For the past few weeks, I’ve populated the entries in my ongoing series, Then Sings My Soul: The Hymns of My Youth, with more recent or modern selections. This week it’s time for something more traditional. The words to “And Can it Be that I Should Gain” were written in 1738 by Charles Wes­ley, and it is sung to the tune of “Sa­gi­na”, by Thom­as Camp­bell in 1825. The selection is reported to be one of the favorite hymns of Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury. Evidently Wesley penned the lyrics not long after his conversion. He had been sick, and on May 20, 1738, God spoke to him through a vision after he had been reading his Bible for some period of time. He wrote in his journal,

At midnight I gave myself up to Christ: assured I was safe, sleeping or waking. I had continued experience of his power to overcome all temptation; and confessed, with joy and surprise, that he was able to do exceedingly abundantly for me, above what I can ask or think.

This is one of those hymns which brims with wonder and resounds with gospel truth. They don’t write them much like that anymore. Boldly approaching the throne, mercy immense and free. These are lyrics upon which one can — and should — spend time feasting and meditating. I love the line, “‘Tis mystery all,” which inspires me to see the depth and limitlessness of which the rest of the lyrics speak. “No condemnation now [we] dread.”

And Can it Be that I Should Gain

And can it be that I should gain
An interest in the Savior’s blood?
Died He for me, who caused His pain—
For me, who Him to death pursued?
Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

’Tis mystery all: th’Immortal dies:
Who can explore His strange design?
In vain the firstborn seraph tries
To sound the depths of love divine.
’Tis mercy all! Let earth adore,
Let angel minds inquire no more.
’Tis mercy all! Let earth adore;
Let angel minds inquire no more.

He left His Father’s throne above
So free, so infinite His grace—
Emptied Himself of all but love,
And bled for Adam’s helpless race:
’Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!
’Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!

Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
Fast bound in sin and nature’s night;
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray—
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.

Still the small inward voice I hear,
That whispers all my sins forgiven;
Still the atoning blood is near,
That quenched the wrath of hostile Heaven.
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.

No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in Him, is mine;
Alive in Him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach th’eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Bold I approach th’eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.

If you’ve got the tune in your mind as you read, you’ll no doubt be stuck with “claim”, “crown”, and “Christ” as three-syllable words for the rest of the day. ;^)

‘Tis mystery, all.