Pera Niyama Lesin

As appointed long before, out of a thousand,
the God who called us
in great wonder, from the mother’s womb,
Jesus who chose us

It is not by our own power,
it is by the power of God
it is not by our own wisdom,
it is the will of God

In our weak and frail lives
you bore every one of our sins
you called us not slaves
but said that we are your friends

It is not by our own power,
it is by the power of God
it is not by our own wisdom,
it is the will of God

Like the branches of a vine,
may we all cling and hold fast
bearing fruit as you desire,
abiding in you forever

As appointed long before, out of a thousand,
the God who called us
in great wonder, from the mother’s womb,
Jesus who chose us

This is a hymn about being chosen by God, and its whole spirit is grateful wonder at grace rather than pride in oneself. It opens on a startling claim drawn straight from Scripture, that God chose his people “long before, out of a thousand,” and even “from the mother’s womb,” an echo of the biblical idea that God knows and calls people before they are born. The tone is amazement: that the God of all would single out this ordinary singer.

The refrain guards carefully against any self-congratulation. “It is not by our own power, it is by the power of God; it is not by our own wisdom, it is the will of God.” Everything good in the believer’s life is credited to God, not to human merit. And the middle verse shows why such humility is possible: “in our weak and frail lives you bore every one of our sins,” and, in one of the loveliest lines Jesus ever spoke, “you called us not slaves but said that we are your friends.”

The song closes with the vine, Jesus’ own image of himself and his followers: “like the branches of a vine, may we all cling and hold fast, bearing fruit as you desire, abiding in you forever.” The chosen life is not a trophy but a calling, to stay joined to Christ and be fruitful. What the listener is left with is the deep security of being wanted by God before one ever did anything to deserve it, and the gentle responsibility that comes with it: to remain close, and to bear good fruit.