Devotional

Then He said to His disciples, "The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into His harvest field." Matthew 9:37, 38.

    We hear many missionary sermons in our churches, but not often do we sing such a beautifully worded and challenging missionary hymn as this one, which was quickly and spontaneously written by Reginald Heber. These well-chosen words and ideas inspire us to spread the blessings of salvation to all people and nations until our Lord "in bliss returns to reign."
    Heber was a minister in the Anglican church in England. With his keen interest in world missions, he did much through his writings and influence to promote the missionary activity that greatly increased during his lifetime.
   Heber was visiting his father-in-law’s home one Saturday evening, and a service with a missionary theme was planned for the next day. His father-in-law (the pastor of the church) wondered if Heber could write something for them to sing. Heber went to the other side of the room, away from the buzz of conversation, and in minutes returned with the first three verses. “There, there, that will do nicely,” said the vicar — who had an aversion to long hymns. “No, no,” responded Heber, “the sense is incomplete.” And he sat down and wrote a fourth verse. Even then, he wasn’t satisfied. He begged to be allowed time to add another, but the vicar wouldn’t hear of it. One wonders what we’d have received, if he’d been allowed to continue. The hymn was published in the Evangelical Magazine in July 1821. It is considered one of the finest missionary hymns in the English language.
    Five years later the tune was composed specifically for Heber's text by the noted American educator and church musician, Lowell Mason. It is said that Mason composed this tune with a great sense of inspiration.
    Today, Reginald Heber is ranked as one of the foremost 19th century English hymnists, having written 57 well-known hymns, including Holy, Holy, Holy. As a result of his zeal for missions, he became an Anglican bishop to Calcutta, India, but died there at the age of 43. Notice how large is the Lord's harvest field.

From Greenland’s icy mountains, from India’s coral strand;
Where Afric’s sunny fountains roll down their golden sand:
From many an ancient river, from many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver their land from error’s chain.

What though the spicy breezes blow soft o’er Ceylon’s isle;
Though every prospect pleases, and only man is vile?
In vain with lavish kindness the gifts of God are strown;
The heathen in his blindness bows down to wood and stone.

Shall we, whose souls are lighted with wisdom from on high,
Shall we to those benighted the lamp of life deny?
Salvation! O salvation! The joyful sound proclaim,
Till earth’s remotest nation has learned Messiah’s Name.

Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, and you, ye waters, roll
Till, like a sea of glory, it spreads from pole to pole:
Till o’er our ransomed nature the Lamb for sinners slain,
Redeemer, King, Creator, in bliss returns to reign.