Hymnodista

Epiphany 2012

2012-01-06T10:57:00.001-08:00

Matthew 2:2 "Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage."

On this day we observe Epiphany, the appearing or manifestation of Christ to the three magi. On most other days of the year, though, we use the term “epiphany” to denote a sudden revelation, or a flash of insight. For a long time, I have thought of epiphanic experiences as rather passive. I go about my day, doing my ordinary activities, when all of a sudden a startling vision materializes before my very eyes. I did nothing special to cause this epiphany, it simply happened to me.

But it has recently occurred to me that epiphanies are just as much about the reception of visions as the spontaneous manifestation of them. How do we make sense of what we see? How do we understand that which is before our eyes? How do we reconcile what we have sought with what we have found (or perhaps with what has found us)?

I think the magi would have understood this. They were astrologers, after all. They made their living seeking truth from the stars – constantly searching, finding, interpreting, and eventually proclaiming. On this particular Epiphany, the star reminds me that the task of meaning-making is one we all share.

On Advent and Active Waiting

2011-12-05T11:48:00.000-08:00

Most Americans I know despise waiting. In fact, we do just about everything we can to avoid waiting. And when we do find ourselves waiting, we try to pretend that we’re not. We attempt to look productive. We read books or magazines. We stare blankly at televisions, or laptops, or we mess with our phones or IPods. And our culture provides us with constant aural and visual stimulation distracting us from the wait, distracting us from ourselves, distracting us from the world around us.

The problem with waiting is that it feels like we’re doing nothing. And so we attempt to eradicate waiting from our everyday lives. We constantly pass over these fantastic opportunities to practice this crucial life skill. It’s as though we’re afraid of waiting, afraid of being in that in-between space, suspended between now and then. Because if we turn off the TV, we might discover that we don’t know how to be together anymore. If we turn off the music, we don’t know what kind of thoughts might surface to fill the silence. If we get rid of the distractions and actually notice the world around us, we might feel compelled to do something about it. If we truly commit to waiting, we might come face to face with ourselves, with our demons, or even worse, with God. And that can be frightening.

What, then, are we to do with Advent? How do we deal with this season of waiting and preparation? How shall we wait, and for what or whom do we wait? For me, Advent is a time to prepare for transformation, particularly the kind of transformation I witness in the personal and social ministries of Jesus. It’s a time to be honest about the state of our lives, our communities and the world. It’s a time to start seeing things differently, to acknowledge suffering and injustice instead of pretending they’re not there. It’s a time to confront those things we normally mask or avoid… those things we’re afraid of discovering in the silence, in the waiting.

There’s reason why people in the bible speak so often about fearing God. There’s a reason why shepherds fall on their faces when angels appear. Because real encounter is intense. Real relationship turns your life on its head. Real connection leads to real change. And that is what God has in store for us with the Christ child. Isn’t that worth the wait?

On Memory and the Making of History

2011-10-28T10:28:00.000-07:00

I often think of November as a month of remembrance. It begins with All Saints’ Day – a day to remember those persons who once lived and moved among us in body, but whose presences now grace our lives through memory. On Thanksgiving, despite family squabbles that may temporarily cloud our otherwise sound judgment, we attempt to recall those things for which we are thankful. In other words, we gather together our memories of blessings and abundance.

As a historian, I think about memory a lot. I examine records of the past to try to unearth what the past felt like when it was still the present. A hopeless task, ultimately. I have come to question whether or not we can ever really know anything about the past – even our own pasts. Memories, after all, are not accurate snapshots of what actually happened, but the impressions our minds create about the past. Historical records tend to tell us more about their authors than about the people and events they actually describe. Historical facts, ultimately, are statements made by someone who wants us to remember a person, place or event in a particular way.

Many of the books in the bible have been written in a historical style. In books such as Exodus, our ancestors in faith offer us their memories of their relationship with God. Is it possible that they got some of the “facts” wrong? Entirely. Did they have social and political agendas when creating their histories? Certainly. Does this make their writings any less valuable today? Not one bit. We also have our own histories of following, rejecting, wondering about and wrestling with God. These stories resonate with the spirit of our ancestors. Their God is our God, their flaws are our flaws, their triumphs ours. We claim these stories not because they present us with sterile facts, but because they are shot through with the joy and challenge and pain that we encounter as followers of God traveling through the wilderness. Memory alters and time distorts, but the Spirit of God still breathes through our past, present and future. Let us remember the old, old story even as we write a new one.

