1 Corinthians 11:24

• [1Co 11:24] Beneath The Form Of Outward Rite

  Beneath the forms of outward rite Thy supper, Lord, is spread In every quiet upper room Where fainting souls are fed. The bread is always consecrate Which men divide with men; And every act of brotherhood Repeats Thy feast again. The blessèd cup is only passed, True memory of Thee, When life anew pours out its wine With rich sufficiency. O Master, through these symbols shared, Thine own dear self impart, That in our daily life may flame The passion of Thy heart.

  source: Cyberhymnal

• [1Co 11:24] Deck Thyself, My Soul, With Gladness

  Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness, Leave the gloomy haunts of sadness; Come into the daylight’s splendor, There with joy thy praises render Unto Christ Whose grace unbounded Hath this wondrous banquet founded. Higher o’er all the heav’ns He reigneth, Yet to dwell with thee He deigneth. Hasten as a bride to meet Him And with loving reverence greet Him; For with words of life immortal Now He knocketh at thy portal. Haste to ope the gates before Him, Saying, while thou dost adore Him, Suffer, Lord, that I receive Thee, And I nevermore will leave Thee. He who craves a precious treasure Neither cost nor pain will measure; But the priceless gifts of heaven God to us hath freely given. Though the wealth of earth were offered, Naught would buy the gifts here offered: Christ’s true body, for thee riven, And His blood, for thee once given. Ah, how hungers all my spirit For the love I do not merit! Oft have I, with sighs fast thronging, Thought upon this food with longing, In the battle well nigh worsted, For this cup of life have thirsted, For the Friend Who here invites us And to God Himself unites us. In my heart I find ascending Holy awe, with rapture blending, As this mystery I ponder, Filling all my soul with wonder, Bearing witness at this hour Of the greatness of God’s power; Far beyond all human telling Is the power within Him dwelling. Human reason, though it ponder, Cannot fathom this great wonder That Christ’s body e’er remaineth Though it countless souls sustaineth And that He His blood is giving With the wine we are receiving. These great mysteries unsounded Are by God alone expounded. Sun, who all my life dost brighten, Light, who dost my soul enlighten; Joy the best that any knoweth; Fount, whence all my being floweth; At Thy feet I cry, my Maker, Let me be a fit partaker Of this blessèd food from heaven, For our good, Thy glory, given. Lord, by love and mercy driven Thou hast left Thy throne in heaven On the cross for me to languish And to die in bitter anguish, To forego all joy and gladness And to shed Thy blood in sadness. By this blood redeemed and living, Lord, I praise Thee with thanksgiving. Jesus, Bread of Life, I pray Thee, Let me gladly here obey Thee. By Thy love I am invited, Be Thy love with love requited; From this supper let me measure, Lord, how vast and deep love’s treasure. Through the gifts Thou here dost give me As Thy guest in heaven receive me.

  Play

  source: Cyberhymnal

• [1Co 11:24] Draw Nigh And Take The Body Of The Lord

  Draw nigh and take the body of the Lord; And drink the holy blood for you outpoured. Saved by that body and that holy blood, With souls refreshed, we render thanks to God. Salvation’s Giver, Christ, the only Son, By His dear cross and blood the victory won. Offered was He for greatest and for least, Himself the Victim, and Himself the Priest. Victims were offered by the law of old, Which in a type this heavenly mystery told. He, Ransomer from death, and Light from shade, Now gives His holy grace His saints to aid. Approach ye then with faithful hearts sincere, And take the safeguard of salvation here. He, that His saints in this world rules and shields, To all believers life eternal yields. With heavenly bread makes them that hunger whole, Gives living waters to the thirsting soul, Alpha and Omega, to Whom shall bow All nations at the doom, is with us now.

  Play

  source: Cyberhymnal

• [1Co 11:24] Till He Come

  “Till He come,” O let the words Linger on the trembling chords, Let the “little while” between In their golden light be seen; Let us think how Heaven and home Lie beyond that, “Till He come.” When the weary ones we love Enter on their rest above, Seems the earth so poor and vast, All our life joy overcast? Hush, be every murmur dumb; It is only, “Till He come.” Clouds and conflicts round us press; Would we have one sorrow less? All the sharpness of the cross, All that tells the world is lost, Death and darkness, and the tomb, Only whisper, “Till He come.” See, the feast of love is spread, Drink the wine, and break the bread; Sweet memorials, till the Lord Calls us round His heavenly board; Some from earth, from glory some Severed only, “Till He come.”

  Play

  source: Cyberhymnal

1 Corinthians 12:8

• [1Co 12:8] Behold The Messengers Of Christ

  Behold the messengers of Christ, Who bear to every place, The unveiled mysteries of God, The Gospel of His grace. The things through mists and shadows dim By holy prophets seen, In the full light of day they saw With not a cloud between. What Christ, true Man, divinely wrought, What God in manhood bore, They wrote, as God inspired, in words That live forevermore. Although in space and time apart, One Spirit ruled them all; And in their sacred pages still We hear that Spirit’s call. To God, the blessèd Three in One, Be glory, praise, and might, Who called us from the shades of death To His own glorious light.

  Play

  source: Cyberhymnal

• [1Co 12:8] From Thee All Skill And Science Flow

  From Thee all skill and science flow, All pity, care and love, All calm and courage, faith and hope; O pour them from above. And part them, Lord, to each and all, As each and all shall need, To rise, like incense, each to Thee, In noble thought and deed. And hasten, Lord, that perfect day When pain and death shall cease; And Thy just rule shall fill the earth With health, and light, and peace. When ever blue the sky shall gleam, And ever green the sod; And man’s rude work deface no more The paradise of God. Accept this building, gracious Lord, No temple though it be; We raised it for our suffering kin, And so, good Lord, for Thee. Accept our little gift, and give, To all who may here dwell, The will and power to do their work, Or bear their sorrows well.

  Play

  source: Cyberhymnal