All your works praise you, LORD; your faithful people extol you. Psalm 145:10

Ode: a lyric poem exalting someone or something in a very elaborate way.

In just a few days, summer will officially move over for fall. Realistically, summer is already over. It is cold, windy and the gardens froze black overnight. This summer was abundantly filled with family visits and long, sun filled days outside in this beautiful country. I can’t remember another which I enjoyed as much. It was both prose and poetry, like a good book I didn’t want to end and like a poem wiggling inside.

This post is neither an ode nor poetry. For some of us former English Lit majors the lyricism of the English Romantic Poets still stirs our hearts to dream about writing great poetry ourselves. Now however, poems like John Keats’ “Ode to a Grecian Urn” speak of youthful daydreams rather than the autumnal season I’m settled into. Ancient pottery doesn’t inspire me to loftiness.

There’s another “ode” with which many of us are familiar. Beethoven’s last movement in his 9th Symphony, “Ode to Joy” was set to a poem by Friedrich Schiller. Two beats into the magnificent score and we’re compelled to at least hum along. Search the Internet and you find it’s a standard choice for flash mob performances in public places. especially around the holidays. The powerful music lifts us to soar higher.

Schiller’s poem came out of German mythology and personified joy as “daughter of Elysium” where the gods resided. Beethoven worked the same Teutonic worldview into his Ode, celebrating freedom and joy of the human spirit. Then in 1907 Henry Van Dyke wrote new lyrics to Beethoven’s piece, transforming it into the hymn “Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee”. It seems to be based on Psalms 104 and 148, praises to God the Creator as joy bursts forth from all creation.

Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee, God of glory, Lord of love;
Hearts unfold like flowers before Thee, opening to the sun above.
Melt the clouds of sin and sadness; drive the dark of doubt away;
Giver of immortal gladness, fill us with the light of day!

Isn’t this the response the Lord would always have from us – joy, praise, music and poetry coming out of our pores? We are born to be poets in God’s eyes for we are created in His own image, sharing in His creative character. What comes out of us in praise and thanksgiving to Him stirs inexplicable joy because we know that impossibly, the dust can sing! Clay can write poetry. Dry bones can dance. Humankind is wired for exaltation.

And so as summer ends I offer joyful praise. May the Lord be praised for sun drenched days and cool mountain nights; for days filled with surprises outside my door- be it snake or squirrel, bluebird or black raven, tender roses or wild geraniums. I thank Him for family and friends visiting, especially our grandkids who are joy magnets. For every moment in the darkness and for every lesson learned, for hot sleepless nights when I found Presence in prayer, Lord, thank you. I exalt and praise that Your Word on Sunday mornings becomes my ode of freedom in the market place.

I am no Schiller or Keats and can’t compose symphonies; I’d really have to work hard to write a formal ode. Greek vases and gods of the imagination don’t inspire me any more. Jesus’ Holy Spirit does. It’s His Word which breathes life and poetry into words such as mine and these.

Mortals, join the happy chorus, which the morning stars began;
Father love is reigning o’er us, brother love binds man to man.
Ever singing, march we onward, victors in the midst of strife,
Joyful music leads us Sunward in the triumph song of life. Henry Van Dyke 1907