MWM: a future filled with hope (995)

If you were looking for something about President Obama or the new U.S. budget or same-sex marriage (or healthcare reform, or some hopeless initiative to label GMOs in our food, or Korea, or anything related to the current geopolitical situation to get upset about [or to agree with]), you won’t find it here.  As far as I’m concerned, there can be no transcendent, ultimate hope in a political nation.

Rather, we look to the second coming of Jesus . . . no, we long for that parousia.  We place our firm hope — and this is no wispy wish! — in the future event, knowing by faith that all present joys will be magnified beyond belief, and all temporary struggles will be erased.

Aside:  incidentally, one of the two or three primary “second coming” texts, 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18, was probably not intended as a focus of Paul’s message.  It is a highly significant text, and not to be ignored, but neither does it constitute the main thrust of a letter that deals more in relationship and in walking/living Christianly.

So, what will the first day be like — that first “day” after Jesus’ return?  (Days may not exist, as such, but they might not have existed during the creation of the world, either.)  What might we imagine in terms of our own presence in that moment of all moments, that event to end all earthly events?  How will it be for me?  I have no idea, really, but I know, by faith, that my spirit’s awareness of God will eclipse all else.

I shared words from this favored song in the past and would like to do so again now, more completely and with commentary:

“Still, Still With Thee” (Harriet B. Stowe)

Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh,
When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee;
Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight,
Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee.
 
Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows,
The solemn hush of nature newly born;
Alone with Thee in breathless adoration,
In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.
 
As in the dawning o’er the waveless ocean
The image of the morning star doth rest,
So in the stillness Thou beholdest only
Thine image in the waters of my breast.
 
When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber,
Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer;
Sweet the repose beneath the wings o’ershading,
But sweeter still to wake and find Thee there.
 
So shall it be at last, in that bright morning,
When the soul waketh and life’s shadows flee;
O in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning,
Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee.

One and Two:  The first two stanzas, unified, poetically express the encounter of the eternal in terms of a resplendent, earthly daybreak.  All the beauties of the dawning of a new day while in a natural surroundings are, however, eclipsed by the breathless adoration of our stunningly brilliant God.

Three:  I didn’t previously know this stanza.  Its message is a simpler, more confined, yet remarkably redemptive, one:  The saved person is not even “seen” by God as himself … no, because of having put on Jesus Christ, what the holy, exacting God does see is the image of the spotless Lamb.  If this soteriological truth were not present, all the poetic beauty in the world could not resolve the need for atonement, and this salvation-less situation would require our spiritual death to an eternal existence with God.

Four:  as death appears imminent, and even potentially in the actual experience of dying, the believing soul casts his eyes in faith toward God.  As a foreshadowing of the final rest, for the human who experiences the Lord’s protective peace, a certain rest may come.  Yet a humanly experienced peace is neither satisfying nor absolute.  The waking — the arising to a consciousness of a Presence like no other — this is the completion.

Five:  there is no more lofty, no more finally fulfilling thought than to be with God forever.  Come, Lord Jesus, and take Your bride home.

==============

[This is an installment in the Monday Worship Music series.  Find other, related posts through this link.]

MWM: Adolphe’s discovery

[This is an installment in the Monday Worship Music series.  Find other, related posts through this link.]

Some discoveries are more significant than others.  Three years ago, I wrote about a more important one — Jim Woodroof’s, actually — that philosophically and practically places the gospels at the center of Christian understanding and practice.  But other discoveries merit a bit of attention now and then, too.

Again and again this simply poetic truth comes to my consciousness, from author/musician Bruce Adolphe:

A good tempo is a discovery.

Adolphe writes rather inclusively of music and life, But I suppose he is read and quoted more by musicians than by philosophers or sociologists.  For my part, in re-appropriating the above quotation, I would like merely to suggest that music in Christian gatherings should be considered in the light of tempo.  There is no one perfect tempo for a song; tempi for each scenario and venue should be discovered individually.  As an example, let me take the relatively contemporary song “10,000 Reasons” by Jonas Myrin and Matt Redman.  

The metronome markings below, semi-paradoxically offered as predetermined, acceptable ranges, are by no means to be taken as absolutes.

1. on original Redman recording:  70-74 bpm
2. in an average, medium sized contemporary church with worship band:  74-78 bpm
3. in small group in a home:  76-84 bpm
4. in an a cappella congregation:  76-96 bpm

Brief explanations of the above:

1. The original “is what it is” (In this case, I’d say it’s a bit on the slow side, but it works fine for Redman, with all the originally planned sonic trappings.)  Unless all the tracks are recorded in the studio with a click track, you can expect some human tempo variation; here, there is just a small range.
2. Given relatively slow originally performed tempos — i.e., slower than average walking pace, for sake of discussion — I would  typically recommend a slight tempo increase for non-professionals.  If any big-name “artists” ever read this, don’t get all high and mighty and say your specific tempo should absolutely be used.  Remember, “a good tempo is a discovery.”
3. In a living room or family room with a small group of less practiced singers, the pacing will generally be better, for these types of songs, if it’s yet a bit faster than in a #2-type group.  (In a larger hall, the tones have time and space to dissipate, but in a small room, music that’s too slow can seem dry, if not dead.)
4. When the slower, contemporary songs originally had a good number of rests and/or sustained tone in the vocal line, as a rule, the tempo should be boosted fairly substantially, in order to avoid too much discomfort with the waiting.

It’s not important that our sensitivities to tempo grow a) because of musical accuracy or even because of aesthetics.  It’s not b) because this or that tempo is right or wrong.  It’s c) because pacing matters in the human experience of so many things — including, but not limited to, automobile travel, conversation, reading, life in general, and music in church gatherings.  Sometimes, giving thought to discovering the right tempo for your group, in your setting, may just enhance worship.

