns Sorrow into Trust
There are hymns that make us want to sing.
There are hymns that make us want to worship.
And then there are hymns that meet us in the places where words are hardest to find.
For the past several Tuesdays, Poetry Tuesday has been exploring some of the great hymns of the Christian faith. We began with Reginald Heber's “Holy, Holy, Holy,” a hymn that lifts our eyes toward the holiness and majesty of God.
Last Tuesday, we considered “How Great Thou Art,” a hymn that takes us from the wonder of creation to the greatness of God's saving love.
Today we turn in a different direction.
Today we come to a hymn born not simply from wonder, but from sorrow.
Not from an easy life, but from devastating loss.
And yet, somehow, from that sorrow came one of the most remarkable declarations of faith ever written:
“It Is Well with My Soul.”
A Hymn Born in Sorrow
The story behind this hymn is one of the most painful in Christian hymnody.
Horatio G. Spafford was a successful Chicago lawyer and businessman and a devoted Christian. He was also a friend and supporter of the evangelistic work associated with Dwight L. Moody.
But Spafford's life was touched by repeated tragedy.
In 1871, his young son died.
Then came the Great Chicago Fire, which destroyed much of the property in which Spafford had invested.
Still, he continued to serve God and to rebuild his life.
Two years later, another tragedy came—far greater than anything he had experienced before.
In November 1873, Spafford's wife, Anna, and their four daughters traveled across the Atlantic aboard the French ship Ville du Havre. Spafford remained behind because of business matters, intending to join them later.
The ship never reached Europe.
It collided with another vessel and sank.
His four daughters died.
Anna survived.
Her telegram to her husband contained the terrible words that told him what had happened:
“Saved alone.”
Spafford immediately traveled across the Atlantic to join his grieving wife.
During the voyage, the captain told him that they were passing over the place where the Ville du Havre had gone down.
It was there, in the midst of unimaginable grief, that Spafford wrote the words that would become one of the church's most enduring hymns. The Library of Congress preserves both the story and the manuscript associated with the hymn.
And the opening words are almost impossible to imagine coming from such a moment:
“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,When sorrows like sea billows roll…”
This is not shallow optimism.
It is not pretending that everything is fine.
It is faith speaking in the middle of the storm.
“When Sorrows Like Sea Billows Roll”
The poetry of the hymn begins with a contrast.
Peace.
Sorrow.
A river.
Sea billows.
The imagery is powerful because Spafford does not deny either reality.
There may be peace.
There may also be overwhelming sorrow.
The Christian life does not promise that the sea will always be calm.
Sometimes the waves come.
Sometimes they come with a force that leaves us wondering how we will survive.
And yet the hymn asks us to consider something deeper than our circumstances.
Can the soul be at peace even when life is not?
That is the question at the heart of this hymn.
Spafford does not say:
Everything is well around me.
He says:
It is well with my soul.
There is a profound difference.
Faith That Does Not Depend on Circumstances
We often think of peace as the absence of trouble.
But biblical faith teaches us something deeper.
Peace is not necessarily the absence of the storm.
It is confidence in God while the storm is still raging.
That is why “It Is Well with My Soul” has endured.
It does not tell us that suffering isn't real.
It tells us that suffering does not have the final word.
Spafford had lost his children.
He had experienced financial devastation.
He had known grief that cannot be easily explained.
Yet his faith had not disappeared.
Instead, his suffering became the setting in which he expressed his trust in God.
This is one of the great mysteries of Christian faith.
Sometimes our strongest declarations of trust are not spoken when everything is going well.
They are spoken when everything seems to be falling apart.
The Peace Is Found in Christ
The second stanza takes the hymn even deeper.
The answer to suffering is not simply positive thinking.
It is Christ.
Spafford writes of trials, temptation, and the believer's helplessness.
Then he turns our attention to what Christ has done.
The foundation of his peace is not his ability to endure.
It is the finished work of Jesus.
This is essential.
Christian peace is not ultimately confidence in ourselves.
It is confidence in Christ.
We may become weak.
Our circumstances may change.
Our emotions may rise and fall.
But Christ remains.
