Creation’s Joy and the Work of Compassion

GRANT unto us, Almighty God! to take up that joyous strain which Thy holy children, tried by trouble, in the depths of distress, put to the proof by fire, sang unto Thee; when, forgetful of their own small troubles, they called upon all nature round to sing the song of God, the song of joy and gladness in Thy works.

O Lord God! whose ways are most wonderful, receive our thanksgiving for the renewed beauty Thou bringest into the earth. For Thou hast so fashioned us, that when the west wind blows, and the summer comes, the river of God is at its fullest; and into our senses, and, if we are wise, into our heart and spirit, comes the joy of God; and we, beholding this outward beauty, are called to meditation touching the very ways and works of the Lord. We give Thee thanks, Almighty God; we marvel, we adore.

How strange is the incoming of this life! We look abroad over the world that seemed a while ago so dead and chill and cold, but is now so gladsome and bright; and then we look into the grave and gaze upon the face of death, and think of those that are gone, and say: Lord, if Thou shouldst breathe upon them, why should not they too become glorious with life?

Bless us when we are shut out in darkness for a while. Teach us that all things are Thine, Thine the storm, and Thine the calm; Thine the morn, Thine the eve; all are Thine; beyond Thee is nothing; away from Thee is naught. In Thee are all things, even our sins, our sorrows, and our sufferings; Thou watchest them all, knowest them all, seest their working, and plannest their destruction and their doom. Ever trusting in Thee, may we escape from our sad selves, and leave the burden of the mystery, and the heavy and the weary weight of all this unintelligible world, in Thy great hand.

O God, lift us up for this time, if it be but for an hour, above the things that have too much sway over us; and cause us to have communion with Thy works. May we question the meanest and simplest flower that grows, as to what was the Thought of its Maker, when it went forth from the hand of God.

O Lord, how rich are Thy treasures! how great is Thy joy! We give Thee thanks for the rebuke that the sweet face of nature puts upon human pomp and vanity. We have read unto weariness of what the world counts pomp, of its titles and trumpets, its din and dust, its noise and state; and bidding these things adieu, as but the bubbles of passing time, we behold the everlasting hills, the great deep sea, the sweet flower by the wayside, the splendour of the heavens, the nightly stars, the consummate beauty of the dawn, the loveliness of the sunset, and we thank Thee that Thou hast given these things to all. Not to the great, not to the wise, not to the mighty only, are these Thy gifts given; but to Thy little ones, to Thy weak ones, and to those that are despised. O God, how good Thou art! for Thy tender mercies are over all Thy works.

And now, Lord God! if Thou makest a feast, give us grace to be Thy guests in thanksgiving and in joy. Let none of us turn sullenly from Thy splendour. Let none of us turn sadly from Thy joy. Let none of us beweak enough to suffer even the shadow of death to shut out Thy joy.

If Thy Son, when under the shadow of the cross, with strange fore-vision cried, “It is finished!” looking beyond, to the day when God should be all in all, may we let sin sleep, and confession be quiet, and penitence wait for a while, in order that the “joy of the Lord which is our strength” may fill us, heart and soul, until our tongue breaks out into rapture, and the words of the poets are borrowed to set forth something of our divine joy and thanksgiving, and we join in the great song of nature, and are carried on to hear the sound of many voices, as of a great multitude, praising Thee for Thy great goodness to the children of men.

Hear us of Thy mercy. Love us much, even to the end. And when we turn, as we shall by-and-by, perhaps, weary with joy, and exhausted, and sin comes back, and shame with it, and sadness begins again, and the eyelids are bowed down; then let us remember that,

“Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him.”

Lord God, we shall want Thy pity ere the night cometh. We shall want Thy pity when sickness is upon us; we shall want Thy pity when the angel of death passes by; we shall want Thy pity when our failing strength tells us that our little day is done; we shall need Thee always. Now we bless Thee, our Joy. Now we cry to Thee, comfort us on every side. Pardon our sins; uphold our feeble strength; fill us with great thoughts, and give us the skill, courage, and patience, to make those thoughts become good acts, lest they pass away as visions of the night; lest they end in themselves, as blossoms that are followed by no fruit, as words that none can bless. Hear us of Thy mercy, in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.—AMEN.