Another Friday, another thing I love.

I can’t sing, but I like singing.

I physically cannot keep a tune or even sing a recognizable song very often, but I enjoy singing songs. More so than listening to them. I enjoy singing in church, and the person I sit next to in the evening service has been blessed with a good voice. And so I sing loudly and only hear his in-tune voice. It’s great. I’d recommended it. Very enjoyable, and a bit of an ego booster too!

This is an old hymn. But the words, oh the words! And the tune. I’ll include it below and let it speak for itself – but let me say this  – for me it perfectly sums up the relationship between mystery and knowledge in the Christian faith.

And it’s utterly beautiful.

I CANNOT TELL

by William Y. Fullerton

I  cannot tell why He, whom angels worship,
  Should set His love upon the sons of men,
Or why, as Shepherd, He should seek the wand’rers,
  To bring them back, they know not how or when.
But this I know, that He was born of Mary,
  When Bethl’hem’s manger was His only home,
And that He lived at Nazareth and labored,
  And so the Savior, Savior of the world, is come.

I cannot tell how silently He suffered,
  As with His peace He graced this place of tears,
Or how His heart upon the Cross was broken,
  The crown of pain to three and thirty years.
But this I know, He heals the broken-hearted,
  And stays our sin, and calms our lurking fear,
And lifts the burden from the heavy laden,
For yet the Savior, Savior of the world, is here.

I cannot tell how He will win the nations,
  How He will claim His earthly heritage,
How satisfy the needs and aspirations
  Of east and west, of sinner and of sage.
But this I know, all flesh shall see His glory,
  And He shall reap the harvest He has sown,
And some glad day His sun shall shine in splendor
  When He the Savior, Savior of the world, is known.

I cannot tell how all the lands shall worship,
  When, at His bidding, every storm is stilled,
Or who can say how great the jubilation
  When all the hearts of men with love are filled.
But this I know, the skies will thrill with rapture,
  And myriad, myriad human voices sing,
And earth to heaven, and heaven to earth, will answer:
  At last the Savior, Savior of the world, is King.