Speaking of worship, I’ve shared the song “10,000 Reasons” with friends on several occasions recently, and it is clear to me that it touches many hearts.  In fact, it is currently #1 on CCLI’s most requested list.  I’ll close with a few of the lyrics.

Verse 2:

You’re rich in love, and You’re slow to anger.
Your name is great, and Your heart is kind.
For all Your goodness I will keep on singing – 
Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find.

Excerpt from chorus:

Sing like never before, O my soul
I’ll worship Your holy name

Words and Music by Jonas Myrin and Matt Redman

© 2011 Thankyou Music (Admin. by EMI Christian Music Publishing).

MWM: First Thing

[This is an installment in the Monday Worship Music series.  Find other, related posts through this link.]

Many years ago, I was inspired — and here, I use the word in a quasi-secular manner, although I don’t discount, at least at points, that God might have been directly involved in “inspiring” — to write a bunch of songs.   Only a few of these have ever been used outside my own direct sphere of influence.  Furthermore, considering the few songs I’ve created in more recent years, although they’ve all seemed worthwhile at the time, appear not to be stylistically attractive these days.  Some of my creations were probably never destined to be sung, even if I’d been given the right opportunity at the right time years ago.  One such song is “First Thing in the Morning,” composed between 17 and 19 years ago.

Based on stanzas 1,2,5, and 6 of Isaac Watts’s “Early, My God, Without Delay,” my own ”First Thing in the Morning” is a loose paraphrase-and-excursus that initially grew out of my admiration for Watts’s expressions.  As the song developed, it also came to incorporate thoughts from Psalm 63, which has long been a favorite.  The work is specifically conceived for four finely honed voices — three trebles and one light tenor who can also sing in the baritone range with some authority.  The harmonies are very close, difficult for even most professional musicians, and can still give me goose pimples . . . but I don’t expect that they would strike others similarly.  Truth be told, the music is kind of un-doable.  (Ever heard of an old vocal group called “First Call”?  If they were still in existence and added a fourth voice, they could do it, but no one else I’ve ever heard could.)

Considered overall, this song is a series of connected meditations and amounts to a personal offering that did (does) a world of good for my own spirit but was never destined for a wider audience.  (It’s ironic that I was originally sensing that the Watts verse needed a musical face lift in order to be presentable to the then-contemporary church.  Now, this musical creation is out of style, if it ever was in style!)

With all this ado, I offer here the words and then the first few bars of the music.  Mostly, I would be pleased for readers to share the words with me here, and perhaps worship in spirit.

First thing in the morning, my God –
I will not delay.
I rush to seek Your face!
First thing in the morning, my God –
I rush to seek Your (holy) face!
~ ~ ~
Here I am in the midst of worship;
My eyes are open wide.
Here I am in the midst of worshipping You;
I thirst inside!
~ ~ ~
Seeing You and drinking of You are the most excellent things in my life.
You are my God — Jehovah-Provider — quenching me when life is dry.
~ ~ ~
Father, I hunger.
I can’t get enough of You.
You’re the only One Who satisfies.
After the thunder,
Oh, drench me in Your Spirit’s rain,
Or I will be like one who dies.
~ ~ ~
The best things in life can’t even come close to stirring my soul.
(O my soul, bless the Lord!)
The best things in life can’t even get a song running through my mind.
~ ~ ~
So as long as I live, I will live to make You happy.
And my worship I will give, knowing Your protection and love.
I will worship You with all of my being,
Lifting my hands,
All of me freeing.
I will worship You, Lord, truly with my ev’rything.
Wanting to meet You in spirit, to honor my King.
~ ~ ~
First thing in the morning, my God. . . .

“First Thing in the Morning”  words and music by Brian Casey, © 1994-1996 Encounter Music.

First Thing in the Morning *incipit* — approximately 1/8 of the entire song

MWM: special songs

[This is an installment in the Monday Worship Music series.  Find other, related posts through this link.]

A couple nights ago, we sang a few special songs with a group of friends:

• Jesus, Wonderful Thou Art (in which we worshipped the eternal Son)
• Into My Heart (in which we invited Him within)
• Be Still, My Soul (in which we expressed our trust)
• It May Be at Morn (in which we longed for the parousia)
• Lord, Speak To Me (in which we prayed for the Lord Jesus to fill us until we overflow, so that we tell his love)

And I ask you:  aren’t these all special songs?  In a real sense, every song in a Christian gathering should be special music.  Why sing a song unless it is special?

Many churches have developed a lingo that separates the solo song from the rest of the musical worship material.  Bulletins may list “Special Music” during or just after the offering.   “Who’s singing the special today?” is heard by many involved officially in musical leadership/offering.  If one isn’t careful, she could begin to think that “special music” should be more attended to than congregational music.

The “special music” lingo does indicate a good thing — congregationally oriented music as the norm.  Even as musical literacy in churches declines rapidly, it is good for churches small and large to continue to “major” in the large-group mode of worship.  It is engaging, fulfilling, and God-intended.

And wherever professional musicians call the shots, it would be good for a greater number of believers to show how energized they can be in lifting up voices from the pews (or theater seats, or whatever), as we did again yesterday morning:

This the pow’r of the cross
Christ became sin for us
Took the blame bore the wrath
We stand forgiven at the cross

W&M by Keith Getty and Stuart Townend
© 2005 ThankYou Music

Long live the singing of Christians.  Whenever two or three are gathered. . . .

MWM: Father and Friend

[This is an installment in the Monday Worship Music series.  Find other, related posts through this link.]

Yesterday, I re-pondered this hymn (and actually sang it while driving with my family — any of the rest of you do such odd things at times?).  The words are among the best, I think, and have stayed in my memory for years now.  If you don’t know the tune, maybe you would allow yourself to spend time with them, reading them aloud to yourself or even sharing them with someone else….

Father and Friend, Thy light, Thy love
Beaming through all Thy works we see.
Thy glory gilds the heavens above
And all the earth is full of Thee.

