Up from the Gravy?

Like a lot of Christians my age, I learned the old hymns at church before I learned to read. Every Easter Sunday, I’d enjoy singing along to the rousing rendition of “Up from the Gravy.” While the lyrics puzzled me, I loved the deep, somber dirge of each stanza that suddenly leapt joyously into the chorus like a trumpet blast. I could never figure out how a rose could grow out of a pot of gravy, but I could tell it was a triumphant event worthy of celebration.

This and many other hymns were written by Robert Lowry (1826-1899), a Philadelphia-born author and composer and a popular Baptist preacher who served churches in Pennsylvania, New York, and New Jersey. People knew Lowry as a brilliant Bible scholar and a captivating orator with a wonderful ability to paint word pictures with which to inspire a congregation. 

Robert Lowry

I suppose he never knew how many little kids created the image of a long-stemmed rose growing up out of a gravy boat.

When I finally learned to read the words for myself, I gained a new understanding of the song:

“Up from the grave he arose!” (Oh! Not gravy. Who knew?)
“With a mighty triumph o’er his foes;
He arose a victor from the dark domain,
And he lives forever with his saints to reign.
He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!”

Hymnologist Kenneth Osbeck wrote this account of the composition of the gospel song: “Following his reflection on the resurrection as recorded in Luke 24:6-8, ‘Lowry found himself seated at the little pump organ in the parlor of his home, and, in a very spontaneous fashion, there came forth the music and the words, giving expression to the thoughts that had been uppermost in his mind.’”

The three stanzas of this old hymn basically convey the same message three different ways. “Lo, in the grave he lay, waiting the coming day…Vainly, they watch his bed, vainly they seal the dead…Death cannot keep his prey, he tore the bars away.” Each time, the same slow dirge breaks into the triumphant chorus. As an adult, I can more fully appreciate not only the musical genius of the two opposing parts, but the real reason we can’t help but celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ as Lord of Life.

Darkness thought it won that bleak Friday. I’m sure it felt that way to the followers of Jesus, too. Just like it feels to you when you’re faced with untold sorrow, grief, or pain. When you can’t understand why bad things happen. When it seems all is lost. Darkness has won.

Easter is our reminder that, though battles still rage, the ultimate war was won long ago by Jesus Christ when he conquered death so that we can, too.

You know that feeling when your team is down by ten points at the end of the game? When you’re watching a great movie and the hero is in an impossible situation with no rescue in sight? You know that feeling when your team suddenly scores and you realize they’ve won the game against all odds? When the hero’s last great effort finishes off the villain once and for all? Multiply that feeling by about a gazillion, because that’s the truth of Easter. Now go celebrate.

You may even want a little gravy.