Wesleyan Covenant Prayer

2010-03-31T16:31:00.000-07:00

I am no longer my own, but thine.
Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed for thee or laid aside for thee,
exalted for thee or brought low for thee.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal.
And now, O glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, thou are mine, and I am thine.
So be it.
And the covenant which I have made on earth,
let it be ratified in heaven.
Amen.

A Psalm of Resurrection

2010-03-21T19:31:00.000-07:00

O Creative Spirit, Quickening Fire,

You who moves me out of my apathy:

To you I ascribe all wisdom and potential.

There were times of darkness, times of confusion,

Times of pain and silent suffering.

In times such as these, I have turned from you,

Relying instead on my own feeble abilities,

On my weak attempts to take control.

I thank you for leading me out of myself;

When I reached the end of my strength,

You saved me from myself.

You offered me visions of a new world;

You put a new song in my mouth.

Blessed be the God of second chances.

Blessed be the God of reason and purpose,

of spontaneity and holy abandon.

Blessed be our God - ever ancient, ever new.

Minor Key for a Major Season

2009-05-01T08:33:00.000-07:00

For me, Easter always conjures up the image of a sanctuary draped with white and gold cloth, filled with fragrant lilies, packed with people wearing their finest pastels, singing out at the top of their lungs the best and most exuberant music the hymnal (or Handel) has to offer.

Now this music I imagine is generally in a major key. After all, a major key is usually associated with happy emotions. This is how many people learn to distinguish a major key from a minor key: Does it sound happy or sad/angry? Though initially a useful pedagogical tool, this distinction does not always reflect musical reality. I think, for example, of music in the Jewish and Irish traditions. Some of the liveliest music from these traditions is rendered in a minor key (think klezmer, or an Irish reel). By the same token, much Irish and Jewish music expresses intensely sorrowful emotions in a major key.

I have listed below four of my favorite “minor” Easter hymns found in The United Methodist Hymnal (1989). I have only heard one of these hymns used with any regularity in United Methodist congregations (“O Sons and Daughters”) – the rest seem to be neglected in favor of bombastic Easter standards. I find, though, that the minor key can heighten a sense of longing for Christ’s return and evoke the intimacy that permeates stories of resurrection appearances. Try them out and see what you think – if not on Easter Sunday, then some other time during the Easter season.

Camina, Pueblo de Dios (Walk On, O People of God), UMH 305
Words: Cesareo Gabaraín, trans. by George Lockwood, 1987
Music: NUEVA CREACIÓN, Cesareo Gabaraín; harm. by Juan Luis García, 1987
Three stanzas in both Spanish and English

On the Day of Resurrection, UMH 309
Words: Michael Peterson, 1984
Music: EMMAUS, Mark Sedio, 1984; harm. by Charles H. Webb, 1987
Text is based on Luke 24:13-35, the walk to Emmaus.

Cristo Vive (Christ is Risen), UMH 313
Words: Nicolás Martínez, 1960; trans. by Fred Kaan, 1972
Music: CENTRAL, Pablo D. Sosa, 1960
Text is based on 1 Corinthians 15, which addresses resurrection
Three stanzas in both Spanish and English
Performance note: I like to take the eighth note C in the bass down an octave (the second eighth note of most measures in the first half of the hymn). It punctuates the offbeat and gives the effect of a large bell tolling.

O Sons and Daughters, Let Us Sing, UMH 317
Words: Jean Tisserand, 15th cent.; trans. by John Mason Neale, 1851, alt.
Music: O FILII ET FILIAE, 15th cent. French carol; harm. by Charles H. Webb, 1987
Stanzas 1-5 suggested for Easter Sunday, stanzas 1, 6-9 suggested for the following Sunday

Moravian Stars

2009-03-25T08:58:00.000-07:00

I was attempting to sermonize last Saturday on the topic of disenchantment. The fact that I had just finished a stressful week of reading and writing (“academizing,” if you will…) meant that my few functioning synapses were running on empty. I ended up being disenchanted with the sermon and much more enchanted with the Apartment Therapy website. Now that the sermon has been preached, I thought I might try to combine some of my liturgical and home deco interests into one blog entry. Ready?

