Musical Notes

Hello OCBC family,

 Two days ago was the anniversary of the death of Augustus Toplady, August 11, 1778.

He was born on November 4, 1740, at Farnham, about 20 miles southwest of Windsor, England, and he became a Christian in 1755.

At first, Toplady was taken with John Wesley's teachings, but by 1758, he had become an extreme Calvinist and had harsh words for Methodist theology. Passionate for the Lord, he prayed, "God keep me from being a mere scholar."

Toplady received his degrees of Bachelor of Arts and Master of Arts from Trinity College. Ordained as a deacon in 1762, he was licensed to the curacy of Blagdon the same year. Two years later he was ordained as a priest, and until 1766 served as curate at Farleigh, Hungerford. For the next two years he held the benefice of Harpford with Venn-Ottery, and for two years after that, of Broad Hembury. During 1775, he took a leave to minister to the French Calvinist Reformed Church in Orange Street, London.

His first published work was Poems on Sacred Subjects, Dublin, 1759.

Toplady suffered from tuberculosis. As his death neared, he sensed God's presence. "O what a day of sunshine this has been to me! I have not words to express it. It is unutterable. O my friends, how good is God!" The day he died, he was calling, "Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!" He told his friends that he could not live much longer for no mortal man could live after seeing the glories of God that he had seen.

He died before he turned thirty-eight years old, but in his short life he wrote an immortal hymn, a favorite one for many, “Rock of Ages.”

Today, just a few people read Toplady’s books or sermons, but hundreds sing the beautiful words of “Rock of Ages.”

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
let me hide myself in thee;
let the water and the blood,
from thy wounded side which flowed,
be of sin the double cure;
save from wrath and make me pure.

Not the labors of my hands
can fulfill thy law's commands;
could my zeal no respite know,
could my tears forever flow,
all for sin could not atone;
thou must save, and thou alone.

Nothing in my hand I bring,
simply to the cross I cling;
naked, come to thee for dress;
helpless, look to thee for grace;
foul, I to the fountain fly;
wash me, Savior, or I die.

While I draw this fleeting breath,
when mine eyes shall close in death,
when I soar to worlds unknown,
see thee on thy judgment throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
let me hide myself in thee.

In His service,

Israel