Thy voice we hear, Thy presence feel
While Thou, too pure for mortal sight,
Enwrapt in clouds invisible,
Reignest the Lord of life and light.

Thy children shall not faint nor fear,
Sustained by this delightful thought:
Since Thou, their God, art everywhere,
They cannot be where thou art not.

John Bow­ring, 1825

MWM: anyway

“Anyway.”

“Praising God anyway” is a believer’s theme that resists obsolescence.  Nevermind the ubiquity of Osteenist suggestions that God supposedly just wants me to be happy and successful, or of Robertsonesque calls to take back the U.S.A. for Christendom, the theme of praising anyway, despite life’s events, is compelling.

Spontaneously, last night, our living room was the scene as 7 committed believers sang together before beginning a study of 1 Thessalonians.

1. Fernando Ortega’s “I Will Praise Him Still” was actually bypassed last night — in part, because it was just too obviously a fit for various circumstances in our lives.  I don’t think many of us wanted to dwell too much in thoughts such as “the Lord our God is strong to save from the arms of death, from the deepest grave.”
2. The very next song suggested was Beth and Matt Redman’s “Blessed Be Your Name,” which is perpetually on CCLI’s favorites list (#4 on the list most recently tabulated).  The following excerpted words ring clear and true, not to mention calling us to faithfulness and worship “anyway”:

When I’m found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be Your name

. . .

When the darkness closes in
Lord still I will say,
“Blessed be the name of the Lord” …

. . .

On the road marked with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

. . .

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name

“Blessed be Your name.”  Has there ever been a more biblically based, Job-like thing to say to God in the throes of disappointment,  uncertainty, and anxiety?

3. We also sang another Redman song — “10,000 Reasons,” which is also up there on the CCLI list these days.

Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me
Let me be singing when the evening comes

I’ve recently learned of a development in the life of someone I know that could have far-reaching, negative effects.  During hard times, we stand together in the resolve to “praise Him still.”

Some news tends to remind me of other gut-punches from posses of the past.  There was a little one in the Heartland, and an envious, downright dishonest one in the mid-Atlantic.  One in Arkansas that might have initially had reasonably good intent but that ran roughly over a missionary family’s life years ago.  Another one in NH has in some ways coursed through an entire, extended family for years.  Long after the fact, I learned of another posse in Texas that involved a shotgun meeting with top-level administrators.  Some of these occurrences prove reminiscent, in hindsight, of posses from biblical times.

The Psalms,collectively Israel’s and the early church’s song book, are full of “anyway” resolve and exhortation.  Something within the in-tune human soul is drawn to the faith-filled response that soulfully sings, “Knowing that this life is temporal, I will worship You anyway, my eternal Lord.”

We humans are unable consistently to manifest this kind of faith, in our ocean of “anyways,” but it is a consuming, familiar call, and one whose echoes are heard through the millennia.

[This is an installment in the Monday Worship Music series.  Find other, related posts through this link.]

MWM: both promise and promise-keeper

Michael Card’s Christmas album The Promise stands tall above so many others, in that it is artfully conceived as a whole.  It incorporates at least one discernible bow that ties the whole package together.

The title track, “The Promise,” sets the stage with orchestration that gives way to a finger-picked acoustic guitar intro.  Straight from Isaiah 9, the initial lyric line observes,“The Lord God said when time was full, He would shine His light in the darkness.”  This prophecy bespeaks “promise.”  The most provocative line in the song is this later observation:

The Promise showed their wildest dreams had simply not been wild enough.

Don’t you love that?  Coming from that previous line, the Chorus can now be more expressive:

The Promise was love
And the Promise was life.
The Promise meant light to the world.
Living proof that Yahweh saves
For the name of the Promise was Jesus.

Now let’s move for a few moments, if you will, to Paul’s letter to the Galatians.  Among the compelling word-themes in this seminal letter are faith (of course), law, righteousness, and … wait for it … promise.  Jesus is quite specifically the fulfillment of promise.  I think it’s significant that the word epangellion (promise) is used only in the middle two chapters of Galatians, helping to form the center of Paul’s persuasive argument.  In fact, as scholar Greg Fay has said, Gal. 3:26-39 may be the conclusion to which the overall argument is headed, and the center of 3:1-4:10.  (On this point, note the placement of the word huios (son) in 3:7, 3:26, and 4:6-7, not to mention promise in 3:27 4:28.)   In the concentric text layout seen below, from 3:26-29, the A sections link identity as sons of God and sons of Abraham and the ideas of faith and promise.  This latter idea is borne out more fully as one becomes more familiar with Galatians.

A Sons of God, faith in Christ Jesus

B Immersed, put on Christ

C  Neither Jew, Greek, etc.
C’ One in Christ Jesus

B’ Of Christ

A’ Sons of Abraham, heirs of promise

Being sons of Abraham, for the Jew, meant being an heir.  In Galatians, Paul argues that being a true son of Abraham would be from the line of the free woman (not named, incidentally, but clearly painted in contrast to Hagar, who is named).  The free woman, Sarah, was the woman of promise; and faith, like that of Abraham, for whom faith was credited as righteousness, now leads to Christ Jesus.  Jesus becomes the personified Promise–both in Galatians and in eternal reality.

Back to Michael Card now.  Near the end of his album, in deeply simple, deft phrasing, Card uses these lines in a more hymnic, choral song:

Thou the Promise and keeper of the promise –
Our Salvation and our only Savior.
Our Redemption, our Redeemer, 
Thou art ours and we are Thine.

So be it.

Michael Card has for probably 30 years been a biblically focused, dedicated, scandal-free, prolifically inventive songwriter.  His sincere vocals are unique, and I’m at home with them, but his voice isn’t what I’m drawn to — it’s his thorough ability to distill biblical narrative and biblical teaching into songs.  Although I’ve been a Michael Card fan for about 20 years — starting with “Know You in the Now” and “Maranatha” and “Could It Be?” instead of the earlier “El Shaddai” and “I Have Decided” — I am neither groupie nor paid advertiser.  I merely think this kind of high-quality work merits ongoing attentiveness.

