Where Cross The Crowded Ways Of Life
Where Cross the Crowded Ways of Life
Where cross the crowded ways of life,
Where sound the cries of race and clan,
Above the noise of selfish strife,
We hear Thy voice, O Son of man!
In haunts of wretchedness and need,
On shadowed thresholds dark with fears,
From paths where hide the lures of greed,
We catch the vision of Thy tears.
From tender childhood’s helplessness,
From woman’s grief, man’s burdened toil,
From famished souls, from sorrow’s stress
Thy heart has never known recoil.
The cup of water given for Thee
Still holds the freshness of Thy grace;
Yet long these multitudes to see
The sweet compassion of Thy face.
O Master, from the mountainside,
Make haste to heal these hearts of pain;
Among these restless throngs abide,
O tread the city’s streets again.
Till sons of men shall learn Thy love
And follow where Thy feet have trod;
Till, glorious from Thy heaven above,
Shall come the city of our God!
“I’M NOT A HYMNWRITER!” Frank Mason North protested when he was asked to write a hymn on a missionary theme for the Methodist hymnal. He was a New York City man. He had been born there and had served as a pastor there. In 1903 he was an officer of both the New York City Mission and the National City Evangelical Mission.
North realized that the city was a great mission field. He decided to write about the city as he saw it, about “haunts of wretchedness” and “shadowed thresholds dark with fears.” He wrote of Wall Street–like paths that “hide the lures of greed.”
North’s stirring words were published first by the Methodist City Missionary Society and later appeared in the Methodist hymnal. Let us listen to this challenge to bring Christ’s loving presence to the streets of our cities.
Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.
Matthew 25:34-36
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