Not to us be glory given

1.
Not to us be glory given,
Lord of mercy, Lord of might;
By the walls of steadfast Derry
You still call us into light.
Those who once kept watch in silence
Where the river meets the hill
Lived in vows of prayer and service;
Shape our hearts to serve you still.

2.
Idols shaped by human longing
Cannot hear and cannot save;
But your living breath is moving
Over hillside, field, and wave.
Grant us, like those ancient wardens
Clad in courage, not in fame,
Strength to guard the lost and weary,
Hope to shield the weak in shame.

3.
You remember us with kindness,
You who formed the ash and stone;
Bless the ones who walk this island,
Bless the ones who stand alone.
From the Foyle’s enduring waters
To the coast where breakers roar,
Make our service warm with welcome,
Make our justice speak once more.

4.
We will trust you, Holy Father;
We will trust you, faithful Son;
Spirit, flame on northern barley,
Bind your pilgrim people one.
Not to us be glory given—
Yours the honour, yours the praise;
Send us forth as vowed companions,
Peaceful guardians for these days.

Hymn information

First line: Not to us be glory given
Text: Michael McFarland Campbell
Metre: 87 87 D
Tune: Blaenwern.
Theme: Psalm 115

Reflection

Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory” (Psalm 115).

This hymn begins with a refusal—not to us be glory given. In a culture shaped by recognition and visibility, it turns us back toward the living God, whose name—not ours—endures.

Like the psalm, it contrasts the God who breathes and remembers with idols that cannot hear or save. What we trust shapes who we become. Here, that trust leads not to silence or pride, but to service.

The imagery of Derry’s walls and watchfulness recalls lives shaped by prayer and quiet faithfulness. There are faint echoes here of older vows—of orders that bound prayer to duty—but the hymn reshapes that instinct, not for battle, but for mercy. Strength becomes care: guarding the lost, shielding the weak, standing with those who are alone.

God’s remembrance, so central to the psalm, is echoed in the hymn’s gentle assurance: “You remember us with kindness.” This is a faith rooted in place and people—Foyle, hillside, coast—where grace is lived out in welcome and justice.

In the end, the hymn sends us out not as heroes, but as companions: trusting, serving, and bearing peace.

Not to us—but through us.

Copyright 

© Michael McFarland Campbell. 2026. 
Permission granted for local church or parish use with attribution. Not for commercial reproduction.

Written recently and shared here as part of the NeuroDivine hymn collection.