Sunday, August 29, 2021

311. Hymn on the Miracles of Christ

I'm not sure how successful this attempt at a hymn roughly running through the miracles of Jesus is, but it's what I came up with after considerable effort. It's kind of an attempt to view the miracles from a word-and-sacrament angle. I surprised myself a bit by not designing it as one of the "sing the first and last stanza and insert whatever is approrpriate for today's lesson in between" type of hymns, but I guess the subject didn't really cry out for that kind of treatment. Or maybe you can use excerpts of it that way, anyway. EDIT: I ended up writing an original tune for this hymn. See below.
O Christ, in all Your wonders
You show men who You are:
God-Man, whom nothing sunders,
Whose way no pow'r can bar;
Whose Father speaks as thunder;
Whose Spirit wings afar;
Who Satan's storehouse plunders—
Our bright and Morning Star.

Who is this Star that rises?
Behold, what promised signs,
What grace He exercises,
What prophecies He mines!
His healing touch surprises
The lame, dumb, deaf and blind;
Whatever man devises,
No clearer claim we find.

He gave, at Cana's wedding,
His first attesting sign,
Delight and pleasure spreading
With water turned to wine.
Then He, to slaughter heading,
Gave that on which we dine,
The vintage His veins shedding
Ten thousand times as fine.

He fed His congregation
Twice with a sign of bread;
Yet at His declaration,
A greater we are fed.
While Moses' generation
Ate manna yet are dead,
His flesh as our collation
Robs death of all its dread.

A tempest terrifying
He hushed, and all was still;
The dead as well as dying
Awakened at His will.
Baptism, too, applying
Flood's pow'r to drown and kill,
Now saves us, Christ supplying
His life, our lives to fill.

He set the demons fleeing
That minds and bodies bound;
Men's inmost nature seeing,
He spoke words that astound.
His word, still delving, freeing,
Works with a pow'r profound:
In it we have our being;
On it our hope we found.

Whatever wondrous story
You hear that Christ achieved,
Above all, give Him glory
That freely you believed
And through His triumph gory
A gracious God retrieved,
Your life an offertory
Less given than received.

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