August 09, 2007

In Defense of “In the Garden”

You’re really not somebody among the theologically cool unless you’ve bashed “I Come to the Garden Alone.” I’ve seen this song sneered at in the Modern Reformation magazine, by John MacArthur, and by a number of Calvinistic, book-ish experts. It is so common to piously denigrate this song that it is almost cliché. The assumption is that no theologically-sound serious thinker would tolerate such mystical pap. MacArthur is brutal. “I can hardly think of a contemporary song that is more banal than the beloved old stand-by, ‘In the Garden,’” he fumes. He practically sneers at the poor saps that dare to enjoy the song: “Those lyrics say nothing of any real substance, and what they do say is not particularly Christian. It’s a mawkish little rhyme about someone’s personal experience and feelings – and even at that, it proclaims a pretty airy and ambiguous message. Whereas the classic hymns sought to glorify God, gospel songs such as ‘In the Garden’ were glorifying raw sentimentality.”

I dissent. The song is a good song. And though I generally like MacArthur, he reveals the Achilles heal of popular Calvinism: a dreaded fear of and condescending disdain for the subjective. It is no mystery to me why so many Reformed churches lie cold dead within a couple of generations when it is assumed that the embracing of the objective precludes all that is subjective. John Owen and other great Puritan theologians were right, I think, when they emphasized objective assurance by the application of biblical syllogisms but nonetheless encouraged believers to hope for “intuitive assurance.” But I digress. This is about defending a song, a song that admittedly holds sentimental value to me because I sang it with my dying grandfather mere weeks before he went to Glory.

I like the song, and I feel sorry for the book-ish frozen chosen whose imaginations are so shriveled and cold that they cannot conceive of authentic spiritual relationship being illustrated by a garden walk. For me, the song (at least the first verse) elicits true thoughts and feelings about private worship. Private, I say. Therefore, while I would concur that this is a song that should not be song congregationally, I regret that many Christians, particularly the elderly, are being made to feel as if they are somehow theologically dull because the song is special to them. It is not “mawkish” if it poetically describes deeper feelings. “I Come to the Garden Alone” describes the wholesome communion that is actually experienced, if not aspired to, by many of God’s children.

Here’s how I see it.

I come to the garden alone

Alone. Solitude is so refreshing and invigorating. It is the best place to meet God. And, in many ways, there is a mystical loneliness in the pursuit of holiness. It is the lonely duty of every Christian to make sure he does not lose fellowship with God, Oswald Sanders said. And Sanders was right even though he too was of the Deeper Life persuasion. Private communion and devotion has been the practice and longing of all of God’s children ever since John was in the Spirit (presumably alone) on the Isle of Patmos on the Lord’s Day.

Many of God’s people even found special places, places where they always met God. Mark Minnick brought this to our attention at the last Whetstone Conference. Though it is not commanded, it is probably wise, to set apart a special place for private communion with God. If there is actually a place or if it is only a moment in time, those of us who have had our hearts warmed by the Word of God and spiritual communion should not be too alarmed by the metaphor of a quiet garden.

While the dew is still on the roses

Morning is the best time for worship, I think. And I am not the only one. Throughout the ages Christians have found morning time to be a special time. In fact, it isn’t hard to browse through the pages of Church history and peruse messages and exhortations to make the early morning the designated time of personal worship. The time when “the dew is still on the roses.”

And the voice I hear falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses.

C. Austin Miles surely was not claiming to hear an audible voice, as surely as he was not implying that what one imagines trumps the Written Word of God. Obviously, he was Keswik in his thinking (I surmise this by reading other songs by him), but those of us who have an experiential view of progressive sanctification may think of this as what the Puritans considered “intuitive assurance.” Certainly the promises of Scripture are made precious to us by the mediatorial work of the Son of God. He is with us. His voice is His Word, and I would go further and say that the burning of our hearts, that intuitive assurance, though rare if ever, is a delightful treasure of close communion.” Did not our hearts burn within us?

