01-19-2008, 02:38 PM
The internet is indeed an amazing place of discovery.:clap:
I was reading the biography of John G. WhitÂtiÂer who wrote the hymn:
DEAR LORD AND FATHER OF MANKIND in 1872.
Strangely, it was not the intention of Whittier to write a hymn since he was a Quaker and was against hymn-singing in general.
The hymn was taken from a rather long poem by Whittier entitled:
The Brewing of Soma
As one editor (from the above link) observed:
I was reading the biography of John G. WhitÂtiÂer who wrote the hymn:
DEAR LORD AND FATHER OF MANKIND in 1872.
Strangely, it was not the intention of Whittier to write a hymn since he was a Quaker and was against hymn-singing in general.
The hymn was taken from a rather long poem by Whittier entitled:
The Brewing of Soma
As one editor (from the above link) observed:
Quote:
My first exposure to this poem was when our public-school choir performed it back in the mid-1960s. (Yes, back in the days when America wasn’t anti-Christian, we could and did sing about God in public school.) The hymn Dear Lord and Father of Mankind is taken from the closing verses of The Brewing of Soma, starting at verse 11.
Some readers at first may wonder why this poem is included with all the other sacred poems on this web site. As the reader penetrates through the first nine verses, he encounters a beverage called soma, an intoxicating, almost hallucinogenic, brew used in Hindu religious festivals in Whittier’s time. The poet compares the soma-induced frenzied madness with experiences (be they ecstatic or ascetic) in other religions. Then in verse 11 (where fane is an old word for church) we suddenly realize Whittier’s true target and his proffered panacea.
I cannot help but read this poem and experience it as a prophetic indictment of the glitz, glamour, hype, and the irreverent, boisterous soulishness of many so-called “Spirit-filled†meetings.
Some readers at first may wonder why this poem is included with all the other sacred poems on this web site. As the reader penetrates through the first nine verses, he encounters a beverage called soma, an intoxicating, almost hallucinogenic, brew used in Hindu religious festivals in Whittier’s time. The poet compares the soma-induced frenzied madness with experiences (be they ecstatic or ascetic) in other religions. Then in verse 11 (where fane is an old word for church) we suddenly realize Whittier’s true target and his proffered panacea.
I cannot help but read this poem and experience it as a prophetic indictment of the glitz, glamour, hype, and the irreverent, boisterous soulishness of many so-called “Spirit-filled†meetings.
Interestingly, the drug that is featured in Aldous Huxley's futuristic novel "Brave New World" is called "Soma"
Quotes from Huxley's novel:
Quote:
"All the advantages of Christianity and alcohol; none of their defects."
Quote:
"..there is always soma, delicious soma, half a gramme for a half-holiday, a gramme for a week-end, two grammes for a trip to the gorgeous East, three for a dark eternity on the moon..."
Quote:
"The service had begun. The dedicated soma tablets were placed in the centre of the table. The loving cup of strawberry ice-cream soma was passed from hand to hand and, with the formula, "I drink to my annihilation," twelve times quaffed."
Quote:
"By this time the soma had begun to work. Eyes shone, cheeks were flushed, the inner light of universal benevolence broke out on every face in happy, friendly smiles. Even Bernard felt himself a little melted."
Quote:
""By his heretical views on sport and soma, by the scandalous unorthodoxy of his sex-life, by his refusal to obey the teachings of Our Ford and behave out of office hours, 'even as a little infant,'" (here the Director made the sign of the T), "he has proved himself an enemy of Society, a subverter, ladies and gentlemen, of all Order and Stability, a conspirator against Civilization itself. For this reason I propose to dismiss him, to dismiss him with ignominy from the post he has held in this Centre...""
Some background information about the setting for Whittier's poem is provided by Curt Oliver, choirmaster and organist:
Quote:
The year was 1872, the same year as our Plymouth Church hymn – All things are thine. The holy rollers came to Whittier’s town and set up their tents. There weren’t like today’s Pentecostals, with praise choruses and gentle waving of hands. These were folks who yelled and screamed…in fact the more noise you made and the more wildly you danced, the more righteous and holy you were assumed to be. You’d throw a spiritual tantrum. You’d get so heated up with the Holy Spirit that sometimes you had to tear off some of your clothes. It was a kind of raucous religious oneupmanship.
Whittier didn’t buy it. In fact, it was the opposite of his understanding of worship. We might think of this as the worship wars of the 1870’s – and we have our own worship wars today. There are never any easy or absolute answers.
So Whittier published an opinion piece in the form of a poem, “The Brewing of Soma.†He wrote that a radical group of Hindu priests marched off into the forest to brew a magic potion called Soma. When they drank it they imagined they were seeing visions of the gods. They danced and screamed and rent their garments. But in fact, all they were doing was scaring the cattle. The final stanzas of this longer poem are the words of our hymn.
Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
Forgive our foolish ways;
Reclothe us in our rightful mind,
In purer lives Thy service find,
In deeper reverence, praise.
In simple trust like theirs who heard,
Beside the Syrian sea,
The gracious calling of the Lord,
Let us, like them, without a word,
Rise up and follow Thee.
O Sabbath rest by Galilee,
O calm of hills above,
Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee
The silence of eternity,
Interpreted by love!
With that deep hush subduing all
Our words and works that drown
The tender whisper of Thy call,
As noiseless let Thy blessing fall
As fell Thy manna down.
Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
Till all our strivings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of Thy peace.
Breathe through the heats of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
O still, small voice of calm.
Whittier didn’t buy it. In fact, it was the opposite of his understanding of worship. We might think of this as the worship wars of the 1870’s – and we have our own worship wars today. There are never any easy or absolute answers.
So Whittier published an opinion piece in the form of a poem, “The Brewing of Soma.†He wrote that a radical group of Hindu priests marched off into the forest to brew a magic potion called Soma. When they drank it they imagined they were seeing visions of the gods. They danced and screamed and rent their garments. But in fact, all they were doing was scaring the cattle. The final stanzas of this longer poem are the words of our hymn.
Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
Forgive our foolish ways;
Reclothe us in our rightful mind,
In purer lives Thy service find,
In deeper reverence, praise.
In simple trust like theirs who heard,
Beside the Syrian sea,
The gracious calling of the Lord,
Let us, like them, without a word,
Rise up and follow Thee.
O Sabbath rest by Galilee,
O calm of hills above,
Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee
The silence of eternity,
Interpreted by love!
With that deep hush subduing all
Our words and works that drown
The tender whisper of Thy call,
As noiseless let Thy blessing fall
As fell Thy manna down.
Drop Thy still dews of quietness,
Till all our strivings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of Thy peace.
Breathe through the heats of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,
O still, small voice of calm.
I thought that this was an interesting glimmer into the mind of the poet.:read:
Love to all, Rez:giverose: