|
|
ASH WEDNESDAY |
February 6, 2008 |
MY LIFE FLOWS ON
IN ENDLESS SONG
My life flows on
in endless song; above earth's lamentation,
I catch the
sweet, though far-off hymn that hails a new creation.
Refrain
No storm can
shake my inmost calm
while to that
Rock I'm clinging.
Since Christ
is Lord of heaven and earth,
how can I keep
from singing?
Through all
the tumult and the strife, I hear that music ringing.
It finds an
echo in my soul. How can I keep from singing? (Refrain)
What though my
joys and comforts die? The Lord my Savior liveth.
What though
the darkness gather round? Songs in the night he giveth. (Refrain)
The peace of
Christ makes fresh my heart, a fountain ever springing!
All things are
mine since I am his! How can I keep from singing? (Refrain)
Text: Robert
Lowry, 1826-1899
I can see myself
in heaven, standing there in front of God, singing a
breathtakingly beautiful aria with the celestial choir.
There is at least
one problem with this scenario. I sing like a frog. My future as a
soloist is as bleak in heaven as it has been here on earth.
I was one of
those kids told to lip-synch during the Sunday school Christmas
program. My beloved grandfather used to call me Little Missy
One-Note. Now that I’m grown up, Papa Tom sings bass and Mama
Dallas can’t quite hit high tenor.
I really
shouldn’t sing in public, at least not loud enough for anyone to
hear. I shouldn’t. But on any given Sunday you’ll find me in
church, belting out the tunes with gusto.
The songs of the
church are the songs of my heart. They are the birthing songs, the
baptizing songs, the marrying songs, the burying songs, the songs
of growing up and growing old. They are the songs my memory sings
when I wake in the middle of the night.
Lent, the season
of introspection, has officially begun. I feel the ashes on my
forehead. Lent is a time for sorrow and repentance, a time to
remember the ultimate sacrifice God made for his creation. Maybe I
should just sit quietly in thoughtful silence, hearing again the
story of Jesus on the road to crucifixion. But I know how the
story ends. The Lord my Savior liveth.
My toes are
tapping and my heart is jumping. Since Christ is Lord of heaven
and earth, how can I keep from singing?
Bless you, Lord,
for the grace we have received through the life, death and
resurrection of Jesus. Teach us to sing, Lord, so that we will be
brave enough to sing for you.
Dallas Cronk
|
The First Thursday of
Lent |
February 7, 2008 |
BORNING CRY
Editor's note: Lyrics for the hymn “I Was There to Hear Your Borning Cry,” (text and music by John Ylvisaker) are not available for electronic distribution. Text and music can be found in Evangelical Lutheran Worship #732 and With One Voice #770.
This is
considered by many to be a baptismal hymn, but I chose it to be
sung at my mother’s memorial service.
A few days after
the funeral, one of my neighbors commented on the song’s wonderful
lyrics. She said, “Your mother could have sung those words to
you.” True enough. My mother was there for the first part of my
life journey and witnessed many of the milestones: my birth, my
baptism, my wild teenage years, and the years when my children
were born and were young. But God was there for all of those
wonderful, and not so wonderful, years as well.
It is so
reassuring to know that even though my mother is no longer here to
witness my milestones and guide me, my heavenly Father is still
here. He is with me always, giving me strength and comfort and joy
—
and the promise of a life after this one.
Heavenly Father,
thank you for being there for me in the past and for continuing to
be there in the future. I thank you for all of the blessings you
have showered upon me, including parents who brought me to you
when I was a child.
Susayn Brandes
|
The First Friday of
Lent |
February 8, 2008 |
IN THE GARDEN
I come to the
garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses,
and the voice I
hear, falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses.
Refrain
And he walks with
me, and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own.
And the joy we
share as we tarry there none other has ever known.
He speaks and the
sound of his voice is so sweet the birds hush their singing,
and the melody
that he gave to me within my heart is ringing. (Refrain)
I’d stay in the
garden with him, though the night around me be falling,
but he bids me
go; through the voice of woe, his voice to me is calling.
(Refrain)
Text: Charles Webb
Used by permission.
© 1989 United Methodist Publishing House
You will not find
my favorite hymn in a Lutheran hymnal. It is a favorite for two
reasons. It is the song my mother sang, always slightly off-key,
as she rocked my younger siblings and probably me, too. And the
message, whether sung by my mother or the congregation, is always
the same: “I am his own.”
There is a saying
that good parents raise their children to know right from wrong,
but forgive them and continue to love and support them if they do
wrong. When I was a child, this hymn reminded me that mine were
good parents. Now, it reminds me that our heavenly Father is also
a good parent. He tells us how he wants us to act, but he forgives
us when we fail, and he always supports us.
Is the garden an
ordinary one? The Garden of Eden? Or a heavenly garden? It doesn’t
matter. The message is that God loves us, no matter what, and that
Christ died to keep it that way.
Lord, continue to
remind us, as we see the marvels of this worldly garden, that we
are your own.
Jolene Dougherty
|
The First Saturday of
Lent |
February 9, 2008 |
EARTH AND ALL
STARS!
Earth and all
stars! Loud rushing planets! Sing to the Lord a new song!
Hail, wind,
and rain! Loud blowing snowstorm! Sing to the Lord a new song!
Refrain
God has done
marvelous things. I too sing praises with a new song!
Trumpet and
pipes! Loud clashing cymbals! Sing to the Lord a new song!
Harp, lute,
and lyre! Loud humming cellos! Sing to the Lord a new song!
(Refrain)
Engines and
steel! Loud pounding hammers! Sing to the Lord a new song!
Limestone and
beams! Loud building workers! Sing to the Lord a new song!
(Refrain)
Classrooms and
labs! Loud boiling test tubes! Sing to the Lord a new song!
Athlete and
band! Loud cheering people! Sing to the Lord a new song! (Refrain)
Knowledge and
truth! Loud sounding wisdom! Sing to the Lord a new song!
Daughter and
son! Loud praying members! Sing to the Lord a new song! (Refrain)
Text: Herbert F.
Brokering, b. 1926
Used by
permission. © 1968 Augsburg Publishing House, admin. Augsburg
Fortress.
I love to sing
and make music, and I enjoy this hymn because of all the things
that are singing. I feel that I am in wonderful company when
everything praises God or is urged to do so, depending on how you
interpret the “sing to the Lord a new song!” — as a statement or
as an admonition to sing. Throughout the verses, we hear the
natural universe, weather, musical instruments, industry and
construction, schools, sports enthusiasts, knowledge and truth.
Have you ever
noticed that people are mentioned directly only a few times? The
loud building workers; the athletes, band, loud cheering fans; the
daughter and son (of God); the loud praying members.
Why loud planets,
loud snowstorms, loud wisdom, cymbals, hammers, test tubes and
members? Think about the last time you were ecstatically happy,
thrilled. Could you whisper your enthusiasm? Of course not. So
when we are truly aware of God’s presence everywhere and in
everything, we make a joyful noise. Our praise is new as we see
things anew and express our personal praise. We are aware of God’s
presence in our lives. We appreciate the marvelous things God has
done, and we can rest assured that he will be with us always, even
to the end of the age. Sing a new song!
Dear omnipresent
and loving God, we thank you for everything large and small, near
and far in your wonderful creation. Help us praise you loudly,
both in song and in our lives.
Dr. Eunice Doman
Myers
|
The First Sunday of
Lent |
February 10, 2008 |
IMMORTAL,
INVISIBLE, GOD ONLY WISE
Immortal,
invisible, God only wise,
in light inaccessible hid from our eyes,
most blessed,
most glorious, the Ancient of Days,
almighty, victorious, thy
great name we praise!
Unresting,
unhasting, and silent as light,
nor wanting, nor wasting, thou rulest in might;
thy justice
like mountains high soaring above
thy clouds which are fountains
of goodness and love.
To all, life
thou givest, to both great and small;
in all life thou livest, the
true life of all;
we blossom and
flourish like leaves on the tree,
and wither and perish, but
naught changeth thee.
Thou reignest
in glory; thou dwellest in light;
thine angels adore thee, all
veiling their sight;
all laud we
would render; oh, help us to see
'tis only the splendor of light hideth thee!
Text: Walter
Chalmers Smith, 1824-1908, alt.
This hymn brought
comfort at my mother’s funeral. Each of my two daughters chose it
for her wedding. It was relevant on all occasions. What I love
most about it is that it relays the omnipotence and omnipresence
of God. God is always with us. He never changes.
The verse, “We
blossom and flourish like leaves on the tree, and wither and
perish, but naught changeth thee,” is reminiscent of
Ecclesiastes 3:1-2: “For everything there is a season, and a time
for every purpose under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to
die. …” God gave us life. He gave us our very essence. Our time
on earth is so short compared with eternity.
God will
eternally be our God, and we will be with him for eternity. This
is the promise he gave us when he sent his Son to die for our
sins. We do not have to earn this gift. All we have to do is to
believe and be baptized.
Thank you, God,
for sending your son to die for our sins. Thank you for the
comfort you have given us when those we love die —
the comfort of knowing they have gone home to be with you. Thank
you for your promise of eternal life.
Judy McDiffett
|
The First Monday of
Lent |
February 11, 2008 |
LOST IN THE NIGHT
Lost in the night
do the people yet languish, longing for morning the darkness to
vanquish,
plaintively
heaving a sigh full of anguish. Will not day come soon? Will not
day come soon?
Must we be vainly
awaiting the morrow? Shall those who have light no light let us
borrow,
giving no heed to
our burden of sorrow? Will you help us soon? Will you help us
soon?
Sorrowing
wand’rers, in darkness yet dwelling, dawned has the day of a
radiance excelling,
death’s dreaded
darkness forever dispelling. Christ is coming soon! Christ is
coming soon!
Light o’er the
land of the needy is beaming; rivers of life through its deserts
are streaming,
bringing all
peoples a Savior redeeming. Come and save us soon! Come and save
us soon!
Text: Finnish
song; tr. Olav Lee, 1859-1943, alt.
© 1932 Augsburg
Publishing House, admin. Augsburg Fortress
I first heard and
sang this hymn in the seminary choir in Chicago in 1961. A tenor
from Latvia sang the first verse in a beautiful, haunting voice
that I can hear in my head to this day. He was part of a church
full of Latvians who had fled their country during the second
world war. For a time they were lost in the night and languished,
longing for morning their darkness to vanquish. They were
plaintively sighing with hearts full of anguish. The Lutheran
World Federation helped them find "morning" and a new day in the
United States. They represent all the lost people, refugees from
war, all over the world.
There are people
with a burden of sorrow everywhere. And we who have light must not
only lend it to them, but give it freely for them to keep. We
won't lose any light that we share. The most moving experiences of
my life have been when people with burdens of inner pain from
mental, emotional and physical abuse received help from people who
knew how to bring the light of Christ into the darkness of fear
and anger. Help came soon. Christ came and helped through loving
people.
The death of loved ones brings the deepest shadows. My first
funeral was for a 19-year-old girl who was killed in an automobile
accident. Her father, mother and younger sister were sorrowing
wanderers for a long period of grieving. The power of Christ's
light coming to them gave them the dawning of a new day of
radiance.
Dear Lord, planet Earth is a land of the needy. Let the light
of Christ come to us as awareness of our oneness with you and all
other people. Help us to keep on singing for the rivers of life to
stream through the deserts, bringing all people the Savior’s
redeeming.
The
Rev. Paul Reimers, retired |
The First Tuesday of
Lent |
February 12, 2008 |
HOLY GOD, HOLY
AND GLORIOUS
Holy God, holy
and powerful, power without peer,
you bend to us in
weakness; emptied you draw near, and we behold your power.
Holy God, holy
and beautiful, beauty unsurpassed,
you are despised,
rejected; scorned, you hold us fast, and we behold your beauty.
Holy God, holy
and only wise, wisdom of great price,
you choose the
way of folly: God the crucified, and we behold your wisdom.
Holy God, holy
and living one, life that never ends,
you show your
love by dying, dying for your friends, and we behold you living.
Text: Susan R.
Briehl, b. 1952
Used by
permission. © 2000 GIA Publications. All rights reserved.
I learned this
song just a couple of years ago, and it immediately became a
favorite. I enjoy singing it, but it is the words that get me
every time.
God comes to us
in totally unexpected ways — in fact, the exact opposite of what
we expect or what we see. We know that God is glorious, powerful,
beautiful, only wise and very much alive. But we learn these
truths by seeing the exact opposite in the life of Christ.
Not so long ago,
we were celebrating the birth of Christ and experiencing the awe
and wonder of God coming among us. Christ, the Word made flesh,
stooped to earth and became human. And in that act of humbling
himself, Christ showed us his true glory. As we journey toward the
cross during these days of Lent, we hear about the life of Jesus.
He reaches out to
those in greatest need, allowing himself to be vulnerable. And in
that weakness, we see his incredible power. We see and experience
Christ’s beauty in spite of, and possibly in light of, the ways in
which he was rejected by those closest to him. As we hear again
about Christ’s final days, we may wonder about the decisions that
led to Christ’s crucifixion and see them as a way of folly. Yet,
we know the whole story, and we see the infinite wisdom in
Christ’s death and resurrection — the act that saves us from our
sins.
That leads to the
final verse, and the best news of all. Christ shows his love for
us by dying, but we behold him living. During Lent, we reflect on
our own weakness, the ways in which we have despised and rejected
God, and our many ways of folly. We recognize our need for
forgiveness — our need for a Savior. In that need, we cling to the
One who is holy, glorious, powerful, beautiful and only wise — and
who lives among us now and forever.
Holy God, you are
more than we can ever expect or understand. May we always cling to
you and continue to be amazed by the incredible ways you come to
us and surprise us each and every day. In your holy name we pray.
The Rev. Kristin Neitzel, Associate Pastor
|
The Second Wednesday of
Lent |
February 13, 2008 |
CENTER OF MY LIFE
Keep me safe, O
God, I take refuge in you. I say to the Lord, “You are my God.
My happiness lies
in you alone; my happiness lies in you alone.”
Refrain
O, Lord, you are
the center of my life; I will always praise you.
I will always
keep you in my sight.
I will bless the
Lord who gives me counsel, who even at night directs my heart.
I keep the Lord
ever in my sight; since he is at my right hand, I shall stand
firm. (Refrain)
And so my heart
rejoices, my soul is glad; even in safety shall my body rest.
For you will not
leave my soul among the dead, nor let your beloved know decay.
(Refrain)
You will show me
the path of life, the fullness of joy in your presence,
at your right
hand, at your right hand happiness forever. (Refrain)
Text: Paul Inwood,
Ladies of the Grail
Used by
permission © 1963 GIA, The Grail
The words of this
hymn, taken from Psalm 16, denote the centrality of God that we as
Christians must have in our lives. I recently started taking yoga
classes. In the midst of some of our contortions, the instructor
says “...resist away from your core.” The “core,” on this level,
refers to the heart. As the life-giving organ of the body, it
takes and receives the life-giving blood of our lives.
So it is with
God, for he is both the centrifugal and centripetal force of our
lives. We revolve around and evolve from his divine love. St.
Augustine, the famous theologian, said in one of his sermons,
“Listen to me, you who are poor: What is lacking if you have God?
Listen to me, you who are rich: What do you possess if you do not
have God?”
Trying to
navigate this material world without God is like riding on a bus
full of people with all the shades pulled down. The bus passes
through a breath-taking landscape of verdant hills, lush valleys
and crystal streams. The people inside, however, merely squabble
over the best seats and never see any of it. May we be open to
God’s love at all times with eyes that see and hearts that
love!
Loving Father,
let us always remember that your son reveals his presence in every
detail of our lives. May we cling to this presence always as the
center of our very being.
Joanne T. Ehrlich
|
The Second Thursday of
Lent |
February 14, 2008 |
MY HOPE IS BUILT
ON NOTHING LESS
My hope is built
on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
no merit of my
own I claim, but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.
Refrain
On Christ, the
solid rock, I stand; all other ground is sinking sand.
When darkness
veils his lovely face, I rest on his unchanging grace;
in ev’ry high and
stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil. (Refrain)
His oath, his
covenant, his blood sustain me in the raging flood;
when all supports
are washed away, he then is all my hope and stay. (Refrain)
When he shall
come with trumpet sound, oh, may I then in him be found,
clothed in his
righteousness alone, redeemed to stand before the throne!
(Refrain)
Text: Edward Mote, 1797-1874,
alt.
The hymn above
and a contemporary Christian song together show a paradox that is
present in our lives. Artist Todd Agnew has a song entitled “If
You Wanted Me.” Part of it is about Peter’s response to Jesus
walking out on water and inviting Peter to come to him: “If you
wanted me to walk on water, why did you make the solid ground seem
so right?”
Jesus urges us to
have faith in him. Oftentimes, we need answers to our questions
before we can make the plunge. These two songs present conflicting
images. One shows Christ as the rock, solid and firm. The other
portrays an enduring test of faith, telling us that we are to walk
into places that we know are unstable – or sinking sand.
So which is it?