The image above comes from the Moravian Bookshop website. I learned about Moravian stars when I first became interested in Moravian influences on Methodist hymnody. This particular type of star was first crafted around 1850 in a handiwork class at the Moravian boys’ school in Niesky, Germany. The design became quite popular and for many years was produced exclusively in Germany.

Glass stars make excellent Advent/Christmas gifts, while paper stars would serve as cheery, homespun additions to Christmas trees in either home or sanctuary. Lighted plastic stars could brighten a house or apartment year-round, especially in a nursery or a child’s bedroom.

For additional info:
www.moravianbookshop.com
www.moravianstars.com
www.lenox.com Even Lenox now sells a small, lighted Moravian star. Incidentally, it’s the least expensive one I came across.

Faithful Food

2009-03-06T08:51:00.000-08:00

Several years ago, I served as co-coordinator of the Methodist student group at Yale Divinity School. One of my favorite responsibilities of this position was planning and leading worship every few weeks. While I was a student at YDS, there happened to be several individuals in the student body who were interested in food. I mean REALLY interested in food, especially the connection between food and faith. It was this gastronomic dynamic combined with my love of the annual "Hearty Eucharist" that gave me the idea to throw a biblical feast. I searched the scriptures for references to food, noting how and by whom the food was used. I then put together a service which essentially consisted of an alternation of scripture readings and the partaking of a biblical food. We sampled pomegranates, cheese, bread, olives, etc. We had great attendance, including quite a few non-Methodist students (mostly Lutherans... I don't know what that means). I imagine that such a service would work well for family-oriented worship, or perhaps as an expanded version of a love feast.

Suggested hymns from The United Methodist Hymnal:

97 "For the Fruits of This Creation"

599 "Break Thou the Bread of Life"

621 "Be Present at Our Table, Lord"

629 "You Satisfy the Hungry Heart"

632 "Draw Us in the Spirit's Tether"

Suggested hymns from The Faith We Sing:

2061 "Praise Our God Above (Harvest Song)"

2132 "You Who Are Thirsty"

2265 "Time Now to Gather"

George Herbert and Lent

2009-02-26T12:49:00.000-08:00

I have just recently become interested in the connection between John Wesley (18th century Church of England priest and founder of Methodism) and George Herbert (17th century Church of England priest and famed poet). In my own studies, I tend to focus on the Germanic influences upon John Wesley, especially as they play out in Methodist hymn and tune books. But as I was investigating the sources of texts for early Methodist hymn books, I was surprised to learn just how much Wesley relied on Herbert's poetry. As many of Herbert's poem's were written in poetic meters unsuitable for singing, John Wesley tweaked the text to make them fit within standard hymn meters. Wesley also used the opportunity to inject his own preferred theological flavor. Below is a comparison of Herbert's "Dialogue" from The Temple (1633) with Wesley's revision.

Herbert original:

Sweetest Savior, if my soul
Were but worth the having,
Quickly should I then control
Any thought of waving.
But when all my care and pains
Cannot give the name of gains
To thy wretch so full of stains;
What delights or hope remains?

What (child) is the balance thine,
Thine the poise and measure?
If I say, Thou shalt be mine;
Finger not my treasure.
What the gains in having thee
Do amount to, only be,
Who for man was sold, can see;
That transferr’d th’accounts to me.

But as I can see no merit,
Leading to this favor:
So the way to fit me for it,
Is beyond my savor.
As the reason then is thine;
So the way is none of mine;
I disclaim the whole design:
Sin disclaims and I resign.

That is all, if that I could
Get without repining;
Any my clay my creature would
Follow my resigning.
That as I did freely part
With my glory and desert,
Left all joys to feel all smart-
Ah! no more: thou break’st my heart.

Wesley revision:

1. Saviour, if thy precious Love
Could be merited by mine,
Faith these Mountains would remove;
Faith would make me ever Thine
But when all my Care and Pains
Worth can ne’er create in Me,
Nought by me thy Fulness gains;
Vain the Hope to purchase Thee.