[This is an installment in the Monday Worship Music series.  Find other, related posts through this link.]

MWM: from cosmic theology to a consciousness of theophany

Friday, I sang a song that was new to me.  This doesn’t happen often, but when it does, and the song is worthwhile, my spirit sits bolt upright.  This was a “Christmas song,” I suppose — a true carol — and I’m not talking about Frosty or the decking of halls, which are not the subjects of bona fide carols.  I’m not much for observing days and seasons as a matter of law, but I’m very much interested in good theology that leads to authentic worship.  When those things are present, and it happens to be “the season” for the subtopic, I figure I’m in the middle of a reasonable convergence.

New expressions, when carried on wings of appropriate, and not-too-difficult music, can enliven the spirit.  The last time this happened to me was three months ago; even this once-in-90-days frequency is greater than average.  At any rate, in the Friday gathering, the words of this hymn helped me to worship, so I’ll share them here, with a little commentary interspersed.

Thou Didst Leave Thy Throne

Words (1864) by Emily Elliott; Music by Timothy Matthews (public domain)

Thou didst leave Thy throne and Thy kingly crown,
When Thou camest to earth for me;
But in Bethlehem’s home was there found no room
For Thy holy nativity.

As you ponder that, ignore the commercialism and habits suggested these days by the word “nativity.”  Take it simply, literally — along with a literal “holy” — and the validity of the facts of Jesus’ birth can become worthy inspiration.

Heaven’s arches rang when the angels sang,
Proclaiming Thy royal degree;
But of lowly birth didst Thou come to earth,
And in great humility.

Again, acknowledging a couple of seasonally over-seasoned phrasings (“angels sang,” “lowly birth”), we can overcome that dullness, spiritually affirming such deep put truths as the joy of heaven, and the extent of His kingly status juxtaposed with His meek humility.

Thou camest, O Lord, with the living Word,
That should set Thy people free;
But with mocking scorn and with crown of thorn,
They bore Thee to Calvary.

Thank you, O poet, for not leaving Jesus in the manger when you speak of ransom and atonement.  These things occurred with the cross.

When the heav’ns shall ring, and her choirs shall sing,
At Thy coming to victory,
Let Thy voice call me home, saying “Yet there is room,
There is room at My side for thee.”

[Refrains]

O come to my heart, Lord Jesus
There is room in my heart for Thee.

My heart shall rejoice, Lord Jesus,
When Thou comest and callest for me.

The overarching imagery in this worship song (yes, it is a worship song, although ’twill ne’er show up in anyone’s contemporary worship set list!) is that of the Bethlehem inn — the lack of space there and the question of “space” in the individual heart for the Lord.  And so we move from cosmic theology to a consciousness of a sort of “theophany” for the individual believer.

Jesus was not really “Lord at His birth”; to suggest that He was manifests not only an ignorance of the word “lord,” but also a pandering to popular, piddling, perhaps over-poetized theologies.  I do generally like the song “Silent Night” and can sometimes be enthused by it, but lyrical hyperbole does not make for the best theology on every point.  It is not the child who is our savior; it is the crucified, risen Son of God — Who for a time had a body, and Who at one time was a human baby.

The refrains of the song repetitively remind us of the connection between ancient history and present relationship.  It is eminently worshipful to speak to the Lord in humble recognition of the Incarnation, and to express a desire for Him to dwell in my heart.

———————–

[This is an installment in the Monday Worship Music series.  Find other, related posts through this link.]

(M)W(M): springboard phrases

This is no longer Monday or, even Tuesday, but this is an installment in the Monday Worship Music series.  Find other, related posts through this link.

Ponder/consider/think on/ruminate over/dwell in/trust in/be inspired by one of these phrases with me:

child of promise

because we believe

selected and adopted

by Your Spirit

not under the curse of sin

promise of the Spirit

inestimable blessing

live by faith

clothed with Christ

Why not be biblically based in some of our worship?

The above phrases come ek (out of, by, from) Galatians and are not given here because they relate directly to any existing worship music — thus the weird parens around the Ms in the heading for this post.  While a song may arise out of these words, worship is of course not all about the music, so perhaps you and I could worship God through one or more of those phrases in our hearts.

MWM: loving the opportunity

Following a singularly unusual Sunday in which there was no worship in my heart or experience (owing to travel and sickness), I retreat to a book for inspiration to pass along:

Father in heaven, teach us to love to assemble with our fellow  Christians;
And when we assemble, may we not lose ourselves in the crowd,
But may we lose ourselves in Thee and help others to do so.
Help us, too, O Lord, to feed our souls at Thy spiritual table
More often than we feed our bodies with the daily bread which Thou dost provide.
And O Thou God of power and of passionate concern for all mankind,
Give us fellowship with Thy concerned servants,
And the peace and victory made possible when we join with them in adoration of Thee.

- Andy T. Ritchie, Jr. (my grandfather), Thou Shalt Worship the Lord Thy God (1969), p. 42

MWM: condescension

As time marches on, some words in Christian songs become lost in supposed irrelevance, and other words are simply edited out, as the human race “progresses,” engulfed in the sea of fearful political correctness.  For instance, we no longer call ourselves “worms,” as Isaac Watts did in “Alas! and Did My Savior Bleed,” because, well, that’s just bad for the psyché.

In all my years, I’ve known of only three men, including myself, who’ve led “Come, Christians, Join To Sing,” which includes the word “condescend.”  This word strikes the modern ear as rather jarring, when applied to someone’s relationship to me.  I mean, if someone is said to condescend to be with me or to speak with me, it puts me in an undesirable position of humble circumstance.

