An Imposter Learns to Live “All for Him”
Frances Ridley Havergal
I love songs that speak truth about God and his world. Sometimes I understand better when a concept comes to me tied to a tune. And I certainly remember that concept longer. Frances Ridley Havergal (1836-1879) wrote hundreds of hymns. Many explored the theology of sanctification; no wonder she was called “The Consecrated Hymnist.” She asked and answered the question, “What does day-by-day holiness look like?” By today’s standards, her answer to this question seems way too serious. But God uses all kinds of people to clarify his truths: as zealous and eccentric as she was, Havergal is still one of my favorite lyrical theologians.
The youngest of six children, Frances Ridley Havergal distinguished herself early, reading at three and writing hymns before she turned five. Her intensity, love of learning, agile mind, and sometime volatile temper earned her nickname “Little Quicksilver” (an older word for liquid mercury). Before she was twelve, Havergal had memorized large sections of Scripture (Isaiah, the Psalms, and Hebrews) and learned both biblical languages—along with French and German! Still she faced a spiritual problem, one that being named after the famous Christian martyr Nicholas Ridley (a distant relative) did not alleviate. Havergal never felt satisfied, never judged herself good enough, never felt kind enough, forgiving enough, or in any way content with herself, her skills, or, above all, her Christianity. Instead, she experienced imposter syndrome years before it was a diagnosis. Defeated and alienated, she refused to take communion at the church where her father served. In her quest for perfection, she wondered if she would ever know peace.
Eventually Havergal found some relief. While at boarding school, she met loving friends who encouraged her to surrender her worries and trust Jesus alone as her Savior. Two years later, Havergal gained more perspective when she viewed a painting by Domenica Feti (1589-1623) called Ecce Homo. It presented the beaten but obedient Christ, adorned in robe and crown of thorns just at the point when Pilate pronounced, “Behold the Man.” The artist had added an arresting caption phrase to his painting, one that Havergal translated, pondered, and chose as lifelong metric: “All this I did for thee, what hast thou done for Me?”
While Havergal had now turned a corner, she continued to be both attracted and overwhelmed by holiness. Consider, for instance, her most famous hymn “Take My Life and Let it Be.” In this song, Havergal offers to God her moments and days, hands and feet, lips and intellect, heart, and self “ever only all for Thee.” While this formal language differs from twenty-first century vernacular, I, along with so many others, identify with the sentiments Havergal expresses. No wonder the seniors at my school chose this hymn as the recessional for their commencement earlier this year.
During her lifetime, Havergal was more popular as a devotional author than as a hymnist. As a result, we can read her reflections about when and why she crafted this consecration hymn. Written during a five-day vacation, Havergal recorded the circumstances in her journal:
There were ten persons in the house; some were unconverted, some converted but not rejoicing Christians. God gave me the prayer, “Lord, give me all in this house.” And He just did. Before I left the house, everyone had got a blessing. The last night of my visit I was too happy to sleep and passed most of the night in renewal of my consecration, and those little couplets formed themselves and chimed in my heart, one after another, till they finished with "ever, only, ALL FOR THEE!"
Though “Take My Life” was prompted by a particular occasion, it reflects universal themes. Believers in Christ resonate with Havergal’s deepest desires: we long to be wholly devoted to God and his higher purposes.
One other hymn Havergal wrote tells of how she resolved her quest for holiness. In 1876, she visited Wales and, while there, contacted pneumonia. Her condition was so grave that death seemed likely. Her initial response to her illness reflected the depth of her faith, “If I am really going, it is too good to be true.” Of course, she did not “go” for another three years, but she did feel moved to write a poem revealing her confidence in God’s love and sovereign care. “Like a River Glorious” employs such words and phrases as:
· “victorious”
· “bright increase”
· “perfect peace and rest”
These all communicate the settled confidence that her brush with death produced. While life remained uncertain on earth, her heavenly future felt secure.
Frances Ridley Havergal’s hymns trace her journey from diffidence and fear to trust and peace. She sets an example for us all. Perfection is not something we achieve in our own strength. Self-effort ultimately frustrates, causes us to seek to hide our imperfections, to choose appearances, to save face and avoid shame. It deceives and depresses, and we play the imposter.
The Holy Spirit sanctifies; He defines and communicates holiness; He satisfies our longings for completeness; He transforms our values, dreams, and activities into God’s will. God the Spirit helps us take the focus off ourselves and place it on Christ. I join hands with Frances Ridley Havergal to sing “Take My Life,” for I too desire Christ’s “Perfect Peace.”
When God accepts such faith-drenched sacrifice, inadequate and halting as it is, peace like a river does flood our lives. We must quit manufacturing excuses and give ourselves to Him; He responds by showing us a deeper, fuller perfection. Joyfully, God always proves wholly true. And it is in his truthfulness that all of us, imposters as we may be, find healing.