2. (C.) Cease, my Child, thy Worth to weigh,

Give the needless Contest o’er:
Mine Thou art! While thus I say,
Yield Thee up, and ask no more.
What thy Estimate may be,
Only can by Him be told,
Who to ransom Wretched Thee,
Thee to gain, Himself was sold.

3. (S.) But when All in Me is Sin,
How can I thy Grace obtain?
How presume Thyself to win?
God of Love, the Doubt explain—
Or if Thou the Means supply,
Lo! To Thee I All resign!
Make me, Lord, (I ask not why,
How, I ask not) ever thine!

4. (C.) This I would—That humbly still
Thou submit to my Decree,
Gladly subjecting thy Will,
Meekly copying after Me:
That as I did leave my Throne;
Freely from my Glory part;
Die, to make thy Heart my own---
(S.) Ah! No more—Thou break’st my Heart!

If you are interested in exploring more of Herbert's poetry, the CCEL website provides a daily Lenten devotional based on Herbert's texts. Some of the language has been modernized, but each devotion includes a link to the original.

http://www.ccel.org/h/herbert/temple/LenTreeFrames.html

Hymn text

2009-02-05T07:05:00.000-08:00

I regret that I have been somewhat negligent in my blogging over the past two weeks. A new semester has begun, and once again my routine has been turned upside down. But such is the life of an academic! In my attempt to catch up, I'll start by offering a hymn text of mine that I recently rediscovered by accident. I do not consider myself a poet by any stretch of the imagination, and I am much more comfortable creating tunes as opposed to texts, but I am also a firm believer in the practice of sharing liturgical resources, however meager they may be. With that, I offer you exactly one half of my life's textual output.

O Divine Mystery who gave birth to all of creation,

Your reconciling grace joins us in holy relation.

Blest unity! God's binding love sets us free to live as one congregation.

We on earth struggle to recognize you in each other.

Grant us the courage to treat all as sister or brother.

Age, gender, race - distinctive vessels of grace, incomplete without another.

Humbly we ask for your blessing on each land and nation.

Praying that one day we'll join in the great celebration;

singing your song, each voice resounds clear and strong, echoes the cry of salvation.

Suggested tune: LOBE DEN HERREN ("Praise to the Lord, the Almighty")

Wholly Holy

2009-01-21T11:05:00.000-08:00

O Christ, the healer, we have come

to pray for health, to plead for friends.

How can we fail to be restored,

when reached by love that never ends?

How strong, O Lord, are our desires,

how weak our knowledge of ourselves!

Release in us those healing truths

unconscious pride resists or shelves.

Grant that we all, made one in faith,

in your community may find

the wholeness that, enriching us,

shall reach the whole of humankind.

vv. 1, 3, 5

Text: Fred Pratt Green, 1969

Suggested tune: Conditor Alme

A few years ago, I came across a church website that advertised a program called “Tai Chi for Jesus.” Upon first glance, I thought it was the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen. I knew about Tai Chi, and I knew how strongly connected it was to Chinese philosophies, Taoism and Confucianism, as well as Buddhism. It seemed somehow wrong to link this ancient art with the purposes of Jesus. I imagined the traditional tai chi movement names being replaced by biblical themes: “parting wild horse mane” becomes “Moses parting Red Sea,” and “white crane spreading wings” becomes “Holy Spirit descending like dove.”

I recently attended a church-sponsored women's retreat. We were blessed with the presence of a qualified Tai Chi instructor who taught us a few exercises from Qigong, another Chinese art that complements Tai Chi. The basic aim of Qigong, as I understand it, is to increase awareness of the breath and of the energy that flows through the body. If a Christian were to do Qigong, she could very well use the exercises to increase awareness of God and of the movements of the Holy Spirit – which is what many of us attempted to do. After completing the exercises, we all agreed that we felt different. Some said they felt calm and relaxed. Others felt energized and ready to take on the world. For me, it was as though I had done something good for my whole self. I stretched my physical body, I relaxed my mind even as I used it to focus, and I invigorated my soul by tuning in to God’s movement in the world. For once, all the parts were working together.