Matthew 14 tells us the story of Jesus walking on water. Peter
asks Jesus, “If it is you, command me to come to you on the
water.” Jesus answers, “Come.”
Come. This
invitation clears the paradox up for us, and for Peter.
“My Hope Is Built
on Nothing Less” is referred to as the Navy hymn. One verse reads,
“In every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.”
In the storms of our lives, the places where we find ourselves
unsure, our faith in Christ is our anchor. We can stand on the
rock of Christ, the rock of salvation. Christ invites us to come
into the places in our lives that we are unsure of – and come
closer to him. This is the solid ground, the firm anchor that
holds us closely. As our relationship with Christ deepens, the
raging sea turns into a rock.
Father, we thank
you for the solid ground you give us. Invite us to walk with you
in unfamiliar situations, trusting in your grace and mercy.
Provide for us when we feel we are sinking and give us courage for
uneasy times in our lives. In Jesus’ name we pray.
Chris Deines
|
The Second Friday of
Lent |
February 15, 2008 |
DAY BY DAY
Day by day, your
mercies, Lord, attend me, bringing comfort to my anxious soul.
Day by day, the
blessings, Lord, you send me draw me nearer to my heav’nly goal.
Love divine,
beyond all mortal measure, brings to naught the burdens of my
quest;
Savior, lead me
to the home I treasure, where at last I’ll find eternal rest.
Day by day, I
know you will provide me strength to serve and wisdom to obey;
I will seek your
loving will to guide me o’er the paths I struggle day by day.
I will fear no
evil of the morrow, I will trust in your enduring grace.
Savior, help me
bear life’s pain and sorrow till in glory I behold your face.
Oh, what joy to
know that you are near me when my burdens grow too great to bear;
oh, what joy to
know that you will hear me when I come, O Lord, to you in prayer.
Day by day, no
matter what betide me, you will hold me ever in your hand.
Savior, with your
presence here to guide me, I will reach at last the promised land.
Text: Carolina
Sandell Berg, 1832-1903; tr. Robert Leaf, b. 1936
Used by
permission. Tr. © 1992 Augsburg Fortress
God is present in
our daily lives. His loving will guides us along the path we
travel in his kingdom and opens doors of service that add
significant meaning to our lives and the lives of others.
As faithful
Christians, we seek to do God’s will and to live our lives day by
day in such a manner that we strengthen our relationship with God
and with other people. We serve God by participating in the
worship and social life of the church and in the outreach programs
that serve our community.
Yet our daily
lives are not lived entirely in our church community. Do we
practice our Christian faith in the world community as we relate
to our family, our co-workers, our friends and neighbors?
“Faith is a
living, daring confidence in God’s grace, so sure and certain that
the believer would stake his life on it a thousand times. This
knowledge of and confidence in God’s grace makes men glad and bold
and happy in dealing with God and with all creatures. And this is
the work which the Holy Spirit performs in faith. Because of it,
without compulsion, a person is ready and glad to do good to
everyone, to serve everyone, to suffer everything, out of love and
praise to God who has shown him this grace.” (Luther’s Works, Vol.
35)
With a living
faith like this, how can we keep from singing? The song of life is
the song of faith, joy and love. Let us sing it with the sure hope
of salvation through Christ Jesus our Lord.
Heavenly Father,
bless me with the strength to serve, the wisdom to obey and the
joy of a song in my heart.
Marjorie Bender
|
The Second Saturday of
Lent |
February 16, 2008 |
AS THE DEER
As the deer
panteth for the water, so my soul longs after you.
You alone are my heart’s desire, and I long to worship you.
Refrain
You alone are my strength, my shield; to you alone may my
spirit yield.
You alone are my heart’s desire, and I long to worship you.
I want you more than gold or silver. Only you can satisfy.
You alone are the real joy giver and the apple of my eye.
(Refrain)
You're my friend and you're my brother, even though you are a
king.
I love you more than any other, so much more than anything.
(Refrain)
Text: Michael
Joncas
Used by
permission © 1996 GIA Publications, Inc.
My husband and I
did not know one another as children. Yet our childhoods mirrored
one another in many ways. We both attended camp nearly every
summer. We spent that one week away from our homes and, most of
all, our parents. We felt a little more freedom than usual. We
grew as individuals.
During those
weeks away from home, we made new friends. We looked forward to
seeing these friends each summer, and we just knew that these
friendships would last a lifetime.
At camp, we also
grew in our faith in God. While our parents were far away, God was
close to our hearts. We learned God would always be there for us.
Our personal relationships with God grew stronger and deeper.
During the Lenten
season, we are reminded of our childhoods with Easter egg hunts,
candy and new church clothes. But we can also reflect on the times
in our childhood when we learned what it truly means to have God
in our hearts. Although we are older now, we continue to build on
the foundation of faith that was laid years ago. With each day, we
“long to worship you.”
Dear Lord, we
pray that during this Lenten season we will grow and build upon
our personal relationship with you.
Dulcinea
Rakestraw
|
The Second Sunday of
Lent |
February 17, 2008 |
MAKE A JOYFUL
NOISE UNTO THE LORD
Make a joyful
noise unto the Lord,
All ye, all ye
lands!
Serve the
Lord, the Lord with gladness!
Come into His
presence with singing!
Hallelujah!
Glory hallelujah!
Hallelujah!
Glory hallelujah!
Hallelujah!
Glory hallelujah!
Text: Psalm
100:1-2, King James Version
I remember when I
went to church camp for the first time. My brothers had gone
camping multiple times with the Boy Scouts, including weeklong
stays at summer camp. This was my first time to be away from my
parents for a whole week. Of course, my two older brothers were at
the same camp, but there were no parents.
We did the normal
camp things: slept in bunks in cabins; hiked everywhere in the
hot, humid Louisiana summer; made crafts; swam; played group
games; and went to chapel twice a day. Chapel was a place, but it
was not limited to a building. I can remember having services
outside in the evening.
Chapel was
memorable for its music, which hit an emotional chord that ever
since has been related to my “happy” feelings. I can still picture
a long-haired, ratty-jean-wearing counselor (it was the early
‘70s) strumming his acoustic guitar.
This is the song
I remember. I knew I would always have the words since I had just
received my first Bible. Psalm 100. Even I could remember the
location — basically in the center of the book. This was my first
connection with being able to find something personally meaningful
in the Bible.
I remembered this
song as my husband and I planned our wedding ceremony. I wanted to
share the pleasure it gave me with everyone who came to share the
joy of our union. My childhood pastor recited the verses of Psalm
100 in place of singing since we didn’t have music. The words
alone still evoked the same happy feelings for me.
Dear Lord, please
know that I serve you with gladness. You have given me everything
that makes me happy, including these beautiful words and my
family. Let me share your never-ending goodness with the rest of
the world.
Karen Vlamis
|
The Second Monday of
Lent |
February 18, 2008 |
A MIGHTY FORTRESS
IS OUR GOD
A mighty fortress
is our God, a sword and shield victorious;
he breaks the
cruel oppressor’s rod and wins salvation glorious.
The old satanic
foe has sworn to work us woe!
With craft and
dreadful might he arms himself to fight.
On earth he has
no equal.
No strength of
ours can match his might! We would be lost, rejected.
But now a
champion comes to fight, whom God himself elected.
You ask who this
may be? The Lord of hosts is he!
Christ Jesus,
mighty Lord, God’s only Son, adored.
He holds the
field victorious.
God’s Word
forever shall abide, no thanks to foes, who fear it;
for God himself
fights by our side with weapons of the Spirit.
Were they to take
our house, goods, honor, child, or spouse,
though life be
wrenched away, they cannot win the day.
The kingdom’s
ours forever!
Text: Martin
Luther, 1483-1546; tr. Lutheran Book of Worship, 1978
Used by
permission. © 1978 Lutheran Book of Worship, admin.
Augsburg Fortress
Martin Luther —
along with being a reformer, a theologian, a fiery preacher and a
Bible translator — was also an exceptional musician. He wrote, “I
am strongly persuaded that after theology, there is no art that
can be placed on a level with music, for besides theology, music
is the only art capable of affording peace and joy to the heart.”
I love music,
too. So Luther’s hymn, “A Mighty Fortress,” is not only a
treasured Lutheran hymn; it’s also beautiful music. Lutherans sing
it on Reformation Sunday as a reminder of the trials Martin Luther
faced as he challenged the religious hierarchy of his day.
“A Mighty
Fortress,” based on Psalm 46, reflects Luther’s awareness of his
own – and our own – intense struggle with Satan. In difficulty
and danger, God is with us.
Luther’s words
give hope to the hopeless, strength to the weak, truth to the
disheartened and belief to the unbeliever. There is nothing that
can keep God from being our salvation. He is our strength, our
warrior, our helper. He is with us forever.
Our God, our
mighty fortress, keep us this day from harm, from evil. Continue
to strengthen us in our beliefs and in our struggles. We love you
for loving us.
|
The Second Tuesday of
Lent |
February 19, 2008 |
PRAISE GOD, FROM
WHOM ALL BLESSINGS FLOW
Praise God, from
whom all blessings flow;
praise him, all
creatures here below;
praise him above,
ye heav’nly host;
praise Father,
Son, and Holy Ghost.
Text: Thomas Ken,
1637-1711
My mother’s side
of the family is crazy —
not exactly certifiably crazy, but the religions are
several times plural and the lifestyles are diverse.
My grandparents
are divorced. My grandma’s family was German Lutheran, and my
grandpa’s father was a Methodist minister. My great-aunt is a
practicing Unitarian from the Deep South.
My mom’s sister
married a Jewish man, and they live in California. When my two
cousins were little, they asked “Are we Christmas tree or
menorah?” They’ve been menorah ever since, although one is married
to a Hindu man from India.
My uncle used to
live on a communal farm, and he follows the Muslim teachings of a
Sufi mystic from Sri Lanka. But if you ask him, he’ll tell you,
“Me and Jesus are tight, man.”
My other uncle
has kids with a woman who was raised Jewish. They have chosen not
to marry. They’re undecided between Christmas tree and menorah,
but he might be more of an agnostic.
The prospect of
saying grace before a family meal has this Kansas farmer’s
daughter running for the hills! We’ve had reunions, confirmations,
bat mitzvahs and weddings, and we’ve discovered a solution: We all
sing the doxology.
Although I love
the simple words and melody, it’s become a running joke. Potential
awkwardness dissipates when we launch into our rousing (and
slightly off-key) rendition of “Praise God, from Whom All
Blessings Flow.” We avoid tiptoeing through the minefield of
religion and theology with these four lines. This verse brings joy
and amusement at a time when our differences could be most
heightened. Anyway, the sooner we can get to the conversation of
the actual meal, the sooner we can all talk politics!
Dear God, help me
look for similarities before pointing out differences. Teach me
that normal is not another word for “my way.” Allow me to
appreciate opportunities of diversity.
Jennifer Worrel
|
The Third Wednesday of
Lent |
February 20, 2008 |
WHEN PEACE LIKE A
RIVER
Refrain
It is well (it
is well)
with my soul,
(with my soul,)
it is well, it
is well with my soul.
Though Satan
should buffet, though trials should come, let this blest assurance
control, that Christ has regarded my helpless estate, and has shed
his own blood for my soul. (Refrain)
He lives--oh,
the bliss of this glorious thought; my sin, not in part, but the
whole,
is nailed to
his cross and I bear it no more. Praise the Lord, praise the Lord,
O my soul! (Refrain)
Lord, hasten
the day when our faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back
as a scroll,
the trumpet
shall sound and the Lord shall descend; even so it is well with my
soul. (Refrain)
Text: Horatio G.
Spafford, 1828-1888
Music has been a
huge part of my life, from my first memories of singing “Christmas
Bells” in Sunday school, standing in a circle, holding hands,
swaying back and forth. I think I was about three.
One of my
favorite hymns over the years is this one. I am so fond of it that
I have chosen it to be sung at my memorial service. I’m a firm
believer in being prepared. Even before I took the time to examine
the verses, I was drawn to the refrain: “It is well with my
soul.”
What does it mean
to have your soul at peace?
The verses speak
to the trials and sorrows of life that will surely come to us.
Life will be hard. Yet we are encouraged by the knowledge that no
matter what happens, we will be saved because Christ has shed his
blood for us. He fully recognizes our weaknesses and knows we
cannot save ourselves.
But we can be
prepared. We need only to recognize that all is well with our
souls since Christ has given himself.
Heavenly Father,
continue to remind us that our souls can be at peace because you
are our risen Savior. Keep us secure in the knowledge of this, our
most blessed gift.
Suzanne Koch
|
The Third Thursday of
Lent |
February 21, 2008 |
MORNING HAS
BROKEN
Morning has
broken like the first morning; blackbird has spoken like the first
bird.
Praise for the
singing! Praise for the morning!
Praise for
them, springing fresh from the Word!
Sweet the
rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven, like the first dewfall on the
first grass.
Praise for the
sweetness of the wet garden,
sprung in
completeness where God's feet pass.
Mine is the
sunlight! Mine is the morning, born of the one light Eden saw
play!
Praise with
elation, praise ev'ry morning,
God's
recreation of the new day!
Text: Eleanor
Farjeon, 1881-1965
Text © Miss E.
Farjeon Will Trust, by permission of David Higham Associates.
Sometimes, it’s
all a matter of how we see things.
For instance,
when I was growing up as a Catholic boy, Martin Luther’s tune for
“A Mighty Fortress is Our God” was not the great anthem of faith I
now know it to be. Rather, it was the title music for the
children’s series “Davey and Goliath.” And “We Plow the Fields and
Scatter” was not a hymn but a beautiful, lilting song in the
musical “Godspell.”
Then there’s the
hymn I knew as a delicate, piano-backed piece by musician Cat
Stevens. I first heard “Morning Has Broken” as a slightly
different pop song back in the early 1970s, when I was in middle
school. The tune is catchy, but the lyrics are lovely. Imagine my
surprise later to hear it sung in church!
I needn’t have
been surprised, really. The lyrics celebrate the world around us,
the wonders that we see every day. The song of the blackbird, the
dew on the grass, the sweet rainfall – all things we may take for
granted. But the hymn sees these things for what they are –
wonders to appreciate. “Praise with elation, praise every
morning, God’s recreation of the new day!”
Many years have
passed since I first heard this lyric. The world has changed, of
course. Heck, even Cat Stevens changed – he became Yusaf Islam
after converting to Islam. Still, each day in this troubling
world, God shows us the splendors of the world he made. No matter
our names or faiths, we can certainly still agree on that.
Dear Lord, thank
you for the wonders you show us each day, in this world you made.
Help us to open our eyes to these and to know we need to
appreciate them more.
Ken Hobart |
The Third Friday of
Lent |
February 22, 2008 |
O GOD, OUR HELP
IN AGES PAST
O God, our help
in ages past, our hope for years to come,
our shelter from
the stormy blast, and our eternal home.
Under the shadow
of your throne your saints have dwelt secure;
sufficient is
your arm alone, and our defense is sure.
Before the hills
in order stood or earth received its frame,
from everlasting
you are God, to endless years the same.
A thousand ages
in your sight are like an evening gone,
short as the
watch that ends the night before the rising sun.
Time, like an
ever-rolling stream, soon bears us all away;
we fly forgotten,
as a dream dies at the op’ning day.
O God, our help
in ages past, our hope for years to come,
still be our
guard while troubles last and our eternal home.
Text: Isaac Watts,
1674-1748
Psalm 90 provides
the scriptural foundation for this hymn. It has always been one of
my favorites because it captures the infinite timelessness of God
compared with my temporary nature. Its text makes it a standard
hymn for All Saints Sunday.
The Lutheran Book
of Worship contains six of the original nine verses. My favorite
verse is the last one printed above.
This hymn has
been sung on a number of important occasions. It was the closing
hymn for the last service held on the Titanic. It has been
vocalized at the funerals of a number of our presidents
—
the last being the memorial service of President Gerald Ford.
Years ago when I was in the choir at Gustavus Adolphus College, we
would sing this hymn at the conclusion of a concert. It was
offered as a statement of faith and a prayer of thanksgiving.
This song was
sung at our wedding. I have requested that it be included in my
funeral service.
Father, I rest in
the knowledge that you are always there for me
—
past, present and future. I thank you for your love and guidance,
for you are “our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal
home.”
The Rev. Richard
Monson, Interim Pastor
|
The Third Saturday of
Lent |
February 23, 2008 |
JERUSALEM, MY
HAPPY HOME
Jerusalem, my
happy home, when shall I come to thee?
When shall my
sorrows have an end? Thy joys when shall I see?
O happy harbor
of the saints, O sweet and pleasant soil!
In thee no
sorrow may be found, no grief, no care, no toil.
Thy gardens
and thy gallant walks continually are green;
there grow such
sweet and pleasant flow'rs as nowhere else are seen.
There trees
forevermore bear fruit and evermore do spring;
there evermore
the angels sit and evermore do sing.
Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, God grant that I may see
thine endless
joy, and of the same partaker ever be!
Text: F.B.P., 16th
cent.