And the hymn reminds us that the believer's hope rests upon what Christ has accomplished rather than upon what the believer can accomplish.
That is why the hymn can be sung by someone who is grieving.
It can be sung by someone who is afraid.
It can be sung by someone who does not understand what God is doing.
Because its foundation is not an explanation.
Its foundation is Christ.
“My Sin—Not in Part but the Whole”
Then comes one of the most remarkable movements in the hymn.
Spafford moves from suffering to sin.
At first, this may seem surprising.
Why move from the tragedy of life to the problem of sin?
Because the deepest Christian hope is not simply that God will make our circumstances better.
The deepest hope is that God has dealt with our greatest problem.
Our sin.
The hymn declares that sin is nailed to the cross.
That is the heart of the gospel.
The Christian does not ultimately rest in the belief that life will become easier.
The Christian rests in the truth that Christ has accomplished salvation.
That changes everything.
Our circumstances may still hurt.
Our questions may remain.
Our tears may still come.
But our standing before God does not depend upon our circumstances.
It depends upon Christ.
And so the hymn moves from the pain of the world to the victory of the cross.
From sorrow to salvation.
From the sea to Calvary.
Poetry That Gives Grief a Voice
One reason great hymns matter is that they give us words when our own words fail.
There are moments when we do not know how to pray.
There are moments when grief is too deep for a carefully constructed sentence.
There are moments when we can only whisper a few words.
And sometimes those words have already been given to us.
“It is well with my soul.”
That does not mean:
I am not hurting.
It does not mean:
I understand everything.
It does not mean:
I have no questions.
It means something deeper.
God is still God.
Christ is still my Savior.
The cross still stands.
My hope is still secure.
And therefore, even in the darkness, the soul can trust.
A Hymn Written for the Whole Christian Life
There is another remarkable thing about this hymn.
It does not stop with the present moment.
It looks forward.
The final stanza turns our eyes toward the return of Christ.
Faith will one day become sight.
The clouds will be rolled back.
The trumpet will sound.
The Lord will come.
The hymn therefore gives us a complete picture of Christian hope.
It begins with our present circumstances.
It moves through suffering.
It takes us to the cross.
And then it carries us into eternity.
That is the Christian story.
We live in a world where sorrow is real.
We live beneath the shadow of death.
We know loss.
We know disappointment.
We know that this world is not yet what it will one day be.
But we also know that Christ has come.
Christ has died.
Christ has risen.
And Christ will come again.
Therefore our present suffering is not the end of the story.
The Music of Philip Bliss
The words were written by Horatio Spafford, but the music that has carried them around the world was composed by Philip P. Bliss.
Bliss was one of the great gospel songwriters of the nineteenth century.
He set Spafford's words to a melody he called “Ville du Havre,” after the ship whose sinking had taken Spafford's daughters. The hymn and tune were published together in 1876 in Gospel Hymns No. 2.
There is something fitting about that.
The name of the ship became the name of the melody.
A name associated with unimaginable loss became attached to a song that has brought comfort to millions.
The very thing that represented tragedy became connected with words of faith.
And that is a picture of the gospel itself.
God does not tell us that suffering is good.
But He is able to bring good even through suffering.
He is able to take what seems like an ending and use it as part of a greater story.
When Faith Is Tested
Most of us would prefer a faith that is never tested.
But tested faith is different from untested faith.
Anyone can say, “It is well,” when everything is going well.
The remarkable thing about Spafford's hymn is that the declaration was written in the presence of extraordinary suffering.
His faith was not theoretical.
It had been brought into the furnace.
And still he could say:
It is well with my soul.
That does not make his grief less real.
It makes his faith more profound.
The hymn reminds us that Christian faith is not measured only by what we say when life is easy.
Sometimes it is revealed most clearly by what we cling to when life is hard.
The Peace That the World Cannot Give
Jesus told His disciples:
“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you.”
That is a different kind of peace from the peace the world offers.
The world says peace comes when circumstances are under control.
Jesus gives peace even when circumstances are not.
The world says:
Get rid of the storm and then you can have peace.
Christ says:
I will be with you in the storm.