In the course of our weekly worship, we often acknowledge that we are God’s creation – that God has formed us in God’s image. But for some reason, we tend to forget that God created not only our minds and spirits – the parts unseen – but also our physicality. We come to church to renew our spirits and to edify our minds, but can the church also encourage us to maintain our physical bodies? As members of the body of Christ, the one body made up of many parts, we are called to care for our bodies - our sacred vessels through which God works in mysterious ways. We are also called to care for one another, to encourage each other to treat our bodies well.

The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that it is the church's responsibility to encourage a spirituality of the body – an understanding of our God-given humanity with all the parts working together. After all, an evening walk isn't just something that takes us away from the television, or distracts us from work, but an opportunity to breathe fresh air into the lungs that we use for singing hymns and for speaking justice, a chance to strengthen the legs that carry us out into the world to do God’s work.

I don't think that we necessarily have to trade in our fellowship time cookies for carrot sticks, but I do think we must take care to offer food that benefits both the body and the soul, including the bodies and souls of those who labored to produce it. Perhaps the church could compile a book of nourishing recipes collected from members of the congregation., or begin a meditative walking group, or start a lunch group to discuss ways of staying mentally and spiritually healthy in the work place. Perhaps our liturgies could address the care of the body in terms of wellness, not only in terms of illness.

Our God is not an invisible God who works only in ways unseen and unheard. Our God works in and through tangible things – through ordinary substances like bread and water, in ordinary acts of cleansing and feeding. And to accomplish God’s most stunning miracle, God took on the form of a human body. Echoing the final verse of "O Christ, the healer," I invite you to seek wholeness in your local faith community.

e-piph-a-ny

2009-01-08T08:58:00.000-08:00

+ a Christian festival, observed on January 6, commemorating the manifestation of Christ to the gentiles in the persons of the Magi; Twelfth-day.

+ an appearance or manifestation, esp. of a deity.

+ a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

Random House Unabridged Dictionary, 2006

At the heart of the festival day we call Epiphany is a most supreme manifestation of honor and gratitude - the three Magi appear at the stable to offer royal gifts for the newborn Christ child. But the term "epiphany" also means something similar to a revelation, or an "aha" moment. In the spirit of the season, I would like to share a recent epiphanic moment of mine.

I made it my Advent goal to fully appreciate the wait - to let my eyes adjust to the darkness so that I could experience the slow growth of light from a single flickering flame. I paid special attention to songs of preparation, both sacred and secular. Of course there are countless songs anticipating the arrival of Santa Clause, and a decent number of Advent hymns preparing the way for the birth of Jesus. It occurs to me (and this is the epiphanic moment) that while there are many songs that express excitement about Santa's visit, and many songs and rituals that communicate to Santa the many gifts that both little and big hearts desire, I can't think of a single song that thanks Santa Clause for the gifts that he brought. I cannot imagine that the North Pole post office is flooded with letters of gratitude on December 26.

A former pastor of mine told me a story about his own birth. After all the preparation for his arrival, after the excitement of the actual birth, his relatives finally got to bring him home. They entered the house, set the infant down, looked at one another and exclaimed, "Now what?" That simple phrase of bewilderment must have flown through the minds of the holy parents. The same phrase summarizes my thoughts about this period immediately following Christmas. Before we move on to commemorate Jesus' baptism some 30 years after his birth, what do we do? For weeks we have awaited the moment of birth, and now that it has arrived, what do we do with it?

Perhaps this is the time when we should sing our boisterous carols. Perhaps this is the time to decorate our homes and sanctuaries. What if we watched our holiday movies now? What if we held our holiday festivities now? And why don't we worship with liturgies of thanksgiving and adoration now? After all, isn't this the time when we ought to be rejoicing?

Let us continue our merriment and holy revels. Let us seize our time of celebration. This is the moment - may it not pass us by!

A New Discipline for a New Year

2008-12-28T08:54:00.001-08:00

Between the ages of eight and eighteen, I faithfully wrote in my journal every night. I began by writing the date, and I ended by signing my name. For whatever reason, I had to write at least one full page. After the first few years, I started to look over my previous entries, painful as it was! (One likes to think that one has matured over time, but evidence in support of that claim can still be difficult to look at...) Once I began college, my entries became less and less frequent, and I started to question my motivations for writing. After several years of introspective surveyance and a few thorough readings of Alexandra Johnson's book Leaving a Trace, I have attempted to revive my daily ritual.

