It’s Almighty God who this work began
Fulfillment of it belongs in his hands
If you love me if you love me, son,
Keep closely my commands
 
A voice in the desert crying out
To One conformed for life’s account
Help us give balm to callous drought
And live such words in joy espoused

Entomb, enshroud, Submerge, I am gone
Laid to rest to rise in new dawn
Smallest, stillest repose cannot earn 
Worthiness of the phenomenon 

All saints in heaven, do you hear us?
Lord God of hosts, you came to heal us
All saints in heaven, do you hear us?
Lord God of hosts, you came to heal us

We implore your help, John Paul the Great
Dominic, show us with your love to pray
Hear us, little flower of Lisieux 
Teach us smallness to be like you
 
John Vianney, your prayer avail
Pour out guidance, Francis de Sales
Padre Pio, plead on our behalf
Keep us foll’wing in your priestly path
 
Joseph, worker, instructor of trust
Grasping to be upright and just
Virgin, blessed, our sweet Advocate
In your footsteps, may we submit
 
All saints in heaven, do you hear us?
Lord God of hosts, you came to heal us
All saints in heaven, do you hear us?
Lord God of hosts, you came to heal us

Silently from high the dove descending 
Making feeble man some kind of ready
From Peter’s hands how can I be worthy
Of such a task now pressed into me?

Weathered rags once strangled me with greed
clothe me with love; robe me in your peace
Gentle with a heart so lowly 
On your shoulders my yoke laid wholly

For sacredness reserve these palms
Bearing remnants of our common call 
Found in the mysteries all time through
A promise that I am always with you
 
It’s Almighty God who this work began
Fulfillment of it belongs in his hands
 
The peace of Christ with the Spirit’s descent 
When you were sent, when you were sent
You had no bag, no sandals, but scarcity
But did you lack anything?

For The Priests In Grand Rapids

Marcus Baron