Amid the darkness of the Thirty Years' War, German pastor Martin Rinkart is said to have buried nearly five thousand fellow citizens and parishioners in one year, including his young wife. Conducting as many as 50 funerals a day, Rinkart's church was absolutely ravaged by war and plague, famine and economic disaster. Yet in the midst of that dark year [1637], he sat down with his children and wrote the following lines as a prayer for the dinner table:
Now thank we all our God
With heart and hands and voices;
Who wondrous things hath done,
In Whom His world rejoices.
Who, from our mother's arms,
Hath led us on our way
With countless gifts of love
And still is ours today.
O may this bounteous God
through all our life be near us,
With ever joyful hearts
and blessed peace to cheer us;
And keep us still in grace,
and guide us when perplexed;
And free us from all ills,
in this world and the next.
In the midst of such gloom, Rinkart's expressions of thankfulness seem either incredibly foolish or wonderfully important. Standing on a wholly biblical truth, Rinkart saw the certainty of God and the significance of thanksgiving. He saw that to be thankful in all things is to make the bold confession that encountering the presence and glory of God far outweighs everything we encounter in this life, whether a matter of despair or delight. Amidst the heaviness of darkness, he saw the wisdom in fixing his gaze on what he could not see?he light of the Gospel, the life of Christ, the eternal weight of the glory of God.
The Apostle Paul has written, “For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:16).
It is interesting to note that the general Greek word for “glory” used in secular writing took a different shape in the New Testament. The word was particularly influenced by its Hebrew counterpart meaning “weighted” or “heavy,” and hence, denoting something of honor and importance. The word “doxology,” referring to an expression of praise, comes from the same Greek word. The etymology is fascinating because the word itself seems to cry out for comparison. Will the things in which I have given most honor, the things in which I have set my gaze, always measure up? Under the heaviness of life, what weight does the hope I profess carry?
Paul proclaims the eternal weightiness of his hope in Christ as Lord, adding powerfully, “for it is the God who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6). It is the God who first spoke light into darkness, who made light to shine in the darkness of Christ's grave, and this inextinguishable light of Christ now shines in our hearts. It is this God of intrinsic glory whose reign is eternal, whose face we know, and in whom we know light and life itself.
Martin Rinkart's simple table grace was later made into a powerful hymn and sung at a celebration service at the war's end. Adding a third stanza, Rinkart's words continue with thanksgiving, concluding fittingly with words of doxology, words proclaiming the weightiness of the glory of God.
All praise and thanks to God
the Father now be given;
The Son and Him Who reigns
with Them in highest heaven;
The one eternal God,
Whom earth and heaven adore;
For thus it was, is now,
and shall be evermore.
Let us therefore fix our gaze upon the light of the Gospel of the glory of Christ who is the image of God, increasing in thanksgiving to the glory of God.
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Copyright © 2003 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.
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Version by Brett Blair, Nov. 2004, http://www.esermons.com:
Martin Rinkart was a minister in the little town of Eilenburg in Germany some 350 years ago. He was the son of a poor coppersmith, but somehow, he managed to work his way through an education. Finally, in the year 1617, he was offered the post of Archdeacon in his hometown parish. A year later, what has come to be known as the Thirty-Years-War broke out. His town was caught right in the middle. In 1637, the massive plague that swept across the continent hit Eilenburg... people died at the rate of fifty a day and the man called upon to bury most of them was Martin Rinkart. In all, over 8,000 people died, including Martin's own wife. His labors finally came to an end about 11 years later, just one year after the conclusion of the war. His ministry spanned 32 years, all but the first and the last overwhelmed by the great conflict that engulfed his town. Tough circumstances in which to be thankful. But he managed. And he wrote these words:
Now thank we all our God
With heart and hands and voices;
Who wondrous things hath done,
In whom his world rejoices.
It takes a magnificent spirit to come through such hardship and express gratitude. Here is a great lesson. Surrounded by tremendous adversity, thanksgiving will deliver you...with heart and hand and voices.
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