Yeah, exactly.

condescend, v.i., from L. com, together and descendere, descend

1.  to be gracious about doing a thing considered beneath one’s dignity

2.  to deal with others patronizingly

The primary above definition of the word is a good reason that the words stand tall in my memory of yesterday morning’s worship time with fellow Christians.  The secondary definition, although representing a more common understanding these days, has not a single thing in common with the Christ or the Father.

Now, here are the words of the second stanza of the poem by Christian Henry Bateman:

He is our Guide and Friend.

To us He’ll condescend.

His love shall never end.

Alleluia, amen!

It is quite clearly a condescension (primary definition) that led God to empty Himself of part of Himself, causing Jesus to be born.  That condescension, together with the resulting, apparent love shown, constitutes one reason for worship.

Other compelling phrases from my yesterday of group worship include these:

a song of praise that flows from those You have redeemed

keep silence before Him

You alone I long to worship

I surrender all

it’s my joy to honor You in all I do

this I know with all my heart:  His wounds have paid my ransom

under the shadow of Thy throne still may we dwell secure

by faith we see the hand of God

we will stand as children of the promise

Question:  what words moved you in worship yesterday (or other recent times)?

* * *

[By the way, the "MWM" initials in the title of this post stand for "Monday Worship Music.”  The series to which this one is the sequel was called “Monday Music,” and archives may be accessed here.]

MWM: a moderate success

[The "MWM" initials stand for "Monday Worship Music.”  The series to which this one is the sequel was called “Monday Music,” and archives may be accessed here.]

* * *

Blessed with a good worship literature diet, I sang this scores of times during my growing-up years:

Lord of all, to Thee we raise 
This, our sacrifice of praise.

And I recall a clear sense of being enthused spiritually, emotionally, and musically by the leaders, including my own father, who would energize that first musical and lyrical line of the refrain, denying the congregation a certain thoughtless, lazy comma-in-fact.  No, when my dad led, the result was a more properly flowing, connected congregational expression, sans breath after the word “raise”:

Lord of all, to Thee we raise This,
Our sacrifice of praise.

Those with another hymnal sang,

Lord of all, to Thee we raise
This our hymn of grateful praise.

(Note the removal, here, of the strange, yet biblically and theologically significant, idea of sacrifice.)

The words are from Folliot S. Pierpoint’s hymn text “For the Beauty of the Earth.”  Other key thoughts include offering praise to God

• “for the beauty of each hour”
• “for the joy of human love — brother, sister, parent, child”
• “for the church that evermore lifteth holy hands above”

All those lines flow easily out of my memory … but today, no thought is more compelling and convicting than the notion of sacrifice in praise.  When I was young, back in the Philadelphia tri-state area, even though I would have been even more immature in my consideration of what “this, our sacrifice of praise” might be, at least I was energized as I emphatically sang “to Thee we raise ==> THIS, our sacrifice of praise.”  Yet, at best, that was a mere beginning — a beginning I’m weakly continuing 30-odd years later.

Sacrifice is related -- surely, if not entirely – to worship because of Jewish covenant, thought, and practice.  The pages of the Torah often speak of the sacrifice of animals; this exceedingly odd, gruesome activity was neither odd nor gruesome in the days of Cain and Abel, Abraham, Esau & Jacob, Moses, and the rest.  Sacrifice was not strange to the Hebrews of old.

I suspect that most of us are far too distant, spiritually speaking, from the idea of sacrifice in worship.  Like many “types” and symbols, the animal sacrifices of Genesis, Leviticus, etc., find their fulfillment in the Messiah, and specifically in the denouement:  the Son’s offering of Himself once for all.  His bleeding — quite literal and gruesome — forever relegated to the past the need for animal sacrifice.

Further, there follows an important connection between Jesus’ self-sacrifice and our own.  But what is this current-era sacrifice to look like?  How do I live out the idea of presenting myself as a living sacrifice?  Romans 12:1-2 comes after 11 chapters’ worth of rational case-making and should be read, first, in the context of that entire letter/epistle, but there is surely an application to be made in my own context, and in yours.  (Note the passive voice there?  Yeah, I did, too.  It just came out.  Before I realized it, I was typing “to be made” instead of “I must apply that to myself.”  The passive voice requires less of me.  Hmm.)

How do I apply “living sacrifice”  Weakly (not at all weekly) and poorly.  But how should I apply it?  One small way, I would meekly propose, is to praise when I don’t feel like praising.  Last night, with thanks to God for His moving through the hearts and voices of others, I did just a little of that less-than-motivated, yet real, worshipping and praising.

Through Him then, let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that give thanks to His name.  Heb. 13:15

* * *

I gave this blogpost a heading/slug/title that’s probably more strange than the topic of animal sacrifice or heart sacrifice.  I don’t suppose “moderate” and “sacrifice” belong in the same arena.  In reality, I don’t often consider myself successful in the area of worship and praise.  But in the scheme of my failings and foibles and … well, sin … a few of last night’s experiences were moderately “successful” as sacrificial enterprises of the pneuma (spirit) and sarx (body–in this case, specifically the voice).

MWM: His wounds have paid

[The "MWM" initials stand for "Monday Worship Music.”  The series to which this one is the sequel was called “Monday Music,” and archives may be accessed here.]

Some things are foundational, and others are fluffy.  Some things are essential, and others are mere elaborations.

Sunday evening, we sang, “But this I know with all my heart:  his wounds have paid my ransom.”  This line is the last in the song “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us,” penned by Stuart Townend.  We sang it (twice) and meditated on it some.  While there were many other good lyric lines in our evening, this is the poignant poetry that stood out to me.

I don’t emphasize it here because it is found in a pretty song.

And not because of its author, either.

And not because it’s good poetry, in its genre.

And not even because it manifests the balance of relationship:  our response to God’s action.

I emphasize it here because it articulates a foundational Christian truth.  Long may it be that Christians express this kind of thing when they are together, and when they are apart.

. . .