That is the peace of “It Is Well with My Soul.”
It is not the peace of a trouble-free life.
It is the peace of a soul anchored to Christ.
From Sorrow to Trust
Perhaps this is the great gift of Spafford's hymn.
It teaches us what to do with sorrow.
We do not have to deny it.
We do not have to hide it.
We do not have to pretend that we are stronger than we are.
We can bring it to God.
The hymn begins with peace and sorrow side by side.
It moves to the cross.
It looks toward Christ's return.
And then it gives the believer words with which to respond.
Not:
I understand everything.
Not:
I have no pain.
Not:
I know what tomorrow will bring.
But:
It is well with my soul.
Why This Hymn Still Speaks
More than 150 years after it was written, Christians still sing this hymn.
Why?
Because sorrow has not disappeared.
Loss has not disappeared.
Death has not disappeared.
Questions have not disappeared.
But neither has Christ.
That is why the hymn still speaks.
A grieving Christian can sing it.
A person facing illness can sing it.
Someone walking through uncertainty can sing it.
Someone standing beside an empty grave can sing it.
Someone who has no answers can still sing it.
Because the hymn does not depend upon having all the answers.
It depends upon knowing the One in whom we trust.
Poetry That Turns Sorrow into Trust
A good poem teaches us to see.
A good hymn teaches us to respond.
“Holy, Holy, Holy” taught us to look upon the holiness of God.
“How Great Thou Art” taught us to look at creation and see the greatness of its Creator.
“It Is Well with My Soul” teaches us something different.
It teaches us to look at our sorrow and then look beyond our sorrow to Christ.
It reminds us that faith is not the absence of tears.
Faith is trusting God through the tears.
It reminds us that peace is not the absence of storms.
Peace is knowing that we are not alone in them.
It reminds us that our circumstances do not determine the faithfulness of God.
God is faithful when the skies are bright.
God is faithful when the sea is calm.
And God is faithful when the waves are rolling over us.
It Is Well with My Soul
Perhaps that is why this hymn has become so precious to generations of Christians.
It gives us words for the moments when our own words disappear.
It takes the deepest sorrow and brings it before the cross.
It takes grief and places it within the larger story of redemption.
It takes fear and answers it with faith.
It takes death and looks beyond it to resurrection.
And it takes a wounded soul and teaches it to trust.
We may not always be able to say:
Everything is well with my circumstances.
But through Christ, we can learn to say:
It is well with my soul.
“Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.” — Isaiah 26:3
Until Next Tuesday
The great hymns of the Christian faith do more than preserve words from the past.
They become companions for the journey.
They give us language when we rejoice.
They give us language when we grieve.
They give us language when we worship.
Now unto the God of hope, fill you with all joy and peace in believing. — Romans 15:13
Horatio G. Spafford, 1873
Music by Philip P. Bliss, 1876
****************************
Master, the tempest is raging!
The billows are tossing high!
The sky is o'ershadow with blackness,
No shelter or help is nigh;
Carest Thou not that we perish?
How canst Thou lie asleep,
When each moment so madly is threatening
A grave in the angry deep?
Refrain
The winds and the waves shall obey Thy will,
Peace, be still!
Whether the wrath of the storm tossed sea,
Or demons or men, or whatever it be
No waters can swallow the ship where lies
The Master of ocean, and earth, and skies;
They all shall sweetly obey Thy will,
Peace, be still! Peace, be still!
They all shall sweetly obey Thy will,
Peace, peace, be still!
Master, with anguish of spirit
I bow in my grief today;
The depths of my sad heart are troubled
Oh, waken and save, I pray!
Torrents of sin and of anguish
Sweep o’er my sinking soul;
And I perish! I perish! dear Master
Oh, hasten, and take control. Refrain
Master, the terror is over,
The elements sweetly rest;
Earth’s sun in the calm lake is mirrored,
And heaven’s within my breast;
Linger, O blessèd Redeemer!
Leave me alone no more;
And with joy I shall make the blest harbor,
And rest on the blissful shore. Refrain
H Mary A. Baker, 1874:
And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full. And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow: and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish? And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. Mark 4:37-39
Comments