An illiterate young lay preacher started a series of meetings in a barn near Dublin, Ireland, one night many years ago. It was a discouraging meeting—so much so that the preacher closed the series right then and there and moved on to more fruitful fields. Only a handful of villagers came, and interest was at a low ebb. True, a young boy did come forward in response to the invitation, but no one seemed impressed. Why, that was only Gus! Certainly Gus would never set the world on fire.
Well, “Gus” did not set the world on fire. He became a leading minister in the Anglican Church. He wrote a number of books, but they have long since been extinct. He preached thousands of sermons. They are forgotten. He wrote 133 hymns. They, too, have not survived the years. Perhaps I had better amend that last statement. One hundred thirty-two of them have not survived the years.
No, Gus did not set the world on fire. You see, he died when he was only thirty-eight. We do not know how much he would have been able to do had he lived longer. As it was, he influenced only—well, offhand, I would say a few million.
But I should not be calling him Gus any more. He had a much more dignified name. If you want to know his full name, you can pick up a hymnal—oh, any one will do—Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian, Lutheran, Episcopal—yes, even Unitarian, Christian Science, Catholic—any hymnal—and you will find Gus’s name somewhere.
You will find it just above, or below, the hymn that is said to be “the best-known, best-loved, most widely used hymn ever written”—“Rock of Ages.”
From the smoke and din of many battlefields, from the sorrow and suffering of countless sickbeds, from the heights and depths of blessed experiences have come stories of strength, comfort, and joy derived from the Rock of Ages.
Maybe you could not say that Gus “set the world on fire,” but he—Angustus Montague Toplady—has touched more people than many a poet, scholar, king, or preacher of history.
Tradition tells us that Toplady wrote the hymn while taking shelter in a cave during a violent thunderstorm. That rock, located near Bristol, England, at Burrington Coombs, is the center of an annual celebration on November 4, Toplady’s birthday.
The Scriptural basis of the hymn may be found in the cleft of the rock of Exodus 33:22, the interpretation of the rock (1 Cor. 10:4), and the story of the crucifixion (John 19:34).
The stanzas of the hymn have been dissected to the last word by critics of several generations, and all manner of literary defects have been exposed. Yet for over a century and a half, in a dozen languages, in every part of the world, people of all classes have persisted in singing its simple yet profound message.
The following incidents illustrate the far-reaching influence of this hymn, “Rock of Ages,” and show how it has been quoted or sung in many a circumstance where all other popular songs have been totally forgotten.
Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me
Gladstone, that great statesman of the Victorian era, when he lay dying, was asked by those gathered around his bed, which song he would like them to sing to him. As they bent over him to hear his reply, the famous man whispered softly, “Rock of Ages, cleft for me.”
In My Hand No Price I Bring
A contemporary of Gladstone, Prince Albert, consort of Queen
“In my hand no price I bring;
Simply to Thy cross I cling.”
“You see,” he would explain, “I have had all that my heart could desire—wealth, honor, and fame—and yet, in this critical hour, how poor I should be if these worldly gifts were the only things on which I could depend.”
Simply to Thy Cross I Cling
A well-known London singer was wounded in the throat during the battle of the Marne in the First World War. He was faced with a serious operation. His surgeon told him that, as a result, he would lose the ability to speak. As the tragedy of the moment dawned upon him, the singer said slowly, “For twenty years I have been a singer. Soon I shall never be able to sing again. I should like to sing a song for the last time.” Those around him must have wondered which of the hundreds of songs in his repertoire he would choose. Then he began to sing the beautiful words of “Rock of Ages.” This had been his choice.
While I Draw This Fleeting Breath
In the England of many years ago, mine accidents were quite a frequent occurrence. After one such accident, it was reported that a number of miners were trapped in one of the shafts. After two days of searching, the rescuers heard the first signs of life. Hopefully they asked if anyone were there. “Yes,” came the faint reply, “but I am trapped. My feet are crushed under a rock.”
“Is anyone else with you?” was the next inquiry.
“Yes, Jesus is with me. I first came to know Him through a hymn my mother taught me.” Then through the darkness came a trembling voice singing, “While I draw this fleeting breath.” Those were his last words, for shortly after, his rescuers found him. There was a smile on his face, for he had gone to be with the one who had been his Rock for so long.
When My Eyes Shall Close in Death
If you had been with those Armenian Christians who escaped the massacre in Constantinople in 1866, you could have heard the words of this same song float across the Bay of Biscay as the doomed passengers of the sinking ship sang in unison as the ship went down.
Yes, “Rock of Ages” has been sung in the home of the famous; it has been sung by a worldly singer, most probably in a hospital ward; it has been heard wafted through the dark solitude of a mine shaft; it has floated across the waters as hundreds slowly sank to their grave.
--Congregational Methodist Messenger