I think there is nothing wrong with describing devotional communion this way. It is peace, subjective peace. And even calculating academics enjoy the treasure of subjective peace from time to time.

He speaks, and the sound of His voice is so sweet the birds hush their singing,

There are few sounds that I enjoy more than the sound of singing birds when I awake in the morning. Yet, when God ministers to my heart through His Word it is as if the birds hush their singing. Or, as another song says it, “Turn your eyes upon Jesus and the things of earth will grow strangely dim.” Who will mock the simpleton that actually sings, “the things of earth will grow strangely dim?” Things don’t actually grow dim, of course. We all know that. It’s poetry. But things lose their power to distract us when we meditate on Christ. Thus, a quiet time with the Lord in His Holy Word seems to transport us to Another World, a place that we see only by faith.

And the melody that He gave to me within my heart is ringing.

Make melody in your heart to the Lord. This is reminiscent of Paul’s exhortation in Ephesians. It’s the Holy Spirit, not Austin Miles, that invented the concept of a melody in our hearts. And how else is one going to get that melody, or hear it over the din of worldly noise, without prayer and time in the Word?

And He walks with me, and talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known.

I love the assuring presence of Jesus. I love to be told I am His very own. He is my Shepherd and I know His voice. He knows me. There is no communion like sharing joy and there is something very personal and utterly impossible to convey about the happiness of personal intimacy with a Forgiving God. By saying, “none other has ever known,” one is not pretending to be on a higher plain. He is merely saying, “I can’t even begin to describe it.” It is joy unspeakable. The proverb is right: “The heart knoweth his own bitterness; and a stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy” (Proverbs 14:10). Some joy (as well as some sorrow) is of such a kind that no one can fully appreciate it with us. This is probably why the song is best for personal use.

I would readily grant that “In the Garden” is not a good congregational song. It is not a hymn. But it is a good song and one that, for many dear saints, accurately and awkwardly describes something they know so well but don’t know how to say. Perhaps we would be wisest if we considered some of these songs with the same kind of mindset that C.S. Lewis had when he was in his tool shed.

I was standing today in the dark toolshed. The sun was shining outside and through the crack at the top of the door there came a sunbeam. From where I stood that beam of light, with the specks of dust floating in it, was the most striking thing in the place. Everything else was almost pitch-black. I was seeing the beam, not seeing things by it. Then I moved so that the beam fell on my eyes. Instantly the whole previous picture vanished. I saw no toolshed, and (above all) no beam. Instead I saw, framed in the irregular cranny at the top of the door, green leaves moving on the branches of a tree outside and beyond that, 90 odd million millions away, the sun. Looking along the beam, and looking at the beam are very different experiences.

When I hear “In the Garden,” I tend to look along the beam instead of looking at the beam. And I think that makes all the difference.

Posted by Bob Bixby at August 9, 2007 10:08 PM | eMail this entry! | 1506 Words
This entry was posted in the following categories: Confessions
Comments

I’m with you on this one. You touch on something important, I think, in the 2nd paragraph of this article.

Thanks for the thoughts here, Bob…for some reason I’m surprised at your take on this….

Posted by: Ellis at August 9, 2007 10:44 PM

In the words of Miles himself:I read…the sto­ry of the great­est morn in his­to­ry: “The first day of the week com­eth Ma­ry Mag­da­lene ear­ly, while it was yet ve­ry dark, unto the se­pul­cher.” In­stant­ly, com­plet­ely, there un­fold­ed in my mind the scenes of the gar­den of Jo­seph….Out of the mists of the gar­den comes a form, halt­ing, he­si­tat­ing, tear­ful, seek­ing, turn­ing from side to side in be­wil­der­ing amaze­ment. Fal­ter­ing­ly, bear­ing grief in ev­e­ry ac­cent, with tear-dimmed eyes, she whis­pers, “If thou hast borne him hence”… “He speaks, and the sound of His voice is so sweet the birds hush their sing­ing.” Je­sus said to her, “Mary!” Just one word from his lips, and for­got­ten the heart­aches, the long drea­ry hours….all the past blot­ted out in the pre­sence of the Liv­ing Pre­sent and the Eter­nal Fu­ture.