Back in seminary
days, when Paul had no car and no money, we walked to church and
other places. To use the time, we memorized some hymns. One of
the first ones I typed onto a recipe card was “Jerusalem, My Happy
Home.” We liked the tune and the words, and it was short. The
idea of a beautiful garden full of trees and flowers and
angels was very appealing in the middle of Chicago. We really had no
sorrows in our lives at that point, but that didn't make the
thought of heaven any less appealing!
When we moved to
northeast Wichita, it seemed as if we were surrounded by
cemeteries. People have been living and dying here for a long
time. But death seems distant in our everyday lives until someone
we love is touched by it. We treasure memories of friends like
Virginia Leikvold, who left her love of music as a gift for us, a
glimpse into the angels' songs in Jerusalem.
While we were in Tanzania last July, we saw little shops lining
the road, selling fruits and vegetables and fabrics. There also
were little carpenter shops, especially on the road that led past
the big
hospital. Some specialized in wooden caskets, displaying them on
the ground along the edge of the road. Many of the caskets were
small — painted white with blue or pink trim, maybe even with a
few bows. Each time we drove on the road, we were reminded that
big and small alike were dying every day. The Ashira pastor said
he had about 45 funerals a year, and most of them were not for old
people. My friend Kaanaeli said her village had funerals every
week, and all families were touched by the plague of AIDS. Young
mothers and fathers were dying. Their children were dying. This
would seem hopeless, except that we have been promised a happy
home in a beautiful kingdom, and the music of angels will welcome
us. What a glorious thought!
Father God, what
a comfort it is to know that death is not the end of life, but the
beginning of seeing the joys of eternal life.
Glennyce Reimers
|
The Third Sunday of
Lent |
February 24, 2008 |
JOYFUL, JOYFUL WE
ADORE THEE
Joyful, joyful we
adore thee, God of glory, Lord of love!
Hearts unfold
like flow’rs before thee, praising thee, their sun above.
Melt the clouds
of sin and sadness, drive the gloom of doubt away.
Giver of immortal
gladness, fill us with the light of day.
All thy works
with joy surround thee, earth and heav’n reflect thy rays,
stars and angels
sing around thee, center of unbroken praise.
Field and forest,
vale and mountain, flow’ry meadow, flashing sea,
chanting bird,
and flowing fountain call us to rejoice in thee.
Thou art giving
and forgiving, ever blessing, ever blest,
wellspring of the
joy of living, ocean-depth of happy rest!
Thou our Father,
Christ our brother, all who live in love are thine;
teach us how to
love each other. Lift us to the joy divine!
Text: Henry van
Dyke, 1852-1933
I love the melody
of this hymn. I could sit and listen to it over and over. But a
great hymn is the combination of beautiful music and inspiring
words. Together they make a stream of faith that we can jump in
and let flow over us. This assignment forced me to look closer at
the words. To my surprise, they really speak to me. They are about
many of the things I love. Each verse intertwines God and his
creation. The hymn relates the joy of God and the joy in God we
all feel. It tells how this love can bring us happiness and take
away our fear.
When I hear
Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy,” the words of this hymn flow through my
head. I realize I have always known and loved them. I feel comfort
in this song. We all find comfort in the hymns that have been with
us all our lives.
The song takes us
into God’s world. It lays out before us the many wonders God has
created and entrusted to us, from the heavens above to the
grandeur that surrounds us. The hymn touches on all of the reasons
I love the outdoors.
God has built an
awesome sight. The earth’s visual aspects are unchallenged. But
“Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee” reminds me of the beautiful music
to be heard in nature. It reminds me that we need to stop and
listen to the song God is singing. I often admire the beauty of
the blue jays, but when did I last listen to their song? I’m drawn
to the mountain waterfalls to take a picture, but I never try to
record it. I am missing half of God’s creation.
The verses also
remind us of God’s forgiveness and blessings. These blessings
transcend God’s creation, and we need to transcend our petty
differences to live together and care for that which has been
entrusted to us. We have forgotten how delicate the environment
truly is. The earth should be handled like fine china. If it is
abused, it will break and become useless.
Dear Lord, we
speak to you in voices raised in song. We pray that our hymns
glorify and exalt you. Teach us to also listen to the songs you
are singing to us. Let us find exaltation in your hymns. Only when
we come together, with harmony between our songs and your songs,
can we truly find the peace on earth you have provided us, not as
a substitute for heaven but as a small glimpse into its magnitude.
Bob Weaver
|
The Third Monday of
Lent |
February 25, 2008 |
NOW THANK WE ALL
OUR GOD
(Nun
danket alle Gott)
Now thank we
all our God with hearts and hands and voices,
who wondrous
things has done, in whom this world rejoices;
who, from our
mothers' arms, has blest us on our way
with countless
gifts of love, and still is ours today.
Oh, may this
bounteous God through all our life be near us,
with ever
joyful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us,
and keep us
all in grace, and guide us when perplexed,
and free us
from all harm in this world and the next.
All praise and
thanks to God the Father now be given,
the Son, and
Spirit blest, who reign in highest heaven,
the one
eternal God, whom earth and heav'n adore;
for thus it
was, is now, and shall be evermore.
Text: Martin
Rinkhart, 1586-1649; tr. Catherine Winkworth, 1827-1878
My first exposure
to this hymn of thanksgiving came when I read the account of a
family of German immigrants who arrived in the United States
shortly after the Civil War. The account was written in 1925 by a
woman who had made the journey as a 7-year- old girl. The crossing
was stormy and lasted seven weeks. When the ship reached America,
the girl’s mother read a scripture, and then they all sang “Nun
danket alle Gott.”
The hymn had been
written by Martin Rinkhart, a Lutheran pastor in Eilenburg,
Saxony, during the Thirty Years War in the 1600s. The town had
been under siege. Starvation and the plague were rampant. People
fought in the streets over a dead rat! Pastor Rinkhart buried more
than 4,000 people.
When peace
finally began to dawn on Germany, he wrote the words to this hymn,
expressing his gratitude to God. The Peace of Westphalia, a
collection of treaties, finally ended the war in 1648. Pastor
Rinkhart died in 1649, having served his parish for 31 years.
When we think of
the hardships that lay ahead of the immigrant family and the
problems that faced Pastor Rinkhart and his parish at the end of a
terrible war, we can only wonder that they could still thank God
for his blessings. How can we, who have been even more blessed,
fail to be even more grateful for the blessings he has showered on
us?
Heavenly Father,
as we sing this wonderful hymn of thanksgiving, help us to
appreciate all the blessings you have bestowed on us. We ask this
in the name of your son, Jesus Christ.
Leslie Riggle
|
The Third Tuesday of
Lent |
February 26, 2008 |
BLESSED ASSURANCE
Blessed
assurance, Jesus is mine!
Oh, what a
foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of
salvation, purchase of God,
born of his
Spirit, washed in his blood.
Refrain
This is my
story, this is my song,
praising my
Savior, all the day long:
this is my
story, this is my song,
praising my
Savior all the day long.
Perfect
submission, perfect delight,
visions of
rapture now burst on my sight;
angels
descending bring from above
echoes of
mercy, whispers of love. (Refrain)
Perfect
submission, all is at rest;
I in my Savior
am happy and blest,
watching and
waiting, looking above,
filled with
his goodness, lost in his love. (Refrain)
Text: Fanny J.
Crosby, 1820-1915
I have been a
Lutheran all my life and have come to rely on assurances:
-
Just as I am sure Jell-O salad will be served at our next
congregational dinner, I am assured
of God’s love for all of us.Just as I am sure Jell-O salad will be served at our next
congregational dinner, I am assured
of God’s love for all of us.
-
Just as I am sure
all verses of a Lutheran hymn will be
sung, I am assured
of God’s promise of forgiveness through Jesus’ death on the cross.
-
Just as I am sure doughnuts and coffee will be served
at Sunday fellowship hour,
I am assured
of eternal life in heaven if I believe in God.
These assurances
comfort me when my world is chaotic and confusing. These blessed
assurances help me focus on what God has planned for me, so I can
get back on track to deal with life. These assurances can be some
of the examples we use to spread the good news of God’s love to
those who haven’t heard his story yet. These blessed assurances
can remind us of the paradise that awaits us in heaven when one
day our life on earth is done.
Dear Lord, thank
you for the blessed assurance that you are always with us whenever
our world is turned upside down. I pray that you send us out this
Lenten season to share the story of Jesus’ death on the cross and
glorious resurrection!
