I have been humming an old hymn, “Once to Every Man and Nation.” I hummed it when I saw the viral photos of a Presbyterian pastor, David Black, hit with pepper spray by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) during a protest in Chicago. I hummed it while watching videos of Minneapolis citizens coming together to protect their neighbors. Perhaps it’s odd to pick a mostly forgotten hymn as the soundtrack for our divisive, chaotic times. “Once to Every Man and Nation” has never been a favorite — its tune is too martial and its words too archaic and gendered. Yet, at moments of crisis from the Civil War to the Civil Rights Movement, Christians have turned to this piece of music. Before we consign it to the dustbin of history, we should revisit its lessons.
Related reading: “Chicago pastors confront escalating violence at ICE detention facility” by Harriet Riley, Outlook reporting
“Once to Every Man and Nation” has been dropped from most hymnals, but many Christians of a certain age still know it. I was introduced to the hymn when my mother told the story of a young Presbyterian pastor, Bruce Klunder, who was killed during a civil rights demonstration in 1964, accidentally crushed to death by a bulldozer while nonviolently protesting the construction of a segregated school in Cleveland. “Once to Every Man and Nation” was chosen to challenge and console mourners (including my mother) at Klunder’s memorial service. It begins,
Once to every man and nation
Comes a moment to decide
In the fight of Truth with Falsehood
For the good or evil side.
Some great cause, some great decision,
Offering each the bloom or blight
And the choice goes by forever
Twixt that darkness and that light.
The hymn’s theme is relentless: decide. Decide between truth and falsehood, good and evil, darkness and light. Martin Luther King Jr. often quoted this hymn, most famously when he spoke out against the Vietnam War in 1967. He paired these lines with a call to action that still resonates: “The choice is ours, and though we might prefer it otherwise, we must choose in this crucial moment of human history.”
Recentering the focus
The lyrics of “Once to Every Man and Nation” are derived from James R. Lowell’s much longer anti-slavery poem, “The Present Crisis,” written in 1845. Extremely popular in the 19th century, the poem’s rallying cry for justice was cited by abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison and suffragist Victoria Woodhull, quoted by W.E.B. Du Bois in The Souls of Black Folk, and gave its name to the NAACP magazine, The Crisis. In adapting it as a hymn in 1890, Thomas J. Williams stripped the poem of its political content and recentered it on excerpts that emphasized personal conscience, witness and martyrdom.
By the light of burning martyrs,
Christ, Thy bleeding feet we track,
Toiling up new Calv’ries ever
With the cross that turns not back,
New occasions teach new duties,
Time makes ancient good uncouth,
They must upward still and onward,
Who would keep abreast of truth.
Here, the stark binaries of the first verse are softened by the reminder that truth is not static or absolute. Instead, “new occasions teach new duties.”
“Once to Every Man and Nation” ends with the prophetic claim that God’s justice is inevitable, even though it may be incomplete.
Though the cause of evil prosper,
Yet the truth alone is strong;
Though her portion be the scaffold,
And upon the throne be wrong;
Yet that scaffold sways the future,
And behind the dim unknown,
Standeth God within the shadow,
Keeping watch above His own.
In his last sermon four days before his murder, King glossed this verse by linking it to the classic civil rights anthem: “We shall overcome because… as we were singing earlier today, truth forever on the scaffold, wrong forever on the throne, yet that scaffold sways the future.”
I doubt that this hymn will return to contemporary hymnals. Even when updated to be gender neutral (as “Once to Every Soul and Nation”), its antebellum syntax is difficult to take in. At some points, it insists on “one great decision” between truth and falsehood, and at other times, it acknowledges that choices must evolve in response to circumstances. It urges bold actions, even to the point of risking one’s life as a witness, while acknowledging that God’s presence can be hard to perceive in times of crisis. However, these contradictions capture the challenge of living in morally ambiguous times. There are no easy answers. As the hymn states, “the choice goes by forever.” There are only decisions to be made with the imperfect knowledge we possess.
Related reading: “Faith leaders call for action after violence in Minneapolis” by Harriet Riley, Outlook reporting
At the impeachment trial for President Donald Trump in 2020, Senate Chaplain Barry C. Black (no relation to Chicago pastor David Black) offered a prayer that quoted “Once to Every Man and Nation” and asked a question that we all must ask ourselves: “Mighty God, could it really be that simple? Could it really be just truth striving against falsehood and good striving against evil?” Barry Black, whose role is nonpartisan, was posing an ethical and theological challenge rather than a political one. How will we choose?
In a sermon shortly before his untimely death in 1964, Klunder offered his own response to Black’s question. He said, “To understand suffering and make it your own will not dictate a particular strategy of action, but it will throw you into the battle to make your own decisions as a follower of him who suffered all that we might be one.” It’s as good an answer as we can get. Klunder did not intend to die when he joined Black Clevelanders in their long fight for school desegregation, but he made his choice as a follower of Christ. At his memorial service, the congregation sang “Once to Every Man and Nation.”
The social and political issues that roiled America in the 1960s are not the same as those we face today, but as “Once to Every Man and Nation” reminds us, new situations require new commitments. In our own time, we see immigrant communities in danger, hate normalized, and political division shredding our relationships. Clergy and lay people in Chicago and Minneapolis decided on nonviolent direct action. Truth is on the scaffold, power on the throne. The moment comes for you to decide. Maybe hum an old hymn while you do.
