Spirit of God, Descend Upon My Heart

Without consulting any resource, how many hymns can you name that are addressed to God the Father, or are about Him?  Count the number. Now list the hymns you can name that are addressed to, or are about God the Son?  Got the number?  Probably quite a few, right?  Now list the hymns you can think of that are addressed to (or about) God the Holy Spirit.  Are you surprised how few you came up with?  That’s not surprising, since the Holy Spirit’s work is to point to the Son, not to Himself.

But the Holy Spirit is by no means invisible textually in the Bible, beginning with the Spirit moving over the face of the deep in Genesis 1, to the statement in 2 Samuel 23 that David’s words (including the Psalms) came to Him as the Spirit of God spoke by him, on to the virgin conception of Jesus as Mary was “overshadowed” by the Holy Spirit, to Jesus’ promise in the Upper Room Discourse that He would send the Holy Spirit as another counselor, to the inspiration of the Scriptures that Paul said in 2 Timothy came as they were “breathed out,” which is the work of the Holy Spirit.

But most significant for this study is the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. What an amazing change He brought about!  Before that day, Peter had been what we would consider a colossal mistake as a disciple of Jesus.  Not only was he way off-track on the Mount of Transfiguration (wanting to build monuments to Jesus and to Moses and Elijah, as if all three were equal!).  He also seemed to suffer from foot and mouth disease, blurting our terribly inaccurate and inappropriate statements, including at the foot-washing in the upper room.  And how can we forget his impetuosity in the Garden of Gethsemane (pulling out his sword) followed hours later by his three denials of knowing Jesus, and then running off in shame.  Add to that his misunderstanding (along with the other disciples) at Jesus’ ascension, asking if Jesus was finally ready to drive out the Romans!

Within days, he became a stunningly different man.  On Pentecost, he stood in front of the vast throng in the temple and declared with audacious boldness that they were responsible for the murder of the Messiah.  His sermon that day was astonishing, coming from one who so recently had completely failed to understand the nature of Jesus’ coming into the world.  In that sermon, he showed incredible insight in demonstrating how Old Testament scriptures had predicted all of this.  And his sermon also showed phenomenally mature comprehension of the nature of redemption, and specifically of the substitutionary atonement that lies at the heart of the gospel.

How did this astonishing change come about, apparently not over a period of time between Jesus’ death and resurrection and that day of Pentecost?  It clearly came about instantly, not through prolonged study and meditation.  It came about as Peter was with the other disciples in that room where the Holy Spirit was sent, exploding in their midst with a sound like a mighty rushing wind and with what resembled cloven tongues of fire.  What changed Peter so instantly and dramatically?  It was the promised gift of the Holy Spirit!  And the power involved in His coming was evident in the conversion that day of 3000 souls in Jerusalem, and in the rapid expansion of the Christian church that was amazing contemporaries as this gospel was turning the world upside down.

Need we go further to establish the prominences and importance and value of the person and work of the Holy Spirit?  Should we not have and cherish a multiple number of hymns addressed to and descriptive of the work of the Holy Spirit?  Every hymnal should contain a healthy number of them.  And every pastor should make sure that his congregation sings and learns them, and comes to love them, even as we grow in our love for the Holy Spirit Himself.  And do you see the benefit for a church in observing the Day of Pentecost in its worship calendar?  If we celebration Jesus’ birth and death and resurrection, should we not also celebrate His ascension and His gift of the Holy Spirit?

Among the hymns appropriate for Pentecost Sunday (and any Sunday in which we praise God for sending his Holy Spirit) is the hymn, “Spirit of God, Descend Upon My Heart.”  It was written by the Irish Anglican pastor, George Croly (1780 – 1860) and included in the 1854 hymnal he compiled for his congregation, “Psalms and Hymns for Public Worship.”  Though a very capable poet, novelist, and historian, it is the only one of his hymns to have survived in use today.

Croly was born in Dublin.  His father was a physician.  He graduated from Trinity College in Dublin in 1804 and was ordained that same year.  He served as a curate at a parish in the diocese of Meath until 1810.  Then, accompanied by his widowed mother, his brother Henry and his sisters, he moved to London.  He was unable to secure a pastoral appointment there, reportedly because authorities confused him with a former Roman Catholic clergyman by the same name.

At that point, he decided to pursue a literary career.  He was a leading contributor to the “Literary Gazette” and “Blackwood’s Magazine.”  He also worked as a theater critic for the New York Times and later as a foreign correspondent.  He wrote poems, plays, satires, novels, history and some theological works.  His main contribution in that latter field was an exposition of the book of Revelation.

In 1819, Croly married Margaret Helen Begbie, whom he had come to know through his work for the “Literary Gazette,” to which she was also a contributor. They had five sons and a daughter.  Their eldest son died in in 1845 in battle at the age 23.  His wife died in 1851, and he lost his nine year-old daughter a few months later.  Croly himself died in 1860 near his home in Bloomsbury and was buried at the church he had served for decades, St. Stephen’s.

Finally, in 1835, through the influence of Lord Brougham, a distant relative of his wife, he was appointed rector of St. Stephen Walbrook in the city of London, a position he held until his death.  The parish was in one of the worst slums of London, and had declined to the point that it had been closed for a century.  His appointment was made in hopes of seeing the church reopened in that fine building.  He was known among his peers as thoroughly conservative with no tolerance for liberal views.  His personal charismatic style and dynamic preaching soon drew large crowds until the church was once more filled with hundreds of worshipers!

