The theme of this hymn may sound like a daunting task in the midst of Lent and lockdown. For some of those who have themselves suffered from the pandemic or who had to see loved ones die, it may even feel cruel to hear verses about how we are to “thank (…) our God, with heart and hands and voices, who wondrous things have done, in whom this world rejoices”.

Two weeks ago, hearing such verses, as this hymn unexpectedly came up on my playlist, certainly created mixed feelings in me. On the previous day, I had been informed that, in addition to my grandparents having their COVID-19 vaccination delayed for another few weeks due to shortages in Germany, my 94-year-old Grandfather had also just suffered a heart attack. He was about to undergo heart surgery, and no-one was allowed to visit him in the hospital. Never, throughout the pandemic, had I and my family, felt the weight of international travel restrictions and visiting rules so keenly, as when we were fearing for my grandfather’s life without being able to see either him or one another (and I can barely imagine the pains of those having lost loved ones without the chance to say goodbye). Of all the emotions I felt at that moment, thankfulness did not seem like the most intuitive. However, hearing the hymn still oddly resonated with me that day - perhaps more so than ever.

A closer look into the hymn’s origins, can help understand why that may be: Indeed, the hymn’s author, Martin Rinkart, a 17^th century German Lutheran Pastor, had written these verses not at a moment of joyful jubilation, but during the Thirty-Years’ war in the midst of violence, famine and plague. In fact, around the time of the hymn’s creation, Rinkart was the only surviving Pastor in the city of Eilenberg and had to conduct up to 50 funerals in a day and 4000 funerals in a year, including that of his own wife. Pastor Rinkart knew pain and suffering and yet, he felt inspired to write and sing about “All praise and thanks to God the Father now be given”.

In doing so, Rinkart and his hymn point to a paradoxical, but powerful experience in the life of many Christians, namely the consoling and liberating effect of gratitude to God, not only in moments of joy but also – and perhaps particularly so – in moments of death and suffering. Knowing and acknowledging the limitations of our own powers and embracing our ultimate dependency on His grace can lift a heavy burden from our shoulders. It can help us come to terms with others’ and our own expectations and to recognise the things we can still be grateful for. Perhaps, most importantly it can help us see the light of God’s grace, of hope and faith shining even brighter in the darkness.

My grandfather often seems to remember this truth better than I do. Having only barely recovered from his heart attack, and having his heart capacity now reduced to 15%, last Sunday, my mother drove him and my grandmother to the vaccination centre to finally get their jabs. As my grandfather got out of the car, he was humming a familiar tune: “Now thank we all our God”.

Tobias is a Junior Research Fellow in Politics and Religion at Pembroke College. He loves cycling, running and is an enthusiastic (though untalented) singer of hymns.