I am currently reading a collection of memoirs written by Moravian women who lived during the 18th century. These women wrote accounts of their spiritual lives as a history of their participation in the Moravian community. These memoirs were intended to be read aloud at their funeral. I suppose it is my study of these women combined with my own renewed writing practice that leads me to wonder what a revival of spiritual writing would look like in the modern congregation.

As such an activity presumes a certain level of literacy, it may not be appropriate for all members of the congregation. On the other hand, it may be an opportunity for congregants to collaborate and for families to be creative together. How might spiritual writing be incorporated into the life of the worshipping community?

Spiritual journeys or meditations could be collected and distributed as aids for personal devotion during Lent or another liturgical season
Moravian-style memoirs could be collected and bound as part of the congregation's history
Written prayers could be folded as origami or strung together as a garland and used to enhance liturgical space
Families or faith partners could journal together as a way of being spiritually accountable to God and to one another
Congregants could take note of any questions raised or thoughts inspired by the sermon or other acts of worship as a reminder to follow up later

Do you have other ideas to share? I would gladly welcome your thoughts and suggestions.

Advent Week Four / Christmas

2008-12-23T08:01:00.001-08:00

We have lit the fourth candle of Advent. We have made it through three whole weeks of waiting and hoping and praying. And now the moment we’ve been waiting for has almost arrived. If you can remember the impatience of your childhood, or if you still have a child’s heart, then you will know that it is this moment – the moment before the happening – that is the most exciting.

Frederick Buechner describes it so eloquently in Whistling in the Dark: “The house lights go off and the footlights come on. Even the chattiest stop chattering as they wait in darkness for the curtain to rise. In the orchestra pit, the violin bows are poised. The conductor has raised his baton… The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is matched only by the extraordinary moment just before it happens. Advent is the name of that moment.”

In this breathless moment, we wait for God to break into our lives. And the longer we wait, the heavier the weight of hope and expectation. The longer we spend in the darkness, the more we yearn for the light. The longer we wait in silence, the more we want to shatter that silence.

Following Gabriel’s startling announcement to Mary that she would be the mother of God’s child, she breaks the silence with a song. The text tells us that Mary speaks these words, but I like to think that she sings them:

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’ Luke 1:46-55

How will you break the silence this Christmas? What will be your song? Will you sing out carols with family? Will you break out the guitars with a friend? Will you join in hymns of praise at a place of worship? Or will your soul magnify the Lord with a song beyond all earthly perception?

Advent Week Three

2008-12-16T07:17:00.000-08:00

J O Y

This week we celebrate the joy of an impending actuality. The Christ Child is coming – not in the distant future, but soon and very soon!

While “Come, thou long-expected Jesus” is in many minds the quintessential Wesleyan Advent hymn, I offer a lesser-known text for this week’s reflection. “Light of those whose dreary dwelling” was first published in 1745 in Charles Wesley’s Hymns for the Nativity of Our Lord.

From Christ-in-heaven shines forth beams of love, offering new life, joy and clarity of vision. The first stanza transports us upward to dizzying heights, taking on the perspective of Christ looking down on the clouds below. Christ’s illuminating power is rendered in startling language: “pouring eye-sight on our eyes.” Though we wait still for the appearance of the “universal Saviour,” we wait in the confidence that soon and very soon, our souls will be released from all burdens. Soon and very soon, God will bring the “gospel-grace.” Soon and very soon, our Emmanuel will come.

Light of those whose dreary dwelling

Borders on the shades of death,

Come, and by thy love's revealing,

Dissipate the clouds beneath:

The new heaven and earth's Creator,

In our deepest darkness rise,

Scattering all the night of nature,

Pouring eye-sight on our eyes.

Still we wait for thy appearing,

Life and joy thy beams impart,

Chasing all our fears, and chearing

Every poor benighted heart.

Come, and manifest the favour

God hath for our ransomed race;

Come, thou universal Saviour,

Come, and bring the gospel-grace.

