There are many things in our world which threaten our peace and security, and some even threaten our very lives. In many of these instances, there is little or nothing we can do. It could be a disease for which there is no cure, or a tyrannical government from which there is no hiding, or a devastating terrorist attack on our homeland, or a catastrophic mechanical failure in the controls of an aircraft in which we’re a passenger … or even the threats of a persecuting regime targeting Christians.
It’s been reported that at Moody Bible Institute, students preparing for a career in Christian ministry are taught that they “need to be ready to preach, pray, or die at a moment’s notice.” That’s a healthy admonition for every believer, since one day our physical life will come to an end, perhaps sooner or more suddenly than we might have expected. Are we living with a confident readiness to be called home at any time? We certainly ought to be!
A marvelous expression of this attitude is the hymn, Lord, It Belongs Not to My Care, Whether I Die or Live, written by the 17th century English Puritan, Richard Baxter (1615-1691). It is based on Paul’s triumphant boast from a Roman jail, “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21) Baxter is remembered as a model of pastoral care for souls in the congregation. His book, The Reformed Pastor, is a classic for seminary training. By “reformed,” he meant not so much Reformed Theology, as he did a reformed pattern of pastoral care that involved visiting in the homes of parishioners to inquire into their spiritual health, catechizing both parents and children. That was his pattern in his lengthy ministry in Kidderminster before moving to London, where he was for a time chaplain to Charles II.
Baxter was largely self-taught. He eventually studied at a free school, then at royal court, where he became disgusted at what he saw as frivolity. He left to study divinity, and at age 23 was ordained into the Church of England, where he found common ground with the Puritans. For his part, Baxter did his best to avoid the disputes between Anglicans, Presbyterians, Congregationalists, and other denominations, even convincing local ministers to cooperate in some pastoral matters. “In necessary things, unity; in doubtful things, liberty; in all things, charity,” he was fond of saying.
Though an Anglican, he was still irritated with the episcopacy in 1660, when he was offered the bishopric of Hereford, so he declined it. As a result, he was barred from ecclesiastical office and not permitted to return to Kidderminster, nor was he allowed to preach. Between 1662 and 1688 (when James II was overthrown), he was persecuted and was imprisoned for 18 months, and was forced to sell two extensive libraries. Still, he continued to preach. These famous words of his are frequently quoted: “I preached as never sure to preach again,” he wrote, “and as a dying man to dying men.” He died in London in 1691, and his funeral was attended by members of all theological parties.
While Baxter is well-known among reformed readers, his theology was judged to be deficient in several key areas, not the least of which were justification and the atonement. He taught that justification required some degree of faith as the human response to the love of God, to the degree that this faith was wrongly seen as having some saving merit. And he was engaged in lengthy debate with the great Calvinist Puritan theologian John Owen over the doctrine of the atonement. He steadfastly rejected the idea of a limited atonement (the “L” of the T-U-L-I-P acrostic that was central to the Canons of Dordt) in favor of a universal atonement. In 1648, John Owen wrote the classic treatise of that doctrine in The Death of Death in the Death of Christ, in which he powerfully and convincingly undermined the arguments of his opponents. J. I. Packer regarded Owen’s work on this subject to be one of the most important and influential works of theology of all time!
Returning to the theme of Baxter’s hymn, among all the things that should mark Christians as visibly different from all others is their attitude when facing death. Every person will come to that time at some point in their life. For believers, while death is still the enemy, it is a defeated foe, and what lies ahead is the expectation of seeing our “Beautiful Savior” face to face, in all His glory, and experiencing the embrace of our “Loving Lord” as He welcomes us home. How wonderful if the words of this hymn were on our lips as that moment approached.
In stanza 1, we make this powerful statement that, hopefully, is an accurate reflection of the orientation of our hearts … that we trust entirely in the Lord’s decision as to whether we live or die, that we leave that determination to His wisdom, as long as we have the privilege of continuing to serve Him out of love for Him. And we acknowledge that this is a difficult choice for us, one in which we can carry through only as He gives us the grace in the moment when that becomes a reality for us. We are truly at ease, whatever He desires.
Lord, it belongs not to my care
Whether I die or live;
To love and serve Thee is my share,
And this Thy grace must give.
In stanza 2, we face two possibilities … a long life or a short life, a life that stretches into advanced years after retirement or a life that is cut short barely after we have gotten started in our family and in our career. Long life brings gladness in many dimensions, as we watch our children grow and flourish, as we see our work prosper and influence others in the pursuit of godliness, as we are able in retirement to put our knowledge to use in training the next generation. But if that’s not what God chooses for us, how could we be sad at the prospect of being with the Lover of our Souls in that “endless day”?
If life be long, I will be glad,
That I may long obey;
If short, yet why should I be sad
To welcome endless day?
In stanza 3, we find comfort in remembering that whatever hardship He calls us to endure, however dark, we will not have to go through any “darker rooms than He went through before.” That brings to mind the assurance of Psalm 23, that He will be with us even in “the valley of the shadow of death.” That comforts us, because He went through a valley of the shadow of death that was much darker than anything we will ever experience. He felt the full power of the wrath of God in our place, something we will never face. And Baxter rightly concludes this stanza with the realization that this is the way we must all enter into the kingdom of God, through some degree of adversity.
Christ leads me through no darker rooms
Than He went through before;
He that unto God’s kingdom comes
Must enter by this door.
In stanza 4, we look ahead to that day when death is near. But we do so without fear, because we have the confidence that He has been preparing us for that day, to be ready for the moment when we will see His “blessed face.” And in the second half of the stanza, we remember how many “sweet” things He has done for us and given to us in this life. If these have been so marvelous, we can’t begin to imagine what infinitely greater joys await us then in glory.
Come Lord, when grace hath made me meet
Thy blessed face to see;
For if Thy work on earth be sweet
What will Thy glory be!
In stanza 5, we continue to look ahead to the day He has promised when the miseries of this life are gone. It’s not just that we will have no more sorrow or sickness or tears. Best of all, we will no longer have any struggles with sin, its temptations or feelings of guilt. What a day that will be when we “join with the triumphant saints” to “sing my Savior’s praise!” How we need to remind ourselves more often that we should be living not by sight at the temporary struggles we have, but by faith at the glorious we future we have.
Then I shall end my sad complaints
And weary sinful days,
And join with the triumphant saints
That sing my Savior’s praise.
In stanza 6, we realize that it’s hard to grasp the reality of that glorious hope. “My knowledge of that life is small.” The Bible hasn’t given me a full picture of what it will be like. And even what He has told us in His word is difficult for us to fully comprehend. “The eye of faith is dim.” But this one thing I know, and it sustains me. “That Christ knows all” of this for me. He has ordained all my days (Psalm 139:16), even those of the life to come. And He has promised that “I shall be with Him.” And so, as the New Testament ends, “Come quickly, Lord Jesus.”
My knowledge of that life is small,
The eye of faith is dim;
But ‘tis enough that Christ knows all,
And I shall be with Him.
The meter of 8.6.8.6 (known as Common Meter) is one of the most frequently used in our hymnals, and so there are literally dozens of tune possibilities for the singing of the hymn. It would fit with such tunes as DUNDEE, EVAN, MARTYDOM, ST. AGNES, or ST. COLUMBA. So rather than providing a link to listen to and watch the singing of the hymn, here is a link to the text of the hymn being read by the great Welsh 20th century preacher, Martyn Lloyd-Jones.