Lord, I Was Blind: I Could Not See

Martyn Lloyd-Jones frequently said that the most powerful word in the Bible is “but.” We encounter that in dark passages that describe our hopeless plight in sin. And then the light explodes and everything changes as the text goes on to say “But God” has acted to deliver us from sin’s guilt and power and has given us a glorious future.

That stunning contrast almost jumps off the page at us in Ephesians 2. In the first three verses, Paul wrote, And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience—among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. That’s terrible news, but it’s the truth.

And then comes the marvelous good news that changes everything. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with Him and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages He might show the immeasurable riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.

Yes, we were dead, but God made us alive. And our hymn study, “Lord, I Was Blind: I Could Not See,” captures the marvel of that contrast with dramatic eloquence. The hymn is not very well-known, and sadly has been missed by many hymnal editors. It deserves a much more prominent place in the musical vocabulary of the church. It is rich in theology, but very transparent in the way it is cast, and very thrilling to our soul to hear these truths.

The hymn text speaks in successive stanzas of those who were spiritually blind, deaf, dumb, and dead, and then all four in the final stanza. We can’t help but think of the many instances recorded in the Gospels when Jesus healed people with these maladies, as well as the demon-possessed. Wherever we read of Jesus miraculously healing such people, we often find a statement that after the specific instance described in the text, the Gospel writer went on to record that Jesus healed all the sick that were brought to Him throughout the day. How many thousands must that have been during His three years of public ministry?

We don’t have much information about the author of this hymn text, William Tidd Matson. He was born at West Hackney, London on October 17, 1833. He studied at St. John’s College, Cambridge and then at the Agricultural and Chemical College, Kennington. In 1853 he experienced a powerful spiritual conversion, probably after having lived the previous years as a nominal Christian in the Church of England. He first joined the Methodist New Connection body, and then the Congregationalists. After theological training, he entered the ministry and held several pastorates before retiring in 1897, two years before his death. Among the few hymns he wrote, his best-known is “Teach Me, O Lord, Thy Holy Way.”

This hymn, “Lord, I Was Blind,” was written in 1868. We sing it to the tune BODMIN, composed by Alfred Scott-Gatty (1847-1918), a long-serving officer of arms at the College of Arms in London. Among his royal honors was the prestigious “Garter Principal King of Arms.” He was an accomplished (though amateur) musician and his work was very popular during his lifetime. Much of his musical work was written for children, include several collections of songs and two operettas. He was an authority on heraldry and genealogy, as is evident from this painting.

The text of Matson’s hymn is in the first person singular. And so when we sing it, we should try to make it our own confession. Each of us should understand the gospel well enough to make these words our own. We should each be able to say with deep conviction, I was blind, I was deaf, I was dumb, I was dead. And then we should each be able to see with the same conviction, But now I see, but now I hear, but now I speak, but now I am alive.

When we sing the hymn, we should mark well the enormous change that comes in the middle of each of the first four stanzas, as soon as we come to the words, “But now.” If the organ is used to accompany the singing, a dark registration should be used for the first half of each stanza (8’ reeds on the Swell division, with the box closed), changing to a bright registration for the second half (principals up to mixture on the Great). Then the final stanza should be full organ, with the Swell reeds coupled to the Great and box open.

In stanza 1, we confess that before we were converted, we were spiritually blind. We could read Christian books and magazines, and watch Christian videos, and see gatherings of Christian worshippers, but none of these things moved our hearts. And the image of Christ that we had in our minds was so distorted from the truth that we could see nothing of saving grace. We could only see a frowning Savior who was determined to keep us from any joy in life, one who only condemned and threatened; or a Savior so irrelevant to our lives that we hardly gave Him a thought at all. BUT NOW, our spiritual eyes have been opened, and we see this beautiful Savior as the most glorious sight we’ve ever been able to behold. “This radiant vision” is like the marvelous colors of a spectacular dawn.

Lord, I was blind: I could not see in Thy marred visage any grace;
but now the beauty of Thy face in radiant vision dawns on me.

In stanza 2, we confess that before we were converted, we were spiritually deaf. We could listen to the Scriptures being read in worship, or hear the hymns of worship in church laying out the royalty of the King of kings in splendid music, and listen to the testimony of new converts fresh from a life of self-destructive sin, or hear the reports of missionaries describing the impact of the gospel on a community of formerly unbelieving worshippers of false gods, or the stories of church planters seeing people come to Christ in the midst of utterly secular urban centers, and be totally uninterested, if not skeptical and scoffing. BUT NOW when we hear such things, our heart rejoices, not only in believing but in celebrating the accounts. More than that, we now actually hear the Lord Himself speaking to us on those occasions, “and all Thine uttered words are dear.”

Lord, I was deaf: I could not hear the thrilling music of Thy voice;
but now I hear Thee and rejoice, and all Thine uttered words are dear.

In stanza 3, we confess that before we were converted, we were spiritually dumb. Our conversation never included reference to the Lord or to spiritual things. We only spoke about sports or politics or jobs or entertainment. Nothing else interested us. The only time the Lord’s name was on our tongues was in thoughtless, irreverent, and profane use of His name. BUT NOW we can hardly keep silent. Every chance we get, we turn the conversation to the Lord and His saving grace, His comforting presence, and His precious promises. The hymn alludes to Isaiah 6, where the prophet’s lips were cleansed by the angel with a coal from the altar. Now “my lips Thine eager praises wake.”

Lord, I was dumb: I could not speak the grace and glory of thy name;
but now, as touched with living flame, my lips Thine eager praises wake.

In stanza 4, we confess that before we were converted, we were spiritually dead. The language comes straight from Ephesians 2:1, that we were dead in our trespasses and sins. Not that we were wounded or sick, but dead! We were as dead to spiritual stimuli as a corpse in the morgue is dead to physical stimuli. And like that corpse, not only were we unable to raise ourselves from the dead; we were not even aware that we were dead! BUT GOD, out of His sovereign grace and with His sovereign power has caused us to be born again (1 Peter 1:3). We were just like Lazarus in the grave, until Jesus, by the Holy Spirit, spoke the life-giving command, “Come out!” And as Lazarus was immediately made alive and came out, so did we “rise from sin’s dark sepulcher.”

Lord, I was dead: I could not stir my lifeless soul to come to thee;
but now, since thou hast quickened me, I rise from sin’s dark sepulcher.

In stanza 5, we rejoice that we have been the objects of God’s electing, regenerating grace in the sense of every one of these images. Because of Him, we can now see His beauty, we can now hear His voice, we can now speak His praise, and we are alive. No longer slaves to our old nature and to sin, the chains of our spiritual captivity have been broken. Never again we will be bound in that old life. And so what should we do now with our new freedom? We should do what Jesus did in the words of Isaiah’s prophecy in chapter 61, “Proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound.”

Lord, thou hast made the blind to see, the deaf to hear, the dumb to speak,
the dead to live; and lo, I break the chains of my captivity!

There are no You Tube postings of this text to the tune BODMIN (the tune used in the 1990 Trinity Hymnal – no. 555). But here is a link to the hymn being sung to the tune BROKENNESS at London’s Metropolitan Tabernacle, the church made famous by its 19th century reformed Baptist preacher Charles Spurgeon.