Sheryl Johnson
|
The Fourth Wednesday of
Lent |
February 27, 2008 |
JUST AS I AM,
WITHOUT ONE PLEA
Just as I am,
without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me,
and that thou
bidd’st me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am, and
waiting not to rid my soul of one dark blot,
to thee, whose
blood can cleanse each spot, O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am,
though tossed about with many a conflict, many a doubt,
fightings and
fears within, without, O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Just as I am,
thou wilt receive, wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;
because thy
promise I believe, O Lamb of God, I come, I come,
Just as I am; thy
love unknown has broken ev’ry barrier down;
now to be thine,
yea, thine alone, O Lamb of God, I come, I come.
Text: Charlotte
Elliott, 1789-1871
Whenever I hear
this hymn, I envision my father standing at the bathroom sink
while shaving on Sunday mornings. Unlike the other days of the
week, his Sunday shave was accompanied by hymn singing. My dad
always arose early to complete his daily shave — necessary in a
house with four daughters and one bathroom — but on Sundays, his
shaving was loud and joyous. It became our Sunday alarm clock.
This hymn fits my
dad so perfectly. He is the most humble man I know. As the only
male in a family of six, he was happy to let the females rule the
roost. The lessons my dad taught me about life are so important to
me. Give unconditional love to your children. Be kind to others.
Judge not, that you be not judged. Do unto others as you would
have them do unto you. This is how my dad has always lived his
life, and I am so proud of him. Today, at 90, he still lives a
quiet, humble life, ever thankful, kind and loving.
So, just as my
dad used this hymn as a Sunday morning alarm clock, we can use it
as a wake-up call for our lives. Just as we seek to be accepted
“just as we are,” we can strive to be more accepting of others, to
follow Jesus’ example of loving kindness to all we meet.
After all, isn’t love and mercy the message of
Christianity?
Dear Father, in a
world that is often full of conflict and strife, help us to be
true to ourselves and to be more accepting of others, moving us
closer to a world of peace. “This is my commandment, that you love
one another as I have loved you.” (John 15:12)
Maureen
Hofrenning
|
The Fourth Thursday of
Lent |
February 28, 2008 |
ON EAGLE’S WINGS
You who dwell in
the shelter of the Lord, who abide in this shadow for life,
say to the Lord
“My refuge, my rock in whom I trust.”
Refrain
“And I will raise
you up on eagle’s wings, bear you on the breath of dawn,
make you to shine
like the sun, and hold you in the palm of my hand.”
Snares of the
fowler will never capture you, and famine will bring you no fear,
under God’s wings
your refuge with faithfulness your shield. (Refrain)
For to the angels
God’s given a command to guard you in all of your ways;
upon their hands
they will bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone.
(Refrain)
Text: Michael
Joncas, b. 1951
Used by
permission. © 1979 OCP Publications, 5536 NE Hassalo, Portland,
OR 97213 All rights reserved.
Last October, my
73-year-old father died of lung cancer. The cancer first appeared
in March. After he underwent extensive treatments, it was said to
be gone. It was not. Cancer was discovered again in late
September. He went downhill quickly and died surrounded by all of
his children.
His death felt
like a cruel betrayal —
he had suffered so much and appeared to make it, only to be
brought down again and taken from us.
So I sat in the
pew of my father’s church in Topeka for his funeral. It was great
that many people had come to pay tribute to him, but still… I had
already cried many tears, and I hoped I could make it through the
funeral without losing it. I was doing OK. Then, the service
closed with “On Eagle’s Wings.”
This hymn — with its lovely, simple melody and inspiring lyrics
— has always moved me. Now, it lifted me out of my sorrow and
brought me to the best hope of that hard day.
It assured me
that my father had been raised up, as on eagle’s wings, and was
now in the palm of God’s hand. So here, in a church not my own,
that hymn made me feel at home. I grieved that day
—
and I still do on occasion — but “On Eagle’s Wings” reminded me that my father’s
death was not the end of the story. It carries on.
Dear Lord, you
are with us in times wonderful and hard, always sheltering us with
your love, until that day that you take us in your hand. Thank you
for such wonderful love.
Ken Hobart
|
The Fourth Friday of
Lent |
February 29, 2008 |
WHAT A FRIEND WE
HAVE IN JESUS
What a friend we
have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege
to carry everything to God in prayer.
Oh, what peace we
often forfeit; oh, what needless pain we bear –
All because we do
not carry everything to God in prayer.
Have we trials
and temptations? Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never
be discouraged. Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a
friend so faithful, who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our
every weakness – take it to the Lord in prayer.
Are we weak and
heavy laden, cumbered with a load of care?
Precious savior
still our refuge – take it to the Lord in prayer.
Do your friends
despise, forsake you? Take it to the Lord in prayer.
In his arms he’ll
take and shield you; you will find a solace there.
Text: Joseph
Scriven, 1820-1886
My first
connection to this hymn dates to an early Sunday school class. My
teacher encouraged me to pray and ask God’s forgiveness for my
sins. I was cautious about opening up that whole can of worms. A
6-year-old with a kid sister can muster quite a list of sins.
I had tried a few
times to confess sins to my father, and I had been sent to my room
to ponder the error of my ways. I decided to clam up about sins.
Dad came up with
a new approach. He told me he could look into my eyes and tell
whether I was being truthful. He tried those X-ray eyes on me, and
darned if he couldn’t make it work.
My Sunday school
teacher asked about my friends. Did I have special friends I could
sit down and talk with, friends I could trust? I told her about my
best friends, but Jesus wasn’t on the list. I loved Jesus, but I
had not thought of him as my friend. The teacher described a
picture of Jesus sitting at his father’s side while I was praying
… father and son, my friends in the heavenly kingdom.
We went through
all the verses of the hymn. Line by line, I began to understand. I
have a friend in Jesus, a friend who knows my every weakness and
loves me anyway. (That’s even better than my dad’s eye trick!) I
can share my sorrows with Jesus, my faithful friend; I can even
share my sins. With Jesus as my friend, I can take everything to
God in prayer.
Thank you, Lord,
for sharing your son, my friend Jesus, with us. And thank you for
inspiring all the little miracles that happen every week in Sunday
school classes around the world.
Tom Cronk
|
The Fourth Saturday of
Lent |
March 1, 2008 |
BE THOU MY VISION
Be thou my
vision, O Lord of my heart;
naught be all else to me, save that
thou art:
thou my best thought both by day and by night,
waking or
sleeping, thy presence my light.
Be thou my
wisdom, and thou my true word;
I ever with thee and thou with
me, Lord.
Thou my soul's shelter, and thou my high tow'r,
raise thou me heav'nward, O Pow'r of my pow'r.
Riches I heed
not, nor vain, empty praise,
thou mine inheritance, now and
always:
thou and thou only, the first in my heart,
great God of heaven,
my treasure thou art.
Light of my
soul, after victory won,
may I reach heaven's joys, O heaven's
Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
still be my vision, O
Ruler of all.
Text: Irish, 8th
cent.; vers. Eleanor H. Hull, 1860-1935, alt.; tr. Mary E.
Byrne, 1880-1931
When I listen to
this hymn, I feel I am listening to a prayer. The words are
attributed to Dallan Forgaill, an 8th Century Irish monk.
Verse 3 states, “Riches
I heed not, nor vain, empty praise, thou mine inheritance, now
and always: thou and thou only, the first in my heart, great God
of heaven, my treasure thou art.” These words are a map of
how we should live our lives, and where our focus should be: on
the treasure that awaits us in heaven.
I think of our
young people and their journey to find the meaning of life; it’s
a journey fraught with temptations. The temptations they face
are the same temptations humankind has faced for centuries. This
hymn, written more than 1,200 years ago, demonstrates that some
things were not all that different in Dallan Forgaill’s time.
“Riches I heed
not”
is a philosophy almost foreign in today’s world. We are bombarded
from every direction about the value of money and the freedom
money can give. Who among us does not want to be wealthy? But
true wealth does not come from money in the bank, or from stocks
and bonds. True wealth is found in our relationship with our
Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
It is my hope and
prayer we can all focus on the true meaning of life and
understand the true treasure of life, which to me is, “I ever
with thee and thou with me, Lord.”
“Be though my
wisdom, and thou my true word; I ever with thee and thou with
me, Lord. Thou my soul’s shelter, and thou my high tow’r, raise
thou me heav’nward, O Pow’r of my pow’r.”
Judy McDiffett
|
The Fourth Sunday of
Lent |
March 2, 2008 |
THIS IS MY
FATHER’S WORLD
This is my
Father’s world, and to my list’ning ears
all nature sings,
and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my
Father’s world; I rest me in the thought
of rocks and
trees, of skies and seas; his hand the wonders wrought.
This is my
Father’s world; the birds their carols raise;
the morning
light, the lily white, declare their maker’s praise.
This is my
Father’s world; he shines in all that’s fair.
In the rustling
grass I hear him pass; he speaks to me ev’rywhere.
