Servant Divine! Who inspired such delight
Who, quiet went about his way to bless
Who was just and brought justice in the night
Who meekly stood with us in our transgress
Who gained the Master’s Spirit for the fight
Who loved us and who shared our dispossess
What Love Divine! Picks up the useless reed
Regards the bruised and broken for God’s end
Does not break but binds, heals to serve a need
The reed becomes a rod that may not bend
And in His hand, now fit for any deed
Blossoms, bears fruit for Him who calls us, “Friend.”
Oh Spark Divine! That flickers oh so faint
Yet crosses swords with lightless foes within
The dimming soul made dark by ill-restraint
No stranger to its tempters or its sin
Breathe gently Lord despite the wretched taint
Enflame the faintly burning wick again!
To Him who gently tends us lest the Dawn
Break to find that last spark of God has gone!
…we give thanks.
“Behold my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my Spirit upon him;
he will bring forth justice to the nations.
He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice,
or make it heard in the street;
a bruised reed he will not break,
and a faintly burning wick he will not quench;
he will faithfully bring forth justice.
He will not grow faint or be discouraged
till he has established justice in the earth;
and the coastlands wait for his law.”