Scripture Verse

Today, if you hear His voice, harden not your hearts. Psalm 95:7–8

Introduction

portrait
Samuel F. Smith
(1808–1895)

Words: Sam­uel F. Smith, 1831; alt. by Tho­mas Hast­ings.

Music: Nain Lo­well Ma­son, 1831 (🔊 pdf nwc).

portrait
Lowell Mason (1792–1872)

Backround

For in­duc­ing im­me­di­ate ac­cept­ance of the of­fer of sal­va­tion through faith in Christ this hymn has been of great val­ue. In one of his ser­mons, Mr. Moody re­fers to my sing­ing it on a night ne­ver to be for­gott­en:

For four or five nights in suc­cess­ion I had been preach­ing in Chi­ca­go [Il­li­nois] on the sub­ject of ‘The Life of Christ,’ and we had fol­lowed him from the cra­dle to the judg­ment hall of Pi­late. I have al­ways felt that on that night I made one of the great­est mis­takes of my life.

How of­ten I have wished that I could call back what I said to the con­gre­ga­tion at the close of the meet­ing on that me­mo­ra­ble night of the Chi­ca­go fire! That night I spoke from the text, ‘What shall I do with Jesus?’ and as I closed I said: ‘Now I want you take this ques­tion home with you, think it ov­er, and next Sun­day night I want you come back here and tell me what you are go­ing to do with Je­sus.’ What a mis­take! I gave them a week to de­cide; but I ne­ver met that au­di­ence again.

Even then the huge bell of the court-house near by was toll­ing out what proved to be the death-knell of the ci­ty. How well I re­mem­ber the hymn Mr. San­key sang as a so­lo at the clos­ing mo­ment of that meet­ing, as his voice rang out:

To-day the Sav­iour calls; for re­fuge fly;
The storm of jus­tice falls, and death is nigh.

It seemed al­most pro­phet­ic. It was the last verse sung in that beau­ti­ful hall. We closed the meet­ing and went out in­to the streets, ne­ver to meet again. It is es­tim­at­ed that a thou­sand lives were lost that night. As ma­ny of them were lost near Far­well Hall, it may have been that some who heard me say that night, ‘Take a week to de­cide the ques­tion,’ were among the lost ones.

Sankey, pp. 288–89

Lyrics

Today the Sav­ior calls:
Ye wan­der­ers, come;
O ye be­night­ed souls,
Why long­er roam?

Today the Sav­ior calls:
O list­en now!
Within these sac­red walls
To Je­sus bow.

Today the Sav­ior calls:
For re­fuge fly;
The storm of jus­tice falls,
And death is nigh.

The Spir­it calls to­day:
Yield to His pow­er;
O grieve Him not away;
’Tis mer­cy’s hour.