The Revd Christopher Idle writes:
THE new doctor had completed his examination of Arlette Dudley-Smith. “May I ask,” he said, “are you any relation of ‘Tell out, my soul’?”
It was inevitable that “TDS” — Timothy Dudley-Smith — should come to be identified by his first and best-known hymn; and the story of its inspiration from a fresh copy of the 1961 New English Bible has often been told. But it is also a pity, since he was to write many finer texts over the next 62 years. “Lord, for the years” (1967) has often been voted a “favourite contemporary hymn” in various straw polls.
But Arlette, described by her husband as “my first and only love”, died in 2007. Timothy disliked the word “widower”, but survived her by a further 17 years, dying on 12 August, aged 97. Thanks to his meticulous note-taking, we can trace his writing alongside his main ministry. His work has been described by Professor J. R. Watson of Durham as one of the sparks that ignited the late-20th-century “hymn explosion”; or, to change the metaphor, that first hymn “changed the hymnological landscape”.
Born in Manchester, and educated at Tonbridge School, Pembroke College, and Ridley Hall, Cambridge (maths and theology), Timothy was ordained in 1950 to a curacy at Northumberland Heath, in north-west Kent. Then came seven years at the Cambridge University Mission (later the Salmon Centre) in south-east London.
In the 1950s, he edited Crusade magazine, an offshoot of the Billy Graham campaigns. From 1959, he served with the Church Pastoral Aid Society as Assistant Secretary, then Secretary, until 1973, when Bishop Maurice Wood appointed him Archdeacon of Norwich. He became Suffragan Bishop of Thetford from 1981 to 1991, retiring to the village of Ford, near Salisbury. His latter years were spent in his beloved Cambridge, near his family and attending St Andrew the Great (STAG) for as long as he was able.
Timothy’s Evangelical convictions, hand in hand with his Anglican loyalty, stood out at every point. He would urge fellow Protestants who were called to the episcopate not to wear a mitre; calls of “but we wear it only for a few minutes a month” was countered by “but that’s when the cameras come out.” When a Roman Catholic dignitary was given a standing welcome by the Church of England’s General Synod, Bishop Timothy remained respectfully but firmly seated with arms folded; here, he felt, an ecclesiastical line had been crossed, and he was not afraid to sit alone.
That first published hymn appeared, with two others, in the 1965 Anglican Hymn Book, though even then TDS did not see himself as a hymn-writer. Some lighter texts came in Youth Praise 1 and 2 (1966, 1969), pioneered and edited by his lifelong friend Michael Baughen, later Bishop of Chester. The next small landmark was Psalm Praise (1973), another Baughen project, and the last in which Timothy worked as a member of an Evangelical team of (young male) authors and composers.
Other Psalm versions followed, often informed by the wisdom of the OT scholar Derek Kidner, but Timothy never claimed more than that his texts were “based on” their scriptural source.
He declined to join the group working on Hymns for Today’s Church (1982, 1987), and was never a member of what became Jubilate Hymns, while remaining a warm-hearted friend and adviser. One factor was his reluctance to share in the radical modernising policy of that book; another was his uneasiness at being asked to assess and choose from his own steadily growing body of hymns. This latter factor was later relaxed in such projects as the revision of Hymns Ancient and Modern.
The most recent editions of two classic Anglican books illustrate his pre-eminence among 20th-century English authors. The latest and largest Hymns A & M (2013) has 41 of Timothy’s hymns, far more than by any other living writer. The more Catholic Revised English Hymnal (2023) has a more cautious eight; the former editor George Timms has 11 (plus others not specifically attributed). In later years, too, TDS became more tolerant of some of the best items in the “song culture”, which were constructed on more flexible guidelines.
Much of Bishop Timothy’s writing was tidied up and finalised on the beach at Ruan Minor, near the Lizard, in Cornwall. During the family holidays, Dad would rise early and take his handwritten notebooks, full of ideas and quotations, as the basis for the next hymn or two. Never one to conform to the demands of emails or the internet, Timothy rejoiced to be a survivor of the pen-and-ink scribes, “and, of course, blotting paper!”
Timothy was often asked to provide a new hymn for a particular place or event, including some from globally far-away places. He would very often oblige in quick time, crafting a text with local resonance, but always usable in more general contexts.
Two factors among others mark out his work. As with the texts of his hymnological hero Charles Wesley, nearly every line has its rhyming partner (the verse typically rhyming ABAB rather than ABCB). And, whether the theme is creation, conservation, civic duties, prayer, evening, or some season of the year, there will always be a hint (and often more) of the cross, and the precious blood shed for our redemption.
He abandoned thee/thou language quite early (after his Nunc Dimittis, “Faithful vigil ended”). While hesitant to address the Godhead directly as “you” (preferring a third-person mode), he had no problem with masculine pronouns for the Deity, in line with nearly all current Bible versions. In recent years, this somewhat reduced his acceptance in the North American market.
For many years, Timothy provided a clutch of new hymns, words only, but always with recommended tunes. Every Christmas, many of us looked forward to his early card, enriched by a new hymn for what was clearly his favourite season. Although there is inevitably some repetition, the marvel is that so much freshness comes through; and each has a different metre and tune.
Apart from Timothy’s many collections of texts and indexes, mainly the volumes of A House of Praise, but including more recently some verses for children in collaboration with composer William Llewellyn, the most thoroughgoing treatment of his work to date is the mammoth survey by the Americans Scotty Gray and David W. Music, A Noble Theme, A Skillful Writer (2021). Perhaps this comes just too close in time to its subject; there is little reference to contemporary hymn-writers in the British scene, and some of the more astute comments are hidden in the footnotes. Such is one quotation from fellow-scribe Martin Leckebusch, currently executive president of the Hymn Society of GB and Ireland, and one of several younger writers whom Timothy encouraged over the years.
Himself an Honorary Life President of the Society (from 2003), Timothy often contributed by spoken words at its conferences, and in print for its quarterly Bulletin; one favourite theme was the teasing relationship between hymns and poetry. While not himself a major poet, TDS shared a gift with many who are or were — the talent for comic verse, which, of course, needs its own skills and discipline. Wesley himself was not above that art.
Timothy always claimed to be unmusical, and that self-appraisal was borne out by some comic misunderstandings over tunes. But no one could deny his feel for the music of words, their patterns, rhythms, pairs, and contrasts, worked over painstakingly until the precisely satisfying sequence and balance were found and settled on. Having fixed his choice of words and seen it published, he was very reluctant to change it for some later afterthought. But it has been known, and comes with a slight shock as a result of its rarity.
As a preacher, TDS was thoughtful rather than exciting — which is not to say that he was dull. He faithfully fed and nourished the sometimes tiny congregations of rural East Anglia, and it always helped to have an open Bible in your hands. On a different scale were the big occasions at which Timothy was a wholly reliable choice of preacher; he memorably spoke to 1000 or more at St Paul’s Cathedral in 2012 at the thanksgiving for Dr John R. W. Stott. Another great friend had, he said, proved to be “called, chosen and faithful” (Revelation 17.14).
Timothy received many an award: an OBE for services to hymnody (2003); an hon. doctorate from Durham (2009); a Lambeth M.Litt. (1991); and honorary fellowships of both the RSCM and of the Hymn Society of North America and Canada (2011).
Timothy is survived by his children, Caroline (herself a published and prizewinning poet), Sarah, and James, an incumbent, and four grandchildren.
