Wednesday, November 9, 2022
427. Proper 12 (Series B)
To God, in whom the saints are named,
We bow the knee in prayer
That hearts to faith may be inflamed,
That love be rooted there.
From Christ, who shows us with the saints
The height and width and length,
The love surpassing all restraints,
We draw the Spirit's strength.
To Him whose power far exceeds
All that we ask or think,
Let us entrust our cares and needs
And of His wisdom drink.
Let us behold His mystery
Bound up in promised sign,
And so His unseen nature see,
His age-deep treasures mine:
From rainbow's promise lest a flood
Should drown the world again
To His last testament of blood
Poured out to ransom men.
Oh, breadth that gathers in our race!
Oh, length of trusty bond!
Oh, depth of sacrificial grace!
Oh, height all worlds beyond!—
Oh, Christ to grasp, and to be filled
With knowledge from on high!
Oh, but to taste His truth distilled,
From floods of sin kept dry!
Kneel, heart! Lie prostrate, little mind!
Bless Him whose touch makes well.
In Him your sheltered harbor find,
Who walks unscorched through hell.
And though the floods against you rise,
Your foe at court rise up,
Trust Him whose bow stands in the skies;
Taste His acquitting cup!