I also find it interesting, Bob, you didn’t comment on the 3rd stanza’s significance:
I’d stay in the garden with Him
Though the night around me be falling,
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.

The thing that seems obvious to me is that there is a sense of love and closeness here- but it is a love that is obviously feminine. If these words were being shared between two lovers (“he walks with me, and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own”), they would obviously be picturing a feminine perspective of love. Even changing the gender of the pronouns, a man would not sing in such a way of “his woman”- he would assure her of his love, rejoice in the fact that she had given her heart to him, or at the very least, would say “Baby please beeeeeeeeeeee mine!”

That’s why I personally don’t like the song. It does speak of a closeness, an intimacy with God- but it is the wrong kind of love. Why would God bid us go through the voice of woe, like two lovers having to end their secret rendezvous for fear of being discovered?

But here is a better picture of the love the Bride should have for her Bridegroom:

The Bride eyes not her garment, but her dear Bridegroom’s face;

I will not gaze at glory but on my King of grace.

Not at the crown He giveth but on His pierced hand;

The Lamb is all the glory of Immanuel’s land.

Posted by: Greg Linscott at August 9, 2007 10:44 PM

Greg,

Wow! I don’t know what to say. This is beyond sad.

Your response reminds me of the Pharisees. I’m not calling you a Pharisee……but it does remind me of the Pharisees. You see they couldn’t enjoy a vibrant relationship with God in part because of their propensity to read “into” the law……”beyond” the law…constructing “extra” law, etc…

The verse that bothers you speaks of the Christian experience. Most believers who have walked with God have experienced dark hours when their beloved Savior ministers sweetly to them. Frankly the third verse rings of this intimate relationship with Christ……which does not remind most worshippers of the love characterized by two lovers……nor speaks of just the feminine view of love (Wow!).

Greg….you remind me of many I have meet who are afraid of Christian experience. You will hear them accuse any and all experience as reflected in this third verse of “In the Garden” as “Pietism” or “Mysticism.” Greg…you got to get over that……I’m hopeful that as you grow older and more experienced in your faith….you will get over it.

I can assure you, if you were to show these verses to God’s men and women who have spent a life time of devotion, they would help you get over your fear of these poorly-written gospel songs (and I don’t know that you have that attitude towards others…..but I have a sneaky suspicion that if you have a negative view of this gospel song…..you probably have a negative view on a whole host of others).

Most believers when they sing a gospel song like this….assume the best and think Biblically about the words. They don’t read unbiblical interpretations into the song. But musical pharisees (and I’m not calling you this yet) do this sort of thing. They postulate about the “jot and title” of musicology and then cast aspersions on the writers and singers who have experienced Godly Worship with the help of songs that might not be written to the man-made standards of what meets the characteristics of quote-in-quote, “good music.”

Greg…..I plead with you….don’t follow this stream and tendency like too many of a certain mindset. The end of this “tendency” is a kind of musical neo-pharisaism that creates ever increasing amounts of musical elitism. It’s careless….It’s really, really sad.

Greg….you guys have cults in Maine….stay focused on defeating them! I don’t think you need to spend as much time fighting your hymnal.

Straight Ahead!

Joel

Posted by: Joel Tetreau at August 10, 2007 12:33 AM

Bob —- You’re in for it, brother! I can just see Dissidens now, in all his sarcastic splendor, rousing himself from his Bach-ian lair to issue a full-on blast of this post. Should be fun!

And I agree with you.

Posted by: Kent McCune at August 10, 2007 07:33 AM

I don’t think you need to spend as much time fighting your hymnal.

Joel,

First, I would love for you to explain to me how most people “think biblically” about that third verse.

