United Methodist

Charles Wesley, song writer extraordinaire and co-founder of Methodism, was born 300 years ago today. In his honor and memory I post my favorite hymn/poem of his. Titled Come, O Thou Traveler Unknown in the United Methodist hymnal, the poem Wrestling Jacob is an extended meditation on Jacob’s encounter with an angel or God at the Jabbok brook. It is said that Isaac Watts was particularly drawn to this hymn and once exclaimed, “That single poem Wrestling Jacob is worth all the verses I have ever written.”There is another story that is also associated with this hymn. Two weeks after Charles had died, his brother John Wesley was teaching this hymn to the Methodists at Bolton, Lancashire. He did not, however, get very far, for as soon as he came to the last two lines of the first stanza, he broke down. The lines: “My company before is gone,
And I am left alone with thee.” This image of Father John weeping over his departed brother has never ceased to move me.

Most hymnals, including the United Methodist hymnal, only include 4 verses of this great work to be sung. There are, however, fourteen stanzas total (thankfully the UMC hymnal prints these separate from the hymn), and they are an extended dialogue between Jacob and the mysterious one with whom he wrestles. But enough of all this, here, without further ado or commentary, is (in my opinion) Charles Wesley’s greatest hymn.

Wrestling Jacob
Charles Wesley
(1707-1788)

Come, O Thou Traveller unknown,
Whom still I hold, but cannot see,
My company before is gone,
And I am left alone with Thee;
With Thee all night I mean to stay
And wrestle till the Break of Day.

I need not tell Thee who I am,
My Misery, or Sin, declare,
Thyself hast call’d me by my Name,
Look on Thy hand and read it there;
But who, I ask Thee, who art Thou?
Tell me Thy name, and tell me now!

In vain Thou strugglest to get free,
I never will unloose my Hold:
Art Thou the Man that died for me?
The Secret of Thy Love unfold;
Wrestling I will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know.

Wilt Thou not yet to me reveal
Thy new, unutterable Name?
Tell me, I still beseech Thee, tell,
To know it Now resolv’d I am;
Wrestling I will not let Thee go
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know.

’Tis all in vain to hold Thy Tongue,
Or touch the Hollow of my Thigh:
Though every Sinew be unstrung,
Out of my Arms Thou shalt not fly;
Wrestling I will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know.

What tho’ my shrinking Flesh complain,
And murmur to contend so long,
I rise superior to my pain,
When I am weak then I am strong,
And when my All of Strength shall fail,
I shall with the God-man prevail.

My Strength is gone, my Nature dies,
I sink beneath Thy weighty Hand,
Faint to revive, and fall to rise;
I fall, and yet by Faith I stand,
I stand, and will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know.

Yield to me Now—for I am weak,
But confident in Self-despair:
Speak to my Heart, in Blessing speak,
Be conquer’d by my instant Prayer,
Speak, or Thou never hence shalt move,
And tell me, if Thy Name is Love.

’Tis Love, ’tis Love! Thou diedst for Me,
I hear Thy Whisper in my Heart.
The Morning breaks, the Shadows flee:
Pure Universal Love Thou art;
To me, to All Thy Mercies move —
Thy Nature, and Thy Name is Love.

My Prayer hath Power with God; the Grace
Unspeakable I now receive;
Thro’ Faith I see Thee Face to Face,
I see Thee Face to Face, and live:
In vain I have not wept, and strove,
Thy Nature, and Thy Name is Love.

I know Thee, Saviour, Who Thou art,
Jesus, the feeble Sinner’s Friend;
Nor wilt Thou with the Night depart,
But stay, and love me to the End;
Thy Mercies never shall remove,
Thy Nature, and Thy Name is Love.

The Sun of Righteousness on Me
Hath rose with Healing in His Wings,
Wither’d my Nature’s Strength; from Thee
My Soul it’s life and Succour brings,
My Help is all laid up above;
Thy Nature and Thy Name is Love.

Contented now upon my Thigh
I halt, till Life’s short Journey end;
All Helplessness, all Weakness I,
On Thee alone on Strength depend,
Nor have I Power from Thee to move;
Thy Nature, and Thy Name is Love.

Lame as I am, I take the Prey,
Hell, earth, and sin with ease o’ercome;
I leap for joy, pursue my way,
And as a bounding hart fly home,
Through all eternity to prove
Thy nature and Thy Name is Love.

Technorati tags: Charles Wesley, birthday, 300 anniversary, “Come, O Thou Traveller Unknown