This is my
Father’s world; oh, let me not forget
that, though the
wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
This is my
Father’s world; why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is king,
let the heavens ring; God reigns, let the earth be glad!
Text: Maltbie D.
Babcock, 1858-1901
These lyrics give
praise to the beauty of God’s creation. How truly blessed we are
to be stewards of his earthly kingdom.
Early every
morning our Alaskan Malamute, Pasha Bear, and I go for a walk. We
both look forward to our stroll. For Pasha Bear, it’s a time to do
the things doggies doo. For me, it’s a time to reconnect with God
and take in the beauty of his creation. Pasha Bear and I return
home each morning refreshed as we take on a new day.
This hymn also
speaks to me about whether we, as God’s people, are good stewards
of his creation. What about climate change and global warming?
Just take a look around.
Scientists
recently warned that carbon dioxide is building up in the
atmosphere 35 percent faster than previously reported. The Arctic
ice is melting, and glaciers are receding at an alarming rate.
Last summer, the southeastern part of the United States was
running out of water because of a record drought. In Kansas,
controversy exists about whether two coal-fired plants should be
built at the expense of further hurting our environment and at the
risk of causing greater public health and safety concerns.
Clearly, our environment is becoming more polluted as our natural
resources continue to dwindle.
God must be
disappointed. We have not been good stewards. The Lenten season is
a time for self-examination. May we, as God’s children, learn to
become more concerned about being good stewards of his beautiful
world.
Thank you, God,
for the beauty of your creation. We pray we can become a changed
people so that we can truly give praise to the hymn, “This Is My
Father’s World.”
Larry Ehrlich |
The Fourth Monday of
Lent |
March 3, 2008 |
I LOVE TO TELL
THE STORY
I love to tell
the story of unseen things above,
of Jesus and his
glory, of Jesus and his love.
I love to tell
the story, because I know it’s true;
it satisfies my
longings as nothing else would do.
Refrain
I love to tell
the story;
I’ll sing this
theme in glory
and tell the old,
old story
of Jesus and his
love.
I love to tell
the story: how pleasant to repeat
what seems, each
time I tell it, more wonderfully sweet!
I love to tell
the story, for some have never heard
the message of
salvation from God’s own holy word. (Refrain)
I love to tell
the story, for those who know it best
seem hungering
and thirsting to hear it like the rest.
And when, in
scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song,
I’ll sing the
old, old story that I have loved so long. (Refrain)
Text: Katherine
Hankey, 1834-1911
God so loved the
world that he blessed us with music. From the soft sounds of a
lullaby to the inspiration of the “Hallelujah Chorus,” the whole
world sings! Even the deaf sing with their hands.
Lord God, you’ve
blessed us with this wonderful thing called music. Thank you!
Thank you for talented people who write music, sing and play
instruments for our enjoyment. Bless their voices and their
efforts to praise you, bringing the good news in music to all who
love you and praise your holy name. I thank you, Lord, for
allowing me to tell the old, old story.
Twila Black
|
The Fourth Tuesday of
Lent |
March 4, 2008 |
JESU, JESU FILL
US WITH YOUR LOVE
Refrain
Kneels at the
feet of his friends, silently washes their feet,
master who acts
as a slave to them. (Refrain)
Neighbors are
wealthy and poor, varied in color and race,
neighbors are
near us and far away. (Refrain)
These are the
ones we will serve, these are the ones we will love;
all these are
neighbors to us and you. (Refrain)
Kneel at the feet
of our friends, silently washing their feet:
this is the way
we will live with you. (Refrain)
Text: Tom Colvin,
1925-2000, alt.
Used by permission
© 1969 Hope Publishing Company (ASCAP), Carol Stream, IL 60188.
All rights reserved..
Several years
ago, when I served as a teacher for a second-grade Bible study
class, the children read about Jesus washing the disciples’ feet,
and then participated in a foot-washing service in class. I
wondered whether second-graders could be serious and gain some
understanding from the experience, so I had each one repeat as he
or she washed a friend’s feet: “I am doing this because you are my
friend and I care for you.” It was truly a remarkable lesson. The
students were serious, loving and, indeed, nearly reverent. I
think the idea of humbling oneself to be of service to another
was, for the moment, understood.
Similarly, when I
served as a helper on a recent mission trip to the Dominican
Republic, part of my
assignment was teaching children how to wash their hands and clean
their fingernails. Washing their
little soiled hands and speaking gently to them in a language they
didn’t understand was a humbling and touching lesson for me.
We can serve
others in so many ways, both locally and globally. We have only to
seize the opportunity. We
all know there are so many needs to be met. In the serving line at
the Saturday morning
breakfast for the homeless, we meet so many who have needs we can
only imagine. Multiple
races, different circumstances and many disabilities are
represented. It becomes clear
that these are our neighbors. As the hymn says,
“These are the
ones we will serve, these are the ones we will love; all these are
neighbors to us and you.”
Gracious and
loving Lord, we praise you for our many blessings and ask for your
loving guidance, that we may share our abundance with those in
need. Grant that we will serve you with humility and with
thanksgiving in our hearts.
Lotus Gerards
|
The Fifth Wednesday of
Lent |
March 5, 2008 |
LET US BREAK
BREAD TOGETHER
Let us break
bread together on our knees;
let us break
bread together on our knees.
Refrain
When I fall on
my knees,
with my face
to the rising sun,
O Lord, have
mercy on me.
Let us drink
wine together on our knees;
let us drink
wine together on our knees. (Refrain)
Let us praise
God together on our knees;
let us praise
God together on our knees. (Refrain)
Text: African
American spiritual
When I think
about meaningful hymns, my thoughts rush back to childhood Sundays
and my Mom playing KFRM radio on a great big console
TV/radio/stereo before and after church. We heard a wide mix of
artists, from Tennessee Ernie Ford to Mahalia Jackson to Etta
James. We listened to that music until Sunday dinner was served.
We had a house full of boys interested in sports, and it was often
a struggle to get the music turned off for the afternoon football
or basketball game. Mercifully, as far as the boys were concerned,
the program ended around 1 p.m.
I remember most
the tunes we had sung at church, the ones that Mom, as we were
getting dinner ready, was moved to sing out loud along with the
radio. Almost always those were the hymns that everyone at church
knew best and sang loudest. Those sounds stirred my soul even
though I wasn’t very musical. I still feel that way when we sing
old spirituals, or when we have string and brass musicians in the
choir loft, especially on Easter Sunday.
The most
meaningful part of worship for me is communion. The hymn that
everyone seems to know best and sing with the most soul and
conviction is “Let Us Break Bread Together.” Most in the
congregation have their eyes up and heads back, with mouths
punctuating every word. Some folks, though, close their eyes,
feeling every note deeply. You can almost see their hearts are
wide open, soaking in the soulful refrain. “When I fall on my
knees, with my face to the rising sun, O Lord, have mercy on me.”
And it still
gives me goose bumps.
Lord, help us
remember that we celebrate the gift of your son every time we sing
to you.
Bruce Brittain |
The Fifth Thursday of
Lent |
March 6, 2008 |
HOW GREAT THOU
ART
O Lord my God,
when I in awesome wonder consider all the works thy hand hath
made,
I see the
stars, I hear the mighty thunder, thy pow'r throughout the
universe displayed;
Refrain
Then sings my
soul, my Savior God, to thee, how great thou art! How great thou
art!
Then sings my
soul, my Savior God, to thee, how great thou art! How great thou
art!
When through the
woods and forest glades I wander,
I hear the birds sing sweetly in
the trees;
when I look
down from lofty mountain grandeur
and hear the brook and feel the
gentle breeze; (Refrain)
But when I
think that God, his Son not sparing,
sent him to die, I scarce can
take it in,
that on the
cross my burden gladly bearing
he bled and died to take away my
sin; (Refrain)
When Christ
shall come, with shout of acclamation,
and take me home, what joy
shall fill my heart!
Then I shall
bow in humble adoration and there proclaim,
“My God, how great
thou art!” (Refrain)
Text: Carl G.
Boberg, 1859-1940; tr. and adapt. Stuart K. Hine, 1899-1989.
Used by
permission. ©1953 S.K. Hine, assigned to Manna Music, Inc.,
35255 Brooten Road, Pacific City, OR 97135 (ASCAP).
Renewed 1981. All
rights reserved. (ASCAP)
How can anyone
read the words of this hymn and not be awed at God’s power? How
can anyone not be thrilled at the words?
As a Christian, I
know that everything
—
everything
— is created by our God. This hymn voices my belief in that
God. The writer includes every aspect of our lives and nature: the
forest, the birds, the mountains, the brook, the breeze. In this
era of concerns about the universe, the land, the waters, this
hymn reminds us that God created everything we love. We must be
responsible and take care of these natural creations, if we are
going to honor our God. This hymn could be considered a striving
for ecological perfection.
