ORSBORNAGAIN (11)

A devotional series by Major Rob Birks

ORSBORNAGAIN is meant to introduce the poetry of the first Poet General, Albert Orsborn (1886-1967) to a new audience and to reintroduce his works to dyed-in-the-(tropical)-wool Salvationists.

These are not new songs.

However, the lyrics are jam-packed with new life, which may be missed during corporate worship. Re-examined through scripture and experience, Rob Birks intends through an examination of these scared songs to renew the spiritual fervor of believers, and point seekers to their Savior.

Silent and still I stand 

Before that weeping tree 

Whereon the Son of man 

Pours out his life for me. 

O sin of man! O love of God! 

O cleansing, efficacious flood! 

The Saviour asks no tears, 

Weep not for me, he cries; 

Yet all our broken years 

Are mirrored in his eys. 

And all our griefs, including mine, 

Go surging through that heart divine. 

Fain would I hide mine eyes 

From love so torn with pain; 

Yet all within me cries 

To look, and look again; 

I cannot pierce the mystery, 

But this I know: he dies for me. 

For me, and once for all, 

Our Saviour willing dies, 

As mercy’s tender call 

Rings out upon the skies; 

O man upon that weeping tree, 

In penitence we come to thee! 

Albert Orsborn 

198 The Eternal God, God the Son, The Suffering and death of Jesus

When we considered the first song in this collection, I mentioned the observation that Orsborn’s poetry is Christ-centric.  I would just add now that his writings are also cross-centric.  In fact, the cross of Christ never seemed to be far from the first Poet General’s thoughts when he thought of Christ (which seems to have been quite often).  There is no cause for alarm here, however, no reason to think that Orsborn didn’t believe in the resurrection of Christ.  It is interesting (to me, at least) to note that only one of his songs appears in the “Resurrection and Ascension” section of The Salvation Army Song Book.  But that song contains a beautifully strong description of Christ’s resurrection from the dead in the second verse: 

Not for long the grave prevailed; 

When the dreary night had paled 

Into God’s appointed day, 

Angels rolled the stone away. 

Christ, the Lord of truth and might, 

Faring forth in robes of light, 

Drove the fearful shades of loss 

From the garden near the cross. 

That verse, as well as the other two, ends “near the cross.”  The song begins with the line: “In the shadow of the cross.”  As I said, Orsborn’s work is Christ-centric as well as cross-centric.  So what?  So everything! 

Even if we only had this one song of Orsborn’s, it would be obvious that as he contemplated the cross of Christ, he was thoroughly convinced of its importance in God’s plan, and its impact on God’s people.  His writing makes it clear that while Jesus’ earthly life ended at the cross, that’s the where our lives begin: “Whereon the Son of man / Pours out his life for me.”  But Orsborn doesn’t take that life for granted.  He realizes it comes at a precious price. 

“Before we can begin to see the cross as something done for us, we have to see it as something done by us,” said evangelical leader John R.W. Stott (the late-great!).  Orsborn owns his part in Christ’s punishment.  He knows all too well that it was the “sin of man” that called for Christ’s crucifixion.  It was his own “broken years,” his own “griefs” that Christ bore as he bled.  In fact, he knows and regrets his part in the passion so strongly that he feels the need to look away from the cross, to hid his eyes “from love so torn with pain.”  But as bloody and brutal as the sight is, Orsborn is compelled “to look and look again” at the cross, at the Christ.  As Orsborn looks, all is not revealed to him.  The mysteries of the cross are deep (notice the use of the word “pierce” in verse three).  However, he is convinced of this one thing: Jesus died for Albert Orsborn! 

So what can we take away from this song, other than four verses that have a nice meter and some clever rhymes?  I suggest this:  We could do a whole lot worse than to follow Orsborn’s lead in contemplating the cross of Christ on a regular basis.  And when the question is asked from the traditional slave hymn, “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?,” may God give us the grace to raise our hands and not only admit to being there, but to playing our part in the passion.  Then, with Orsborn and with hundreds of thousands of cross-contemplators before and after him, may we hear “mercy’s tender call,” respond with repentance, and begin again. 

Then he said to them all:  “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23).