More than eight years ago, I introduced it to a church in Kansas, and a friend there couldn’t get through it without tears in his eyes.  I remember that response to this day (obviously), and felt joy this summer in renewing that connection.   Also recently, I had opportunity to sing this song with a church for which this song was new.

Some songs are special, touching more than a segment of the Christian world in a specific time period.  Some songs seem to be somewhat universal in their appeal, and they tend to last longer than a fortnight.  Let me start a list of such songs:

• How Deep the Father’s Love for us
• Great Is Thy Faithfulness
• In Christ Alone
• I Love You, Lord
• How Great Thou Art

What other songs do you find to be fairly universal in appeal and worthwhile in terms of content?

Is your life a channel?

Although my own life might be fairly characterized, alternately, as a TV drama with very little suspense, as a boring reality show, or as a sitcom,  none of these characterizations matter here.  This post is not about TV.

The impetus for this post is the proliferating horde — in my unusual, Bubble-protected circle — that seem to be attracted to using this e-mail sign-off:

Blessings, 

John

This “blessings” thing has bothered me ever since I saw it for the first time about 5 years ago (here in what they call “the Bubble”).

I’ve tried to put the bother out of my mind, thinking I’m being too literal (again) in wondering whether those who use this phrasing are trying subconsciously to appear more “Christian” than others.  Might folks be presumptuous or at least glib or thoughtless in using this sign-off?

I don’t know anything about the origins of the sign-off.  I don’t recall seeing it before coming to my present situation, but that could simply amount to lack of recall.

What does it mean to write “Blessings” to someone?  And why haven’t I heard anyone say it out loud?  Sometimes I do hear (and have even said, once in a great while) “God bless you” or “the Lord bless you.”  Compared to those phrases, “Blessings” seems truncated at best, and possibly trivialized.  I don’t think I’ve ever heard it uttered orally.

There is a valid sense in which I imagine the more thoughtful ones who use “Blessings” to be using it.  Could they be consciously praying a specific blessing from God on the recipient of the e-mail as they sign off?  Perhaps they are even more intentional than that, even:  they could be thinking this:  ”I pray that my message to this person has been a blessing incarnate — that I have been in some way a channel for the blessing of God toward this person, and even more, that this little blessing I hope to have been may abound more and more.”  Could the mere “Blessings” have an implied ellipsis ( . . . ) that indicates a consciousness of the Lord’s capability for ongoing blessing as the future moments transpire?

Over-analysis?  Yeah, maybe.  (I can apologize for being overzealous and potentially annoying, but not for analyzing and critiquing.)

On the positive side … an old “gospel song” (which is not in any way, shape or form a “hymn”) asks,

Is your life a channel of blessing?
Is the love of God flowing through you?
Are you telling the lost of the Savior?
Are you ready His service to do?

Is your life a channel of blessing?
Are you burdened for those that are lost?
Have you urged upon those who are straying,
The Savior Who died on the cross?

Is your life a channel of blessing?
Is it a daily telling for Him?
Have you spoken the Word of salvation
To those who are dying in sin?

We cannot be channels of blessing
If our lives are not free from known sin;
We will barriers be and a hindrance
To those we are trying to win.

Finally, the refrain invites prayer:

Make me a channel of blessing today,
Make me a channel of blessing, I pray;
My life possessing, my service blessing,
Make me a channel of blessing today.

Inasmuch as You work through these human vessels, God, yes, make me a vehicle for blessing others. 

MWM: I learned a new song

[The "MWM" initials stand for "Monday Worship Music.”  The series to which this one is the sequel was called “Monday Music,” and archives may be accessed here.]

Learning good, new songs is always a pleasure for me.  While I’m probably not in any sort of majority on this, a couple of my core traits are a) easily lulled into disinterest and mind wandering and b) musical. The former trait leads to a penchant for new things in my diets; combining “easily lulled” with “musical” means that a new song can readily become an oh-so-welcome vehicle for worshipping my God.

At this point in my life, it’s not all that often that a new song strikes me.  These days, few of the “new” songs are actually unique enough to merit much attention, in my “book.”  This lack of originality doesn’t make the songs bad; it does, however, often render them dull for me.  Anyway, when we re-visited a group of vibrantly singing believers two Sundays ago, and an unfamiliar hymn — yes, a true hymn! – was requested by a 22-year-old, I took notice and was inspired on at least two fronts.

The tune used for this hymn, “St. Petersburg,” is generally derivative and is specifically an adaptation of the same composer’s tune “Wells,” which is associated with “Till He Come.”  The music is not particularly striking, but it does make for a fine fit with the words, which are arrestingly worshipful. 

O Power of love, all else transcending, in Jesus present evermore,
I worship thee, in homage bending, thy name to honor and adore.
Yea, let my soul, in deep devotion, bathe in love’s mighty boundless ocean.

Thou art my rest; no earthly treasure can satisfy my yearning heart,
and naught can give to me the pleasure I find in thee, my chosen part.
Thy love, so tender, so possessing, is joy to me, and every blessing.

To thee my heart and life be given; thou art in truth my highest good.
For me thy sacred side was riven, for me was shed thy precious blood.
O thou who art the world’s salvation, be thine my love and adoration.

I was so engaged while singing (an unfortunately rare state for me in this phase of life) that I didn’t even notice the author and composer’s names at the bottom.  Both names are familiar to me.  A quick check on cyberhymnal.org shows no reference to this hymn, so I don’t feel bad that I didn’t know it earlier.  I did find two other sites that have catalogued it.

The author of the text also wrote the more familiar words “God Himself is With Us” — another worthy song which is a centering “call to worship” if there ever was one.

MWM: hymns — definitions, and one good example

[The MWM initials stand for "Monday Worship and Music.”  Once upon a 'blog, for a year, I endeavored to post every Monday on the lyrics of hymns and other worthwhile Christian songs.  The series, then called “Monday Music,” was almost always positive and/or inspirational, and archives may be accessed here.]

