RSCM Report, Part Five: The Conclusion of the Matter

What is to become of these young people? Not just the ones here, but the young adults of Spain where there are not enough jobs, the children in Greece abandoned by their parents because they cannot care for them, the child soldiers of Sudan, poor and hungry children everywhere? Last winter's unusual cold in Europe, this summer's drought, crop failures and wildfires in the United States are perhaps harbingers that this is the generation that will reap the fruit of a century of excess. At present, the “one percent” of the world are firmly in control, grinding the poor into the dust. But their days are numbered:

He hath filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he hath sent empty away.

I believe that the hand of God is at work among the children and youth that I teach in our parish choir, the RSCM choristers, and their peers throughout the world. A new thing is coming.

The future that seems least likely is the one that I would wish for these choristers: long, quiet, and prosperous lives, and peace for our nation. But I see signs that this generation may equal the “Greatest Generation” of the Depression, World War and its aftermath, both in the trials that they will face and in the way that they will rise to the challenge, by God's grace:

When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
the rivers of woe shall not thee overflow;
for I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
and sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
my grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply;
the flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine.
(“K,” in Rippon's Selection, 1787 [sung at the closing Eucharist])

I am old; I will not live long into these days. I must use the time remaining to me to equip them for their task, not knowing what that task will be nor what they will need. This I know: they will need the Song, they will need each other, and they will need the Lord their God.

Even by next summer's Course, food may be much more expensive and perhaps scarce, and worse times may come. But we have food of which this world knows nothing:

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lack'd anything.

A guest, I answer'd, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?

Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?
My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.
(George Herbert: anthem text from the Course)