Save us in thy great compassion,

O thou mild pacific Prince,

Give the knowledge of salvation,

Give the pardon of our sins;

By thine all-redeeming merit

Every burdened soul release,

Every weary wandring Spirit

Guide into thy perfect peace.

To view all hymns in this collection, visit http://www.gbod.org/worship/articles/cw1745.html.

Advent Week Two

2008-12-09T05:40:00.001-08:00

P E A C E

Perhaps one of the most evocative images in the bible, Isaiah’s portrait of the peaceable kingdom demonstrates a profound hope in the promise of peace to come. And while I treasure this image of the wolf living with the lamb, the young cows and bears resting together, I long for a more “active” representation of peace. As much as I love the Isaiah passage, the general impression I am left with is somewhat sedentary. I imagine that if one’s only conception of peace stems from an image of opposing parties sitting quietly together, there may be little motivation to work for it. I want to see the calf and the lion worshipping together. I want to see the bear and the cow collaborating on a project to end homelessness in their neck of the woods. I want to see the leopard and the kid gathering food for the ox. I want to see the child and the asp teaching each other songs and games.

This past October, a world-champion Thai youth brass band toured Sri Lanka. Why? To spread peace through music. It is remarkable that such a young contingency would venture into a war-torn area to sing peace into being. It is even more remarkable considering the political situation in Thailand. It is even more striking when one learns that the mostly Buddhist students who comprise the band study at a Roman Catholic school. Peace layered upon peace.

May we be so bold as to hope for peace. May God grant us courage to transform that hope into reality. And may we begin to imagine peace not in terms of resting on the boundaries, but of dancing all over them.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

May all beings be filled with joy and peace.

May all beings everywhere,
The strong and the weak,
The great and the small,
The mean and the powerful,
The short and the long,
the subtle and the gross:

May all beings everywhere,
Seen and unseen,
Dwelling far off or nearby,
Being or waiting to become:
May all be filled with lasting joy.

Let no one deceive another,
Let no one anywhere despise another,
Let no one out of anger or resentment
Wish suffering on anyone at all.

Just as a mother with her own life
Protects her child, her only child, from harm,
So within yourself let grow
A boundless love for all creatures.

Let your love flow outward through the universe,
To its height, its depth, its broad extent,
A limitless love, without hatred or enmity.

Then as you stand or walk,
Sit or lie down,
As long as you are awake,
Strive for this with a one-pointed mind;
Your life will bring heaven to earth.

Sutta Nipata - Buddha's Discourse on Good Will
http://www.interluderetreat.com/prayers.htm

Advent Week One

2008-12-05T11:20:00.000-08:00

H O P E

During this first week of Advent, we wait in the hope that somehow, someday, our broken world will be healed. We ponder our lives, pausing to consider those things that don’t quite align with what we think God would desire for us and our world. We take time to be honest about our longings, about our mental, emotional and physical prisons. What keeps us from being the creatures God created us to be? What stands in the way of our communion with God and the rest of humanity? What restricts our spiritual growth? Advent gives us a new direction for these desires; it presents us with new possibilities. It allows us to hope for change – it gives us license to be so foolish as to expect that the Messiah will actually appear.

This radical hope is both ancient and new. On the one hand, we step into the old, old story; we join Mary and Joseph and the rest of God’s followers as they wait for Christ to join them on earth. But our expectation is more than mere pretending. We also await a disruption. We also expect that God will break into our lives and mend our brokenness. We wait for God to disturb our waters and transform our lives that we may be instruments of God’s healing for the world.

We wait in faith. We wait in prayer. We wait with a holy restlessness.

And we are not ashamed to plead: “O come, O come, Emmanuel!"

God’s word which sounds throughout the world,
Whose mercy wraps us round and round,
In John now finds an urgent voice:
“Repent! God’s grace shall here abound!”

Relentless as the searing sun
Yet gentle as the morning dew,
This voice cries in our wilderness:
“Receive the Gift; be born anew!”

The broken reed will Christ restore,
Frail flames he’ll fan to blazing fire,
With tenderness our wounds he’ll bind,
The flock he shepherds, saved entire.

Anointed with the Spirit’s pow’r,
He’ll preach good news, make strong the weak,
Demanding justice for the poor,
The basic rights that all would seek.

