Tell me Tennessee DUers...about Chatanooga.

Dear Friends,

After hearing less-than-favorable responses from several in the choir and congregation about the "tampered with" second stanza of last Sunday's middle hymn, "This Is My Father's World," I thought I'd offer some background on the hymn and its selection.

By the way, the offending phrase from the second stanza is: "He trusts us with his world, to keep it clean and fair -- all earth and trees, all skies and seas, all creatures everywhere."

The hymn was written by Maltbie Babcock -- pastor of New York's Brick Presbyterian Church and successor to Henry Van Dyke (of "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee" fame). If you want to read more about Maltbie, go to: http://www.cyberhymnal.org/bio/b/a/b/babcock_md.htm

The person who did the tampering is Mary Babcock Crawford -- presumably Maltbie's granddaughter, inasmuch as he died in 1901 and she was born in 1909. All that was altered were the final three lines of stz. 3 below.) To the best of my knowledge, this revision occurred in the mid-to-late '70s -- perhaps around the time when gas "sky-rocketed" to 60-cents a gallon! Remember year-round daylight saving time? 55 mph speed limit? Downsizing of cars by the "Big Three?"

"This Is My Father's World" was one of several hymns I suggested to Mickey for his selection to tie in with Sunday's sermon, "What Would Jesus Say to 'Big Oil'?" The message I got from Mickey's sermon was, "We are responsible for how we use God's creation. We have control (to a certain degree) of how much things cost. We have a choice." My inference: "As a steward of God's creation, what choices will I make?"

As I now prepare a list of hymn suggestions for, "What Would Jesus Say to Dan Brown (Da Vinci Code guy)?" pray that I may find another one that gets us thinking/talking!

Here's the complete original Babcock hymn:

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This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears
All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;
His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;
He speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world: the battle is not done:
Jesus Who died shall be satisfied,
And earth and Heav’n be one.

This is my Father’s world, dreaming, I see His face.
I ope my eyes, and in glad surprise cry, “The Lord is in this place.”
This is my Father’s world, from the shining courts above,
The Beloved One, His Only Son,
Came—a pledge of deathless love.

This is my Father’s world, should my heart be ever sad?
The lord is King—let the heavens ring. God reigns—let the earth be glad.
This is my Father’s world. Now closer to Heaven bound,
For dear to God is the earth Christ trod.
No place but is holy ground.

This is my Father’s world. I walk a desert lone.
In a bush ablaze to my wondering gaze God makes His glory known.
This is my Father’s world, a wanderer I may roam
Whate’er my lot, it matters not,
My heart is still at home.

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At another time, I'll offer a discourse on why I believe we become so upset when encountering hymns/creeds that are altered from what we learned as children...

SC