Dark water swirled, lapping at the sides of the huge ship that wasn’t supposed to sink, waiting to devour it like the monster it had turned into that night. A man stood on deck of the ship, gripping the hand of his pregnant wife. “You have to go. Take care of our baby.” John kissed his wife. “Come with us.” Tears streamed down her cheek, a hand on his chest, and one on her swollen stomach. “I have to help the others, do something. There isn’t space.” He squeezed her hand and gave her a soft nudge toward the edge of the ship. She nodded, turning and leaving him, her lips trembling. The man watched as she was lowered into the lifeboat with the other women and children. Not enough space for the men. But his wife, and his child, were safe. He watched as the boat disappeared into the distance, then turned to help others. He guided other women, other children to the lifeboat, making sure that every life that could be spared, would be. Death drew nearer, an end to the nightmare. The man pulled a cigar from his pocket and watched it glow as the ship was pulled deeper and deeper. As he stood there in the cold, the notes of the music he’d taken for granted in the first-class dining area so many times before now embraced him, filling his heart with hope as the familiar hymn brought tears to his eyes. Nearer, my God, to Thee… Despite having more money than he knew what to do with, none of that helped him now. He was on his own, left to face death, his fate, and God, along with the band, bringing comfort to those who faced the end. This man was John Jacob Astor IV. We can speculate the scene above. The hope that the song gave him as he watched the people closest to his heart go on ahead without him, living on. We don’t know for sure what happened during the last moments of John’s life. Some said he enjoyed a cigar as the ship sank, others that he stayed behind to help. Either way, we have to assume that the pain or hope he felt at being near the end are some of the deep emotions stirred by the beloved hymn, Nearer My God to Thee. How does this tragic scene tie into the history of the hymn? Well, this is how many of us remember it. I have to wonder, did Sarah Flower Adams ever imagine how important her song would become, not only to the passengers of the Titanic, but to the band that sank with it? To the many who remembered that tragedy with pain in their hearts for the loss? Chances are, she never did. She was born in Harlow, Essex, England, in 1805, one hundred and seven years before the Titanic sank. She wrote the hymn on request of her minister, Rev. William Johnson Fox. She was inspired by the story of Jacob’s ladder, a stairway to heaven while fleeing from danger. Perhaps this is the reason so many remember Titanic when we hear this hymn, because those on the Titanic were in great danger, facing death much earlier than they’d expected. Sarah wrote the lyrics, and her sister, Eliza, wrote the hymn arrangements. The two made many hymns together. Perhaps Sarah’s own struggles helped shape her hymn. She had fragile health, something that affected her deeply, and eventually took her to an early grave. Sarah Flower Adams died of tuberculosis on August 14, 1848, at the age of 43. Her hymn lives on, being heard in churches, at funerals, and in stories of the Titanic. An interesting fact is, people can’t be sure that the band of the Titanic played Nearer My God to Thee that horrific day. Some speculate it was the hymn Autumn instead. However, it will always be remembered in connection to the tragedy, to moments of sadness, but also moments where hope and a reminder of how close God is to us are needed. The verses Genesis 28:10-22 are the original inspiration for the hymn. I’ve put together my own version of Nearer My God to Thee on my channel, Jonathan Violin Hymns. Here it is if you’d like to listen to it.
Late into the evening in the early 1600s, a Protestant civil servant and poet sat at his desk in the city of Middelburg, an important city in the provinces fighting for independence from Spain. A feather quill scratched across his paper, writing down words of gratitude, and a smile lifted his lips as he completed another folk song for his collection. His spirits lifted as he imagined children and communities singing the song, bringing them together in a time of joy and celebration after the Battle of Turnhout in 1597, one of the significant victories in the Dutch struggle for independence from Spain. That man’s name was Adrianus Valerius. Of course, I can’t really know his state of mind while writing this song, but we can imagine. The Dutch hadn’t fully gained independence, but the Battle of Turnhout, where they’d driven out the Spanish army from the Southern Netherlands, was a major first step. Adrianus wrote the song as part of his work compiling poetry and folk songs to preserve Dutch culture during the war for independence. It was a passion of his, even though it wasn’t his primary profession. It wasn’t until 1871 when Edward Kremser, an Austrian composer and music teacher, created a choral arrangement that helped spread the hymn throughout Europe. He was well known for his arrangements of folk songs and hymns. Edward cared a lot about reviving and preserving folk melodies and is a big reason why the hymn became so well known. We Gather Together had not yet reached American churches or Thanksgiving tables, and it still had a long way to go in its journey to becoming a beloved hymn. In 1894, Theodore Baker, a skilled translator, provided one of the early English translations of the hymn. The hymn gradually gained popularity after becoming available in English. It’s not surprising that in 1903, Dr. Henry Van Dyke, a Presbyterian minister translated it yet again. This is the translation that is most widely used in Churches and homes across the United States and the world today. Thanksgiving is when a lot of people enjoy singing it, but it also circulates hymn books and Christian communities. While putting together my cover of We Gather Together, I enjoyed staying true to the original melody and simplicity as much as possible. It’s always a goal of mine with the Jonathan Violin Hymns channel, to stay true to origins, bringing older hymns to life when possible. While it will always remind me of Thanksgiving, now when I read the lyrics, sometimes I think of Adrianus Valerius and the true gratitude filling his heart as he wrote the words. I imagine the streets of his city, how the people prayed for deliverance from an enemy that they’d fought for more than eighty years. They trusted in God to guide them, and with this song, gave thanks for a key victory that lifted their spirits as they continued on with their long battle for independence. A battle ultimately won in 1648 with the signing of the Treaty of Westphalia. My rendition is below, as well as the lyrics, so you can appreciate them with the image of Adrianus writing at his polished wooden desk with a feather quill, and a prayer on his heart. Thank you for reading!