Our eyes, so blind, will see God’s reign
Revealed in those we once ignored;
Our tongues that babble, gossip, rage
Will speak out for the voiceless poor.

Lord Jesus, come: find us awake,
Rehearsing now what is not yet.
This work of God, our works of God,
Your glorious coming manifest! Amen.

Br. Aelred-Seton Shanley, OBL, OSB, CAM.
From Hymns for Morning and Evening Prayer

Giving Thanks

2008-11-24T18:31:00.001-08:00

The Thanksgiving holiday has always conjured up all sorts of pleasant associations for me - home, harvest, tasty food, joyful reunions with friends and family... At the same time, though, I can't help but be reminded of the painful history between Native Americans and white colonists. I have a friend who thinks of Thanksgiving as "Native American Genocide Denial Day." It's not the only holiday about which I have mixed feelings. I suppose there's no such thing as a "pure" holiday; even high holy days can easily accrue cultural trappings that detract from or even contradict original motivations for the occasion. But Thanksgiving does offer us the opportunity to reflect on our history - on our own prejudices and presumptions. It also allows us to celebrate progress and urges us to press onward toward the day when all persons can enjoy the harvest.

"Mountains Are All Aglow"

1. Mountains are all aglow with autumn colors so bright;

rivers are filled with water, giving life to our days.

Golden fields wave their praise to God's bountiful harvest;

gratefully, skyward arising, hear our joyous songs of praise!

Refrain: Reaching far as earthly eyes can see,

reaching far as humble hands can toil,

every harvest is from our Lord;

every blessing is from our God.

Praise for the harvest, thanks to our God.

Praise for the harvest, give praise to God.

2. Every land so abundantly rich the harvest bears;

every orchard is filled with luscious, ripened new fruit.

Sun and rain by the Lord's design shall come at proper time.

Working hard, God has given us reasons for deep gratitude.

Refrain

3. Early spring is the time to sow all God's rich seeds of life.

Working hard, tilling God's earth; making preparation.

Looking forward to rewards of harvest so plentiful;

promised blessings will soon be ours in each revelation.

Refrain

4. Praise the Lord as we're planting God's word deep in each heart.

God has sent sunshine and the rain so the seedlings may grow.

Desert lands which seem barren, flowers still might bloom;

trusting in God's promises, our thanks to God we will show!

Refrain

Words: Ok In Lim, 1967; trans. by Hae Jong Kim, 1988;

versification by Hope Kawashima (Ps. 65:9-13; Acts 14:17)

Music: Jae Hoon Park, 1967

Advent Reflections

2008-11-18T16:57:00.000-08:00

Advent has always been my favorite season of the church year. Maybe it's not kosher for clergy to have a favorite liturgical season, but I do. There's something so exciting about waiting for a promise to be fulfilled, for great expectations to come to pass, for nothing less than a miracle. Each year I try not to let the commercialized holiday culture of instant gratification burst my Advent suspense bubble. Instead, I try to focus on the Christmas story itself - on the hopeful expectation of Mary and indeed the entire community of the faithful who are placing all their bets on this mysterious messiah. I try to take stock of my deepest longings for the world, then I imagine what it would be like if - just maybe - this year they might come true. I revel in the unknown - I wait with the weight of God's promise. It's not easy to live for four weeks in suspense, and it must have been an extraordinarily long nine months for the holy parents-to-be. But if they made it through the wait in one piece, then surely I can, too.

"View the Present through the Promise"
Thomas H. Troeger

View the present through the promise,
Christ will come again.
Trust despite the deepening darkness,
Christ will come again.
Lift the world above its grieving
through your watching and believing
in the hope past hope's conceiving:
Christ will come again.

Probe the present with the promise,
Christ will come again.
Let your daily actions witness,
Christ will come again.
Let your loving and your giving
and your justice and forgiving
be a sign to all the living:
Christ will come again.

Match the present to the promise,
Christ will come again.
Make this hope your guiding premise,
Christ will come again.
Pattern all your calculating
and the world you are creating
to the advent you are waiting:
Christ will come again.

Borrowed Light: Hymn texts, prayers, and poems
Oxford University Press, 1994