Having recently re-subscribed to Worship Leader magazine after a lengthy lapse, and having been paying new attention to a persistent, inner passion for strong worship content in church music, I’m reviving this series, sort of, in a new iteration — now with the moniker MWM.

Before resuscitating the series by sharing thoughts on a standard hymn from my younger days, I’ll begin with a brief, textual definition of “hymn”:

• a song of praise to God (Merriam-Webster)
• a song or ode in praise or honor of God, a deity, a nation, etc. (Dictionary.com)
• something resembling [the above]

Musically, on the contrary, a hymn might be well understood as 1) being somewhat less  harmonically static than a typical “gospel song,” conceived with four harmonic parts, 2) being formally simple, and 3) lacking a chorus, a/k/a “refrain.”

Therefore, in the Christian milieu, songs that are not addressed to God and songs that do include a chorus (e.g., “At the Cross” and “Blessed Assurance”) are not hymns, strictly speaking.  The “harmonic rhythm” of these songs is also relatively slow, i.e., the chords don’t change too often, making them harmonically more static.  Regardless of common parlance that labels anything a “hymn” that seems “well-worn” to a given person, I’ll be continuing to use the word “hymn” a good deal more specifically.  I’m a stickler for word meanings.  Now, on to a meaty morsel or two!

~ ~ ~

A true hymn textually speaking, “Jesus, Thy Name I Love” is a standard to me—in that it appeared in the hymnal I grew up with and was sung several times a year in my congregation as well as in others I would visit from time to time.

I was saddened that this song apparently fell so far out of favor as not to be included in the Paperless Hymnal until Volume 10.  This is no indictment of the prolific, responsive James Tackett, who does dedicated work for the sake of congregational singing; rather, it is an slam on us — on our cheapening taste and weakening literacy — since congregations had apparently not earlier requested that this worthwhile song stay available.

The words of this hymn reach to Jesus adoringly, lovingly — with ardent expressions such as these:

“Jesus, thy name I love, all other names above”

“O Thou art all to me; Nothing to please I see, Nothing apart from Thee”

“. . . then Thine own face I’ll see; then I shall like Thee be”

The hymnologists out there are doubtless aware of cyberhymnal.org, a site that has cataloged more than 10,000 public-domain Christian songs and made the words (and music, in many cases) available.  I would point out that the poetic meter of this song makes it a little unwieldy, tune-wise.  Neither tune referenced on the cyberhymnal.org website is the one I learned as a child, but the second one, “Braun,” seems a better match for the text than either the one I know or the one named “Stobel.”

No matter the tune, the likelihood of singing this song anytime soon in congregational worship is slim.  While this fact does sadden me, since the song diet to which many of us are accustomed is far less nutritive, there is no death knell for the worship easily stimulated by this song:  I can use the song privately!  (And so I did.)

Stillness, aloneness, and energy

Having abandoned my “Monday Music” series in which I shared the words of–and thoughts about the words of–worthy Christian songs and hymns, I’d like to offer something along those lines on today, a Friday. First, a preface.

I’m alone for a couple of days.  Karly and Jedd are with friends Krista and Joy, and I’m “dogsitting.”

The jumbo bag of Dunkin Donuts decaf gave me instructions.  It didn’t quit with the measuring amounts or the caveat “adjust to taste.”  It added something along the lines of “And now your day can officially begin.”  Somehow the idea that coffee has the power to begin my day is offensive, so I thought about it a little more.

I’m alone.  What do I need to get me going?  Anything at all?  When I’m still, in sleep or in thought or in mesmerized nothingness, what enervates and energizes me?

Sometimes it’s food or drink.  Sometimes it’s the sense of responsibility.  Sometimes it’s musical fulfillment that inspires or awaits (or both).  Sometimes it’s a spiritual hope or longing.  Coffee, though?  Nah.  It was decaf, anyway.

College students have for years been pulling all-nighters and using caffeine to feed the supposed habit of needing to stay up long hours to write, read, and study.  I’m not sure this habit represents an actual need in all that many cases.  Rather, the fact that students often don’t go to bed until after midnight probably stems from their lack of household/parental constraints more than from their academic pressures.  Yet they do take in caffeine in large doses at times, needing to be energized.

Maybe it’s not that kind of energy we need.  Maybe it’s stillness we need more. Meditate on the words below, and consider the One with Whom you are alone and still, in both the current and the final analysis.  There are more stanzas, and the third one here is new to me, but I’ll leave it with these, hoping you will take these in.

If you are alone, or if you feel alone, it is a good thing.  If you are still, revel in that stillness and know that God is alive.

Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh,
When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee;
Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight,
Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee.

Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows,
The solemn hush of nature newly born;
Alone with Thee in breathless adoration,
In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.

Still, still with Thee, as to each newborn morning,
A fresh and solemn splendor still is given,
So does this blessèd consciousness, awaking,
Breathe each day nearness unto Thee and Heaven.

Words, but not much music

The first Monday of the year seems like a good time to discontinue the “Monday Music” series I’ve been posting for several months.  Lots of words flying around in my world right now.  Jedd is so very verbal, and we are delighted with this part (as well as all the others) of his developing personhood.  Some recent favorite words: muffin, Grandmommie, Granddaddy, all the cousins’ names, doggie, window, step.  All these words are welcome, and they give us nice, joy-filled moments.

Songs have words.  We sang songs yesterday at the church where we are visiting.  All of these songs, to one degree or another, had words worthy of repetition by Christians.  Nothing amiss here, really, although the re was very little real leadership.  (I’m not sure it’s possible to lead in this place, given the sheer numbers of people in the room, and the momentous weight of legacy.  Nearly every song ended up 30 beats per minute slower than the tempo at which it had begun.)  There was some good worship planning in evidence, and the words intoned in song were God-oriented and God-honoring throughout both the morning and evening assemblies.