Second, I reject the notion that dismissing this song automatically means you’re not concerned with “Christian Experience.” I would vehemently object to that. Please, try to tell me that hymns such as those of Cowper, Newton, Wesley, or Kelly aren’t concerned with “Piety”? My brother, I just don’t think it will stick.

Look at it this way. If we are training our people to love God with all their heart, soul, mind and strength, we don’t want to affirm (at the very least) poor or incomplete ways of conceiving how they are to love Him. Think of how we pray- I doubt very much you are “content” to stand in the pulpit leading the congregation in prayer by saying, “Dear God, thank You for this day. please ‘be’ with all our missionaries. Thank You for all the things You do for us. ‘Be’ with us today. In Jesus Name Amen.” Could such a prayer be prayed sincerely? Perhaps. But it also could be vastly improved upon- and should be, in the life of a maturing believer.

Again, at the very least, I would say this is true of the song in question. Many people love this song because it speaks of a sort of intimacy with God, true. Many people rightly long for that sense of intimacy (though I would argue many more people also enjoy the song because it was recorded by Elvis… but I digress). But again, I would say, that they are looking for the wrong kind of intimacy and experience if this is the way they conceive of it. Consider how Newton’s description of intimacy contrasts with that of Miles:

With him sweet converse I maintain,

Great as he is I dare be free;

I tell him all my grief and pain,

And he reveals his love to me.

Some cordial from his word he brings,

Whene’er my feeble spirit faints;

At once my soul revives and sings,

And yields no more to sad complaints.

I pity all that worldlings talk

Of pleasures that will quickly end;

Be this my choice, O Lord, to walk

With thee, my Guide, my Guard, my Friend.

You don’t have to give a hearty “Amen” to my analysis. I’ll still talk to you, Joel. But please don’t accuse me of being unconcerned with closeness with God, or of being some kind of joyless neo-Pharisee. Rejecting the language of “In The Garden” doesn’t mean I love God less any more than rejecting the language of “A Groovy Kind of Love” means I don’t love my wife. To the contrary, it is because I love both deeply and profoundly that I wish to find better ways to express and conceptualize of my love for them- for my own sake as well as theirs.

Posted by: Greg Linscott at August 10, 2007 07:55 AM

Bob~This is why I love you so much! Well, as much as I can anyway:) You are never afraid to point out both sides of the picture. I am glad to see that you are not blinded by your 5-pointed views and that you are willing to critique and protest the views of those who closely align with you theologically. This was my Grandma’s favorite song. Call me sentimental, but I like the song. It does give great thoughts of a personal quiet relationship with God. Now can you do me a favor and write about the song, “So send I you”!!! Frankly, I am tired of hearing that song on deputation!!! That would show me you love me just as much!!!! Have a great time down under.

Dave

Posted by: Dave Deets at August 10, 2007 08:03 AM

Well, I suppose if you love God in the same kind of way that two lovers in secret rendezvous love each other, this is a good song.

I’m with Greg (and MacArthur).

This post (and the comments) reveal the blaring problem with contemporary Evangelical understanding of emotion — not all emotion is created equal. This may be a nice love poem, but does it really express the kind of piety David had for the Lord?

I would argue that the only reason the elderly like this song, is because it reminds them of their youth, and the only reason those younger like this song, is because it reminds them of their grandparents.

Nostalgia is rotting true piety, my friends.

True, biblical piety is something more, something deeper than whispers in the lilies. True piety is expressed better by men like Nikolaus von Zinzendorf (a Pietist, by the way):

Jesus, still lead on,
till our rest be won,
and, although the way be cheerless,
we will follow calm and fearless,
guide us by Thy hand
to our fatherland.

If the way be drear,
if the foe be near,
let no faithless fears o’ertake us,
let not faith and hope forsake us,
for through many a woe
to our home we go.

Jesus, still lead on,
till our rest be won;
heavenly Leader, still direct us,
still support, control, protect us,
till we safely stand
in our fatherland.

Posted by: Scott Aniol at August 10, 2007 08:53 AM

The Mystics would go through a time of serious purgation of the passions before they would be brought into the deeper Spiritual Union.

