Riches

I tell you, make friends for yourselves with dishonest wealth,
so that when it fails, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.
–-Luke 16:1-13

Lord, you give by your good measure
more than we could ever ask,
shaken down and packed together,
overflowing in our laps:
Good the earth we reach unknowing,
good the glowing sun and rain,
good the plowing and the sowing,
good the ripening of the grain.

Lord, our hands are small and feeble—
This is more than we can hold,
yet you give us all and freely,
filling us with wealth untold:
Rich the soil beneath the shadows,
rich the root and rich the vine,
growing first and harvest after,
rich the tasting of the wine.

Lord, we’re born in need and hunger;
mercy like a flood released
spills on us in joy and wonder.
You have made the world a feast:
Sweet the footsteps of the pilgrims
coming here to break your bread;
sweet the wine you give your children;
sweet the new life from the dead.

Lord, you hold back nothing from us;
all we have is of your gift.
Joy becomes a solemn promise
in the saving cup we lift:
Good the bounty ever growing;
rich the gifts we can’t repay;
sweet it passes, overflowing
from our hands to all this day.