The morning sermon–filled, of course, with words–was sort of Christianese nothingness to my ears.  Not that it wasn’t sincerely conceived and spoken, but it didn’t do anything for me, either.  No problems with particular words, really, but the thrust of the message was anything but unique, and, especially given the audience, it really didn’t seem that effectual.  I did take in some words near the conclusion of the sermon–something to this effect:  where we end the year is important, and we ought to realize that some sitting in this room right now won’t be with us on December 31, 2011.  Now, where I thought he was going was that, given the average age of the church members, which I would guess is something well over 55, many would likely die before the end of the year.  What he was really predicting is the falling away of some people during the year, and I suppose that’s likely, as well.

Then came the evening sermon, and it was a source of some agitation, some gawking (spiritually wide eyes, thinking, “can he really be saying that?!), and some embarrassment.  Words, of course, can be helps, or they can be hurts.  (Aside:  when I criticize things, I generally name them clearly.  Something in me refuses to name this church or this speaker, however.  I wish not to tear down or to be unbrotherly; I wish to criticize the words and not the heart of the speaker, of which I have some historical knowledge, and which I’ve been conditioned to appreciate.)

The sermon began with an unseemly, ostensibly self-serving request for people in the audience to recommend the speaker for special speaking engagements elsewhere.  Anyone who didn’t know something about this history of this man’s “gospel meetings” could easily have thought, “What a haughty, ludicrous way to begin an instructional period.”  And in fact, I do have first-hand knowledge that at least one visitor was highly offended by this sermon.  It was filled with old-style CofC preachin’, but that wasn’t the only problem.  Rampant opinions were spouted, interspersed with valuable insights into the text of Romans, and the undiscriminating listener would have been hard-pressed to distinguish between textually sound insights and politically charged opinions–opinions that seemed, on the surface, to be based in scripture, but that were marked by extrapolations and trumped up in cockiness, as though they were prophecies of some oracle of God.

Arrogance was apparent periodically, and I was caused to think about mastery. This speaker is known as a master of the text of Romans, and there is a certain freedom that goes along with longtime experience in a discipline or subject area.  Mastery is not to be sneezed at, and I wanted last night to benefit from this man’s mastery of the words of Romans, but I was largely disappointed.  My experience last month at the Midwest Clinic (an international band and orchestra conference) involved “sitting at the feet” of several masters, and I am struck, in hindsight, with the lack of apparent arrogance on the part of those masters in musical disciplines.  Those who presented were frequently heard giving credit to their forbears, or acknowledging their own mistakes in the past.  I daresay that some of them were masters of their fields to a greater degree than last night’s sermonizer.

When we speak, let us speak true things lovingly.  Let this be true of the words in our songs, the words in our sermons, the words in our casual comments among friends … the words of all our lives.  Let us remember that we are not ultimately masters of anything, and that even though we may have distinct wisdoms and valuable experiences to share, we are all fallible.  It does us good to remember our place in the scheme of things:  under God.

MM: Tabernacle #1

[The "MM" initials stand for "Monday Music"; I've been endeavoring to post on Mondays on the lyrics of hymns and other worthwhile Christian songs.]

Soon I’ll be sharing some insights on the content of song books (a/k/a “hymnals”), but before I get to that, on this Monday, for “Monday Music” day, I’m pleased to share some lyric lines from yesterday’s special worship time with the Tabernacle Church in New Jersey.  What a privilege it was to be with them and to lead them.  These words will be from memory; I’ve lived with these songs enough not to have to refer to them while writing.

Father, we love You.  We worship and adore You—glorify Thy name in all the earth!

Thou hast devised salvation’s plan, for Thou hast died for all.  Blessed be the name of the Lord!

Jesus, Lamb of God, worthy is Your name.

I love You, Lord, and I lift my voice to worship You.  O, my soul, rejoice.  Take joy, my King, in what You hear.  May it be a sweet, sweet sound in Your ear.

I love You, Lord, and my song I sing to worship You.  I bring ev’rything.  Take joy, my King, and receive my love as I show my passion for You, God above.

Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee, God of glory, Lord of love.  Hearts unfold like flow’rs before Thee, op’ning to the Sun of Love.

Thou art giving and forgiving, ever blessing, ever blest.  Wellspring of the joy of of living, ocean-depth of happy rest.  Thou our Father; Christ our Brother.  All who live in love are Thine.

I am mine no more.

I will praise my dear Redeemer.  His triumphant pow’r I’ll tell–how the victory He giveth over sin and death and hell.

More love to Thee, O Christ!  More love to Thee!  Hear Thou the pray’r I make on bended knee.  This still my pray’r shall be—more love, O Christ, to Thee.  More love to Thee.  More love to Thee.

Of the 230 words above from the songs we sang yesterday, easily 200 of them are direct worship and adoration to Deity.  This is a good thing.  This is an inspiring thing.  This is an ought thing for Christians.

Tomorrow … more reflections on my time with Tabernacle, and ramifications.

MM: the invitation

On Mondays, I’ve been writing a “Monday Music” series (thus the “MM”) that deals with Christian songs.  Yesterday, I was privileged to lead saints in worship.  The invitation was offered, and I’m not primarily speaking of God’s invitation in Jesus — and spoken by the preacher — to have potential converts do what it takes to get on God’s side.  The invitation to which I refer was different.  I’ll share a few brief phrases from a few songs we sang and/or thought about together:

Come in today.  Come in to stay.
Come into my heart, Lord Jesus.

Come.  Now is the time to worship.
Come.  Now is the time to give your heart.

O come, let us adore Him–Christ the Lord!

Invitations.  We may invite Jesus into our hearts (and He will not go where He is not invited, despite His ability to do so).  We may invite others around us to worship.  Both of these are good kinds of invitations, and I’m thinking they’re at least as significant as the type of invitation that jockeys for a visible response to a sermon.

Oh, and I’d encourage the use of “O Come All Ye Faithful” at seasons other than the current one, too!