I doubt Pirates and VBS and movies and skits have prepared us for such a thing.

Maybe that is why so many think In The Garden is representative of a deeper intimacy with God. We were prepared for it by a lengthy time of serious purgation of right affections.

Posted by: lilrabbi at August 10, 2007 10:49 AM

Bob,

My biggest objection to this song has been its lack of identification. While we correctly assume it is referring to Christ, the song doesn’t explicitly say so. It’s ambiguity makes it a poor choice to use, in my opinion, in congregational worship—which you also acknowledge for a different reason.

However, I would contend that the Church needs songs that express such subjective Christian experience—not apart from hymns of great doctrinal truth, but in addition to them. I think this is exactly what the “odes of the Spirit” refers to in passages like Ephesians 5 and Colossians 3.

As for the “wrong emotions” argument, I think it’s a desperate but unfounded one. You see, without a bad emotions/good emotions premise, the whole inherent morality argument goes down the drain. It makes the whole analysis of music more subjective and difficult. It compels us to speak in less absolute terms about the rightness or wrongness of musical style. And, some cannot handle that truth because it levels the playing field. It takes away the “high” standards argument and allows the music of the common man to be just as accepted in God’s sight as the music of Bach. It doesn’t discourage discipline and the pursuit of excellence; rather it dismantles the spirits of superiority and divisiveness.

Posted by: Brian McCrorie at August 10, 2007 11:47 AM

Just another sidenote on . . .

Love. Love. Love.

Presently, John’s Gospel has completely corrected my past preaching on love in John 21. The Father’s powerful love for the Son in John 5 and earlier is phileo. It is interchangeable with agape.

I am rebuked.

Posted by: Todd Wood at August 10, 2007 12:30 PM

Bob,
thanks for the post. I really cannot fully agree with you—it still seems like such an inadequate vehicle for worship. But I appreciate your efforts to see where the song could lead someone. Regardless of how others may describe the song, it seems strange to ascribe to your dissenters a spiritual coldness. Frankly, this is where your argumentation weakens drastically. I was with you in part on some of this, until that line of reasoning surfaced. Saying that Mac and others are wrong in labeling it and similar pieces as “mawkish” does not seem to give you the room to resort to the “coldness”/”frozen” argument. Thanks for tackling it…

Joel,
Your response reminds me of those promulgating the Colossian heresy. I’m not saying you are pursuing a gnostically influenced, mystery-level of spiritual piety through overzealous spiritual subjectivity, but your response sounds like what a person pursuing such might say. Quote: “I’m hopeful that as you grow older and more experienced in your faith….you will get over it” Man, what if someone replied to you as written in italics above? How much would they need to know about you to not perceive your remarks in this fashion?

It reminds one of the use of “the Beethoven crowd” moniker which you have used to describe the Aniols , etc. of this world. It sounds cute, but there is an unnecessary, and unkind “dig” in there. Your response to Greg makes it seem as though his approach to analysis is somehow pharisaical—as though his (and others’)desire for objective truth precludes any connectivity to subjective experience—or to true piety. I’m guessing you don’t mean to say that much, and Phil 2 would have me view you as a person differently than that, but your arguments seem to say otherwise…

If this is how “Type B“‘s approach balance, it seems incongruous with their stated goals, or with biblical humility…

Posted by: Sam Hendrickson at August 10, 2007 01:21 PM

For all the vehement defense of this song and the profoundly deep discussion of its lyrics, I haven’t seen any mention of the music. Maybe I’ve missed it?

A couple of questions for you:

What is sentimentalism?
Is it good?

Posted by: Todd Mitchell at August 10, 2007 01:29 PM

As for the “wrong emotions” argument, I think it’s a desperate but unfounded one.

Quite an ignorant or arrogant statement considering that all philosophers and theologians from Plato to Edwards have spoken in terms of different levels of emotion, some good and others base. It was not until modernity that emotion was seen as one body of neutral human expression.