His hymn, “Spirit of the Living God,” is one of the most emotionally passionate hymns in the history of hymnody.  In the text, the writer pleads with the Holy Spirit to “descend upon my heart.”  The soul continues to entreat the Holy Spirit to “wean (my heart) from earth,” to “move” through the very pulsing of my heart, to “stoop to my weakness” and “make me love Thee as I ought to love.”  It is full of doctrine concerning the person and work of the Holy Spirit, the third person of the Holy Trinity.  But it is also intensely personal, earnestly imploring Him to come and powerfully draw us closer to Himself and to increase the work of holiness in our hearts.

In stanza 1, we find strong verbs in a crescendo of longing that comes from a heart that desperately wants more of the Spirit’s presence and influence.  The imagery of His descending conveys the heavenward-look of the soul.  And how accurate is the request that He would wean our hearts from earth.  That suggests that we are still desiring the things of this world, as a baby still desires its mother’s milk.  As the child needs to be weaned from that source of nourishment, so do our souls need to be weaned from their longing for earthly things.  The hymn pictures us in a low condition because of our sin, and needing the Spirit to stoop down to our weakness, since we sometimes hardly even have the ability to call out to Him.  What we want to want is to love Him as we ought.

Spirit of God, descend upon my heart, 
wean it from earth, through all its pulses move. 
Stoop to my weakness, mighty as Thou art, 
and make me love Thee as I ought to love. 

In stanza 2, we ask for the normal work of the Spirit, not some supernatural act specifically designed just for our personal temperament.  Croly identifies five things that may have been God’s pattern in the past: dreams, prophet ecstasies, sudden rending of the veil of clay (perhaps meaning visions), angel visitants, and opening of the skies.  But these were used only as temporary works that were available before Scripture had been completed.  Now, as 2 Peter 1:3 tells us, God has already given us everything we need for life and godliness.  It’s “the dimness of our soul” that wants more than God has intended, and is not satisfied with “the ordinary means of grace.”

I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies, 
no sudden rending of the veil of clay, 
no angel visitant, no opening skies; 
but take the dimness of my soul away. 

In stanza 3, we sing of what John Piper has often describes as the combination of duty and delight, when it comes to loving the Lord.  It is indeed our duty as the first and greatest commandment that we love the Lord with all our “soul, heart, strength and mind.”  It’s the first of the ten commandments in Exodus 20, and the center of the “Great Shema” in Deuteronomy 6:4.  And this is not a burden, but a delight.  Our new hearts find their greatest joy in loving the Lord.  And that’s especially true when we gaze at the cross.  That reminder of His love makes us want to cling to the Savior.

Hast Thou not bid us love Thee, God and King, 
All, all thine own, soul, heart, and strength and mind. 
I see Thy cross – there teach my heart to cling. 
O let me seek Thee, and O let me find! 

In stanza 4, we ask the Holy Spirit to be our teacher.  That’s part of what is involved in His work as our paraclete, the Greek word for counselor, encourager, and instructor who stands beside us.  And what do we ask Him to teach us?  Croly has packed four powerful requests into this little stanza.  1) to feel that He is always nigh, 2) to bear the struggles of life in this fallen world, 3) to check the doubts and sighs that swell within us at times like a rising tide, and 4) to have patience to wait on God’s timing when our prayers seem to be unanswered.

Teach me to feel that Thou art always nigh; 
teach me the struggles of the soul to bear, 
to check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh; 
teach me the patience of unanswered prayer. 

In stanza 5, we combine all those requests in one final plea.  It captures the essence of all of the stanzas in our longing to have more love for our great Redeemer and the Comforter He has sent.  And again Croly has packed a quartet of illustrations into this stanza.  1) How much love do the angels have for Him?  That’s how much we want.  2) What would it be like if one single, holy passion would dominate every part of our being?  That’s the passion we desire.  3) What should change in us as a result of having been baptized by the Dove from heaven?  4) And what divine glow would issue from us if our heart was an altar on which the brilliant candle of His love was burning, directing all to look with adoration to Him?

Teach me to love Thee as Thine angels love, 
one holy passion filling all my frame: 
the baptism of the heaven-descended Dove; 
my heart an altar, and Thy love the flame. 

Frederick Atkinson (1841-1897) wrote the Victorian tune MORECAMBE, named after a town in England’s Midland district. The composer’s intent was to provide a musical setting for Henry Francis Lyte’s famous hymn, “Abide with Me, Fast Falls the Eventide.”  Indeed, the rhythm is identical between EVENTIDE, the tune associated with “Abide with Me,” and MORECAMBE. 

There is, however, no doubt that MORECAMBE is well suited for “Spirit of God.” In the first stanza, a descending melody accompanies the words, “descend upon my heart.”  Likewise an ascending melody in the third line allows the words “mighty as thou art” to blossom. This rising figure works amazingly well with the text of each stanza. The final three notes of the melody, all on the same pitch, do not end on the customary tonic, home tone or first degree of the scale, but on the third degree.  By concluding the melody on the third degree of the scale, there is a floating quality to the ending of each stanza, reminiscent of the hovering of the descending Dove, one of the metaphors of the Spirit.

Here is a congregational singing of the hymn.

Here is a brief pictorial and musical telling of Croly’s story.