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A witness to the power of this heart-communion appears in the Christian hymn "Blest Be the Tie that Binds." Pam McAllister, in her online blog "Ask Her About Hymn(s)," tells what prompted the lyrics.
Rev. John Fawcett (1739-1817) was a young preacher in Wainsgate, which seemed then to be the middle of nowhere. ... The Yorkshire countryside in Northern England was barren and cold.
The people — goodhearted, hardworking, mostly illiterate — had next to nothing. They supplemented their pastor’s meager stipend with wool and potatoes. Nor was there a parsonage. Instead, Fawcett, his wife and four children were passed from one family to the next, a few months here, a few months there, no place to call their own. They suffered chilly drafts and ate porridge with their host families.
Poverty was nothing new to Fawcett. Orphaned at 12, he became an indentured servant at 13, worked 14 hours a day, and taught himself to read at night. When he was 15, he stood in an outdoor crowd of 20,000 to hear a sermon by George Whitefield ... and set his mind on becoming a preacher.
One day in 1772, after seven years of pastoring in Yorkshire, 33-year-old Fawcett got the call. He had established a reputation as a theologian, inspiring preacher, and serious scholar and was now wanted in London. London!
It seemed a dream come true, to move to lively London where his family’s standard of living would vastly improve. The city had good schools, libraries, sophisticated music and art, churches with stained glass, and educated colleagues for deep conversation. Fawcett agonized over the tempting offer and finally said YES!
The family packed up, climbed into a wagon, and waved to people who had come many miles to say goodbye. The scene was so wrenching, however, that Fawcett realized he couldn’t leave. He turned the horses around, unpacked, and stayed in Yorkshire for another 45 years.
John Osbeck, in 101 Hymn Stories, shares the interchange between Fawcett and his wife as they were about to leave. The saddened parishioners had gathered around the wagon. Mrs. Fawcett said to her husband, "John, I cannot bear to leave. I know not how to go!" The pastor replied, "Nor can I either."
While the lyrics are Christian in tone, the poem resonates with a communion of universal nature-anyway, all particularities of fellowship naturally arise from the global, as well as lead us back to it. All fellowship is one fellowship: strictly speaking, there is no Christian or Buddhist or Asian or male or female ... communion.
Blest be the tie that binds
Our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.
Before our Father’s throne,
We pour our ardent prayers;
Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one,
Our comforts, and our cares.
We share our mutual woes,
Our mutual burdens bear;
And often for each other flows
The sympathizing tear.
When we asunder part,
It gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart,
And hope to meet again.
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