Lord of All Hopefullness

by Kristian C. Kohler

Lord of all hopefullness, Lord of all joy,

whose trust, ever child-like, no cares could destroy:

be there at our waking, and give us, we pray,

your bliss in our hearts, Lord, at the break of the day.

 

Lord of all eagerness, Lord of all faith,

whose strong hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe:

be there at our labors, and give us, we pray,

your strength in our hearts, Lord, at the noon of the day.

 

Lord of all kindliness, Lord of all grace,

your hands swift to welcome, your arms to embrace:

be there at our homing, and give us, we pray,

your love in our hearts, Lord, at the eve of the day.

 

Lord of all gentleness, Lord of all calm,

whose voice is contentment, whose presence is balm:

be there at our sleeping, and give us, we pray,

your peace in our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day.

 

This beautiful hymn is one of those songs that seems to run like a thread through the fabric of my life. It’s a hymn that has found a special place in my soul and always seems to reappear, often unexpectedly. And, it is a hymn that both puts into words the stories of my encounters with God and through which I can pray; it shows the ways God makes Godself known in my life and gives me words to be in conversation with that God.

My first memories of this hymn are from elementary school, when my piano teacher asked me to learn and memorize the music. Although not even a full page worth of music, this understandably seemed a pretty daunting task at the time. I would sit at the piano (usually when my family was gone, I was too embarrassed to perform in front of others) and play through the hymn over and over again, usually singing along. The words found a home within me just as much as the music itself. With whatever new project I find myself undertaking, I often find myself praying these words, asking for hope and joy from the God who blesses us at the start of every journey.

Most recently, this hymn was sung at one of the first worship services of the fall term in Marquand Chapel at Yale Divinity School. It was also sung at a service of the Episcopal Church at Yale not long after that. Both of these were difficult occasions for me, missing both my home congregation in Reading and the congregation from my college years. Both are places of kindliness and grace, places where I was welcomed and embraced and learned to welcome and embrace in turn. These were places where I truly experienced the presence of the living God in my neighbors. But, when I sing these these words I’m reminded that as a member of the body of Christ, those whom I love are never far from my heart.

And, the words of this hymn remind me of the calm, contentment and peace that God freely offers. “Be still, and know that I am God!” (Psalm 46:10) As a busy-bodied perfectionist who often forgets to take time to be in silence with God, I’m reminded that God is our refuge and strength and is there speaking to us if we would but stop and listen. God, whose voice is contentment, assures us that we are in God’s hands–though we may turn away from God’s grace, that grace will never turn away from us.

 

Creating, redeeming and sustaining God…

God of hopefulness,

and eagerness,

and kindliness

and gentleness.

We give you thanks for our our daily living, our journeys of faith and our whole lives in you.

Help us to be still and to know that you are God…

remind us of the communion we share with one another in the body of Christ,

and grant us your bliss, strength, love and peace in our hearts

to serve you all of our days.

Amen