But there's one more page. Yet another poem, a few stanzas from a hymn.
Must Jesus bear the cross alone,
And all the world go free?
No, there’s a cross for everyone,
And there’s a cross for me.
How happy are the saints above,
Who once went sorrowing here!
But now they taste unmingled love,
And joy without a tear.
The consecrated cross I’ll bear
Till death shall set me free;
And then go home my crown to wear,
For there’s a crown for me.
Upon the crystal pavement down
At Jesus’ piercèd feet,
Joyful I’ll cast my golden crown
And His dear Name repeat.
O precious cross! O glorious crown!
O resurrection day!
When Christ the Lord from Heav’n comes down
And bears my soul away.
Strangely, Grandpa Schaap chooses to write only two of the stanzas in this note --the first and the third. Why?
I wonder if one answer might be suggested by the roots of the hymn itself. According to some sources, the original text belongs to Thomas Shepherd (1665-1739), a separatist, like the pilgrims, who published some poetry in 1693 under the title "Penitential Cries." The first stanza of the poem reads like this:
Shall Jesus bear the Cross alone,
And other Saints be free?
Each Saint of thine shall find his own,
And there is one for me.
He determined, I'm sure, that the cross he and his wife bore was the death of their first-born, something they certainly did not suffered willingly, a cross of profound human suffering. In Agnes's death, they'd shared suffering.
Grandpa may well have been suggesting that by way of Nelson's death, his mother and father know better what Christ himself suffered. Your son's death brings you closer to Calvary. . .
But Easter too. After all, Grandpa chooses only to write in the first verse and the third. This is what he says to introduce the lines: "I also have in mind these stanzas." He doesn't call it a hymn, even though he had to know it was. He doesn't advise them to sing it. He simply says that he "has in mind" these particular stanzas, then gives them just these two:
Must Jesus bear the cross alone,
And all the world go free?
No: there's a cross for everyone,
And there's a cross for me.
This consecrated cross I'll bear
Till death shall set me free.
And then go home, my crown to wear,
For there's a crown for me.
Cross and crown create an almost eerie rhyme, even though one suggests torture and the other, victory. By cutting the other stanzas, Grandpa Schaap shaped what he believed to most comforting consolation from the old hymn: that somehow, someway, that cross will someday be a crown.
I don't think Grandpa Schaap would have wanted to suggest that because Nelson's parents are suffering, they would reign forever at God's right hand; that equation would be a form of works righteousness that left grace out of the picture.
But what he didn't want the boy's grieving parents to miss is that someday there will be an end to death and grief. That may be the truth his editing is meant to serve. The hope of all our suffering is the promised crown, a comfort and assurance he himself relied on in the grief that made his wife sit beside him, drying her tears, at the news of a little boy’s death—that's what made him write a letter and quote two poems.
"Well, dear friends," he says in conclusion, "may God uphold you and strengthen you. This is our wish and prayer. J. C. Schaap and Wife.
No "Rev." and an upper-case W.
A woman in Michigan took it upon herself to send me a 100-year old letter her parents could never bring themselves to toss; and when she did, she gave me a beloved sermon on five small sheets of paper, a sermon my grandpa wrote from the pained heart of his own experience.
He could not have imagined that someday, a century later, his grandson would be reading that note, writing these words, or sharing them with you.
No comments:
Post a Comment