Abide with me

I need thy presence every passing hour.

What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power?

Who like thyself my guide and strength can be?

Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me.

—Henry Francis Lyte, 1847

Just as the weather can’t quite seem to figure out what season it is, so it sometimes goes with our souls. Anticipating one thing, we are met with its opposite. Smooth sailing turns into stormy seas. Or, alternatively, light breaks into the shadows, giving us enough to hold on to for one more day.

The poem-turned-hymn “Abide with Me” is much beloved, though often reserved for memorial services. To be sure, several of the verses reflect on the nearness of death, a subject our spiritual forebearers seemed more ready to approach than we often are.

But perhaps what draws us into this text is how the author puts life and death so close to one another. The need of God is not only at the end, but at “every passing hour,” in “cloud and sunshine.” Whether facing loneliness, disintegration, death, or day-to-day temptations, the plea is the same: “abide with me.”

It’s a simple prayer, but a powerful one. It’s a prayer that keeps us faithful, attuned to a presence that is greater than ourselves. It doesn’t ask for easy answers, quick fixes, or a return to “normal,” whatever that was. It says simply, “be here, God.”

As we draw ever closer to Holy Week, we will soon find that same prayer extended in our direction. Jesus, in his hour of need, pleaded with his disciples to stay awake, to abide with him. Though they were perhaps less than faithful in response, the invitation to abide with God remains. Faith, it turns out, is a two-way street. God desires our abiding presence, just as we often desire God’s.

So as we pray, our simple, yet persistent, “abide with us” prayers, we might imagine God responding, “I’m happy to. And I’m glad you’re with me, too.”

Thanks be to God, God is still speaking.

Pastor Jen