Scripture Verse

A great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. 1 Kings 19:11–12

Introduction

portrait
John G. Whittier
(1807–1892)

Words: John G. Whit­tier, in the At­lan­tic Month­ly, April 1872. These words are from a long nar­ra­tive poem, The Brew­ing of So­ma. It de­scribes Ve­dic priests go­ing in­to the for­est and drink­ing them­selves in­to a stu­por with a con­coc­tion called so­ma. They try to have a re­li­gious ex­pe­ri­ence and con­tact the spir­it world. It is af­ter set­ting that scene that Whit­tier draws his le­sson: Dear Lord, and Fa­ther of man­kind, for­give our fool­ish ways…

The hymn was sung in the 2007 mo­vie Atone­ment, which won an Aca­de­my Award for best score. The hymn is as re­le­vant to­day as when it was wri­tten. In a mo­dern con­text, it speaks to the drug cul­ture, and those look­ing for an ex­pe­ri­ence to prove the rea­li­ty of God.

Music: Rest (Mak­er) Fred­er­ick C. Mak­er, 1887 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tunes:

If you know where to get a good pho­to of Mak­er (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),

Lyrics

Dear Lord and Fa­ther of man­kind,
Forgive our fool­ish ways;
Reclothe us in our right­ful mind,
In pur­er lives Thy ser­vice find,
In deep­er re­ver­ence, praise.

In sim­ple trust like theirs who heard,
Beside the Sy­ri­an sea,
The gra­cious call­ing of the Lord,
Let us, like them, with­out a word,
Rise up and fol­low Thee.

O Sab­bath rest by Ga­li­lee,
O calm of hills above,
Where Je­sus knelt to share with Thee
The si­lence of eter­ni­ty,
Interpreted by love!

With that deep hush sub­du­ing all
Our words and works that drown
The ten­der whis­per of Thy call,
As noise­less let Thy bless­ing fall
As fell Thy man­na down.

Drop Thy still dews of qui­et­ness,
Till all our striv­ings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our or­dered lives con­fess
The beau­ty of Thy peace.

Breathe through the heats of our de­sire
Thy cool­ness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh re­tire;
Speak through the earth­quake, wind, and fire,
O still, small voice of calm.