Last Sunday I posted a little bit of the story of William Cowper’s conversion as background for his hymn There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood. I’d like to be able to tell you that his conversion immediately solved all his problems, but it wasn’t so. Cowper continued to suffer bouts of mental illness throughout his life, and his conversion didn’t keep him from attempting suicide again, either. He’d come from a family with mental illness in it’s history, but beyond that, he’d been a sensitive child who had suffered greatly in his younger years. Little William’s mother died when he was six, and his father almost immediately shipped him off to boarding school, where he was, by his own account, treated cruelly.
The assurance of his own salvation that he had at his conversion, when he saw “my pardon sealed in His blood,” did not continue without interruption. For long periods he would become convinced that ultimately he would be what he called a “castaway”; that is, in the end, Christ would say to him, “I never knew you.” These were the compulsive thoughts, I think, of a sick mind. After all, he truly believed that all those who trusted in Christ were surely saved, and that he, indeed, trusted in Christ. Yet he couldn’t rid himself of the idea that he was the one and only exception to the rule, the only person who ever lived who would trust in Christ and still be rejected.
There’s no big happy ending to his story either. His very last words, in response to an offer of refreshment from the woman caring for him, were “What can it signify?” To say the least, it makes his story a puzzle for us. His life is not a tale of triumph over adversity.
I knew someone who thought it was a mistake for the church to continue singing Cowper’s hymns, since, as they explained, he’d rejected Christ. I don’t think there’s really any evidence that he rejected Christ, just that he didn’t find the long term peace in Christ that we’ve come to expect from conversion. But what do we make of his hopelessness in the end? There are no easy answers to the questions raised for us by Cowper’s life .
I don’t know about you, but in a strange way, I find Cowper’s story full of hope. Here is a miserable man from whom we have received wonderful poetry and some of our most uplifting hymns. The products of his tormented mind bring hope and peace to mine. John Piper says the fact that so many people find encouragement in Cowper’s story should teach us that when we want to encourage others, we “must not limit ourselves to success stories.”1
In the end, Cowper’s life is proof of the truth of one of his own hymns.
God Moves in a Mysterious Way
God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.
The clouds of Cowper’s hopelessness are big with blessings for us, and someday the puzzle of his life will be made plain when God interprets it for us.
1 The Hidden Smile of God, John Piper, page 116.
Other hymns, worship songs, etc. posted today: Have you posted a hymn this Sunday and I missed it? Let me know by leaving a link in the comments or by emailing me at the address in the sidebar, and I’ll add your post to the list.
Update on Sunday, April 29, 2007 at 5:44PM by
rebecca
