Jesus Shall Reign

Isaac Watts

I’d like to say that you could go to Duke Street, in the industrial town of Saint Helen’s in Lancashire, and find many an old stone house with a slate roof, and the church where the composer of the melody for our Hymn of the Week, John Hatton, once worshiped. Well, you won’t. You can find a Chinese restaurant, a Turkish restaurant, a tattoo parlor, a taxi company, and other clean-looking and rather plain modern urban establishments. But that’s the street where our otherwise unknown fellow lived, and that’s why the melody is called “Duke Street.” It’s a spirited and triumphant air, ranging up and down an octave, easy for any voice to manage, and you’ll most often hear it set to Dr. Watts’ “Jesus Shall Reign,” but it’s just as fine for Samuel Medley’s “I Know that My Redeemer Lives.”

“Jesus Shall Reign” isn’t a prayer. It’s a declaration of fact, now and in the time to come. Before his ascension into heaven, Jesus gave his disciples their great task, to go “make disciples of all nations,” which is the same as spreading the good news of salvation to all peoples, lest they remain in darkness or twilight, with no real hope in the world. When I think about what that means, my mind turns to that same northern land, just when the Irish monks sailed across the sea to establish their monasteries at Iona, Whitby, and other places whose people’s most glorious songs were of war, blood-feuds, courage, loyalty, gift-giving, treachery, old age, loss, and death. But the monks planted the seed that gave birth to Christian England — and to works of art and song that are filled with light.

That’s true of “Jesus Shall Reign.” Dr. Watts isn’t calling upon us to evangelize, not here. He asserts the universality and the eternity of Christ’s kingdom. There is no going beyond Christ: in him, all of human history is consummated. But wherever the faith goes, it brings joy and liberty. “Princes throng to crown his head,” says the poet, though that’s usually edited to read “Praises.” But the word princes makes better and more joyful sense. Imagine what it might be like to have all the great rulers of the world thronging in happy submission to crown Jesus as their king — rather far from men fighting with might and main to scramble to the top of a political heap! People talk the talk of human equality, but in the presence of Jesus, the ruler may be a small and spiritually feeble man, and his valet may be one of the great unknown saints. And what about liberty? “The prisoner leaps to lose his chains,” says Watts, and the most confining chains that a human being may wear do not leave marks on the wrists or the ankles. He who sins is a slave to sin, says Saint Paul. Think of what it may mean to be set free from that slavery forever — the slavery of self-will, of habits that promise happiness and deliver so little.

Or rather think of the freedom of the child. Imagine a genuine spiritual childhood, with all the frolic wisdom of old age; imagine what it might be like no longer to trouble yourself about what people think of you, or whether they think of you at all. Then you might say, in your own right, what Watts says here, that “infant voices shall proclaim / Their early blessings on His name.” A child is an “infant,” literally, if he cannot speak, but these blessed infants do speak, and maybe we old men too, in Christ, will speak good sense for the first time in our lives!

Jesus shall reign where’er the sun
Doth his successive journeys run;
His Kingdom stretch from shore to shore,
Till moons shall wax and wane no more.

To Him shall endless prayer be made.
And princes throng to crown His head,
His name like sweet perfume shall rise
With every morning sacrifice.

People and realms of every tongue
Dwell on His love with sweetest song;
And infant voices shall proclaim
Their early blessings on His name.

Blessings abound where’er He reigns:
The prisoner leaps to lose his chains,
The weary find eternal rest,
And all the sons of want are blest.

Where He displays His healing power
Death and the curse are known no more;
In Him the tribes of Adam boast
More blessings than their father lost.

Let every creature rise and bring
Peculiar honors to our King;
Angels descend with songs again,
And earth repeat the loud Amen.

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The version of “Duke Street” above is sung by the congregation of Grace Community Church, Sun Valley, California. Please take a moment to read this tribute to organist, Stephen Sturtz, offered by the grateful congregation whom he has served for the past 45 years.

A note from Debra: For a charming montage of film and still photos of Mr. Sturtz’s service to his church from childhood on, accompanied by his own magnificent organ music, click on the second video, just above. I chose today’s version of our Hymn of the Week because it provides such a fine example of what congregational singing should be — and because of Mr. Sturtz’s superb musicianship, in what is far more than an accompaniment.

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Word & Song by Anthony Esolen is an online magazine devoted to reclaiming the good, the beautiful, and the true. We publish six essays each week, on words, classic hymn, poems, films, and popular songs, as well a weekly podcast, alternately Poetry Aloud or Anthony Esolen Speaks. To support this project, please join us as a free or paid subscriber. Learn more about our subscription tiers by clicking the button below.