Even the apostle Paul differentiates between the koilia and the splankna, the latter viewed in a positive light, and the former viewed in a negative light.

See passages like Romans 16:18, Philippians 1:8, 2:1, 3:18 and Colossians 3:12. I’ll let you guess which ones use koilia and which use splankna.

Posted by: Scott Aniol at August 10, 2007 01:51 PM

With your permission, Bob, I’ll chase this rabbit trail just a little since I opened the hole, I guess.

Scott, it appears that the difference between the two words as Paul and others used them in the NT is simply that one is used more literally and one more figuratively. Koilia almost always refers to the physical organs inside the body and is not always viewed negatively as you claim, unless you view the birth of Christ as a negative when koilias is used to refer to the womb of Mary in Luke 1:42. If you are asserting that the slavish appetite referred to in Romans and Phil. 3 is an example of a lower or sinful emotion, I think it actually proves my point since both eating and sexual reproduction (depending on your translation in these passages) can be used for God’s glory or sinful gratification.

Posted by: Brian McCrorie at August 10, 2007 04:03 PM

True enough, Brian- but generally speaking, how we manage those will be different. Glorifying God in eating or sexual reproduction, using your example, will generally involve restraint. There are emotional responses we are not to be governed by- we aren’t to fully unleash or “let it all hang out” (think “losing one’s temper”). There are some emotional responses we are, conversely, to discipline ourselves to exhibit in abundance.

As Scott has noted, not all emotion is created equal.

Posted by: Greg Linscott at August 10, 2007 05:22 PM

Greg,

Can you go a little farther in explaining/illustrating the following sentence?

“There are some emotional responses we are, conversely, to discipline ourselves to exhibit in abundance.”

Doesn’t all emotional expression require self-control?

Posted by: Brian McCrorie at August 10, 2007 06:53 PM

No, Brian. The more noble affections need no self-control; one cannot have too much of them. You cannot, for instance, have too much courage or love.

But the more base passions must be controlled. Things like appetite (“the belly”), fear, anger, or sentimentalism.

The problem is that when the passions are pitted against the mind, the passions always win.

It is only when you fortify the mind with the noble affections that the mind can win over the passions.

The words Paul uses (koilia and splankna are both figures of speech. They both refer to organs of the body wherein Greeks considered the seats of certain kinds of emotion. Koilia, or “gut” was the seat of the base appetites. Splankna, or “chest” was the seat of noble affections.

This, my friend, has been the understanding and teaching of all philosophers and theologians for hundreds of years. The burden of proof falls to people like you to disprove the validity of the claims.

Posted by: Scott Aniol at August 10, 2007 07:16 PM

Steve, you’re quite gifted! I understood the cryptic message! Looking forward to seeing you, Sheriff.

Posted by: bob at August 11, 2007 12:20 AM

I will get back to this conversation on Monday. There are many things that need to be said and I want to take my time with saying them.

I will say though that Scott is sounding more and more like Garlock every day. I like the line that “…all philosophers and theologians from Plato to Edwards have spoken in terms of different levels of emotion, some good and others base. It was not until modernity that emotion was seen as one body of neutral human expression.” It reminds me of how Garlock and others try to debate the morality of music debate. Of course, it’s a bogus argument and, might I add, a rather generous generalization.

Posted by: Brian McCrorie at August 11, 2007 01:27 PM

I love it when they try to debate the debate. Its the best.

If Garlock really did take into consideration 2,500 years of the history of the church, it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have in common with him.

Posted by: lilrabbi at August 11, 2007 04:44 PM

Good ad hominim, Brian. Way to move the debate forward.

(burden of proof is still with you, brother; go ahead, take on years of church thought)

Posted by: Scott Aniol at August 11, 2007 11:10 PM

Sorry, Scott, I couldn’t help it. It just sounded so Garlock-ish. I knew you would appreciate the comment!

Posted by: Brian McCrorie at August 12, 2007 03:19 PM
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