The hymn also
reminds us that Christ died for us, for our sins. I must agree
with the song: “I scarce can take it in.” How unbelievable
that a man, Jesus Christ, would die for me and my sins. I am truly
blessed. This is truly a God, a Christ for all times, for all
peoples, for all places: a God for the universe. Thus, I sing,
“How great thou art.”
Holy Lord and
God, thank you for the beauty of your universe. Help me to
appreciate not only the gifts of nature, but the true gift of your
son, Jesus Christ. Continue to remind me how great thou art.
Barbara Orsak |
The Fifth Friday of
Lent |
March 7, 2008 |
A LOVE SUPREME
(Excerpt)
Keep your eye on
God.
God is. He always
was. He always will be.
No matter what …
it is God.
He is gracious
and merciful.
It is most
important that I know Thee.
Words, sounds,
speech, men, memory, thoughts, fears, and emotions – time, all
related…
All made from
one… all made in one.
Blessed be his
name.
Thought waves –
heat waves – all vibrations – all paths lead to God. Thank you,
God.
His way … it is
so lovely … it is gracious.
It is merciful –
thank you, God.
John Coltrane
1923-1967
Impulse Record
A-77 December 9, 1964; reissued MCA 29020
John Coltrane’s
seminal 1964 jazz album, “A Love Supreme,” was more than another
in a series of groundbreaking recordings — it was his thank you to
God. It was a suite in four parts — “Acknowledgment,”
“Resolution,” “Pursuance” and “Psalm” — and each is an essential
part of this gift.
“Acknowledgment”
opens with the swoosh of a Chinese gong — a sure sign that this is
no conventional jazz album. After his solo, this section concludes
with Coltrane, or Trane, playing the trademark four-note theme “A
Love Supreme” 37 times in a wide variety of keys. Lewis Porter,
author of “John Coltrane: His Life and Music,” interprets this as
showing that God is present in all keys. This seems reasonable
given Trane’s oft-quoted statement that he believed in all
religions. The movement from the saxophone into a chant draws upon
a method of acknowledging God that has been used for thousands of
years.
“Resolution” is Trane’s musical statement renouncing a “period of irresolution”
during which he was addicted to heroin, alcohol and cigarettes,
all of which he simultaneously kicked cold turkey.
Trane writes that
“No road is an easy one but they all go back to God.” In
“Pursuance” the Coltrane Quartet pursues many innovative roads
with tremendous energy and innovation, drawing inspiration from
each other and spurring each other on — the essence of jazz.
“Psalm” concludes
this musical masterpiece by uniting poetry and music with Trane’s
musical narration of the text he wrote for this album. As many
times as I have listened to “A Love Supreme,” I gained newfound
understanding when I simultaneously read along with the text,
noting the ad-libs identified by Porter.
“May we never
forget that in the sunshine of our lives, through the storm and
after the rain
– it is all
with God — in all ways and forever.”
(John Coltrane,
liner notes, “A Love Supreme,” originally recorded 1964, released
by Impulse Records.)
Ted Vlamis |
The Fifth Saturday of
Lent |
March 8, 2008 |
THIS LITTLE LIGHT
OF MINE
This little
light of mine, I'm goin'-a let it shine;
this little light
of mine, I'm goin'-a let it shine;
this little
light of mine, I'm goin'-a let it shine,
let it shine,
let it shine, let it shine.
Ev'rywhere I
go, I'm goin'-a let it shine;
ev'rywhere I
go, I'm goin'-a let it shine;
ev'rywhere I
go, I'm goin'-a let it shine,
let it shine,
let it shine, let it shine.
Jesus gave it
to me, I'm goin'-a let it shine;
Jesus gave it
to me, I'm goin'-a let it shine;
Jesus gave it
to me, I'm goin'-a let it shine,
let it shine,
let it shine, let it shine.
Text: African
American spiritual
This African
American spiritual is one of our grandson Blake’s favorite Sunday
school hymns, and I dedicate this devotion in his memory.
The Bible has
more than 40 references to light. Most are spoken by or about
Jesus, who refers to himself as “… the light of the world.” (John
8:12)
But the verse
that most closely coincides with this hymn is part of our
baptismal liturgy: “Let your light shine before others, so that
they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in
heaven.” (Matthew 5:16)
The “light” in
this hymn and verse refers to each of us as children of our
heavenly Father, created by God, in his image. Our faith is the
fuel for our light. And by living our lives each day as we have
been commanded, we shine and glow and become like John “... a
witness to testify to the light (Jesus Christ), so that all might
believe through him.” (John 1:7) Our actions, our attitudes, our
interactions each day reflect our true light, as the second verse
attests: “Everywhere I go, I’m goin’-a let it shine.”
Then the third
verse wraps it all up and tells us exactly how our light
originated. “Jesus gave it to me, I’m goin’-a let it shine.”
Father, allow our
light to be a bright beacon, each day reflecting our faith and
love for you. Help us to always do what is pleasing in your sight
as our light attests to your grace.
Bob L.
Livingston |
The Fifth Sunday of
Lent |
March 9, 2008 |
BEAUTIFUL SAVIOR
Beautiful
Savior, king of creation, Son of God and Son of Man!
Truly I'd love
thee, truly I'd serve thee, light of my soul, my joy, my crown.
Fair are the
meadows, fair are the woodlands, robed in flow'rs of blooming
spring;
Jesus is
fairer; Jesus is purer. He makes our sorrowing spirit sing.
Fair is the
sunshine; fair is the moonlight; bright the sparkling stars on
high.
Jesus shines
brighter; Jesus shines purer than all the angels in the sky.
Beautiful
Savior, Lord of the nations, Son of God and Son of Man!
Glory and
honor, praise, adoration, now and forevermore be thine!
Text:
Gesangbuch, Münster, 1677; tr. Joseph A. Seiss, 1823-1904
I can’t remember
a time when I didn’t know this hymn. It’s been my favorite for as
long as I can remember. The music is beautiful in itself. I love
to hear the organist play it. The words portray Jesus in so many
wonderful ways — Son of God, Son of Man, King, Lord, Joy, Crown —
nearly all the descriptions of him we need in just four short
verses.
I always feel
peace and calm when singing this hymn. I love the outdoors, and
the comparisons to sunshine, moonlight, meadows, flowers and stars
are meaningful to me. I often feel closer to Jesus when I am
outside, especially in places of exceptional beauty. Nothing
people have built compares to our earth, to the beauty that God
made for us to enjoy. Jesus is like these parts of nature, but
fairer, purer and brighter. He is beyond anything beautiful that
we can see or imagine. This is hard to even think about, but with
faith we can believe that someday we will see Jesus in all his
beauty.
Even in this time
for contemplation and repentance during Lent, Jesus is our light.
He is always with us, no matter what life brings us. “He makes
our sorrowing spirit sing.” Let us continue our somber Lenten
journey knowing that Jesus has conquered all things. He has died
on the cross for us; there is no greater beauty than that.
Beautiful Savior,
help me to sing this song of praise and adoration every day. When
I see my favorite mountains, flowers and plains, let me feel
closer to you. In your name I pray.
Marsha Meili
|
The Fifth Monday of
Lent |
March 10, 2008 |
YOU HAVE COME
DOWN TO THE LAKESHORE
You have come
down to the lakeshore seeking neither the wise nor the wealthy,
but only asking
for me to follow.
Refrain
Sweet Lord, you
have looked into my eyes; kindly smiling, you’ve called out my
name.
On the sand I
have abandoned my small boat; now with you, I will seek other
seas.
You know full
well what I have, Lord; neither treasure nor weapons for conquest,
just these my
fish nets and will for working. (Refrain)
You need my
hands, my exhaustion, working love for the rest of the weary –
a love that’s
willing to go on loving. (Refrain)
You who have
fished other waters; you, the longing of souls that are yearning:
O loving Friend,
you have come to call me. (Refrain)
Text: Cesareo
Gabarain, 1936-1991; Tr. Madeleine Forell Marshall, b. 1946
Used by
permission. © 1979 OCP Publications, 5536 NE Hassalo, Portland,
OR 97213 All rights reserved.
As Jesus came
down to the lakeshore of Galilee, he found Peter and Andrew, James
and John. Jesus was looking for volunteers. He was conducting his
own job fair. For Jesus, a specialist in job placement, this was
personal. The recruits would be working for, with, around and
under his direct supervision. We do not know what conversation
took place that day. Only the words of Jesus: “Come, follow me; I
will make you fish for people.”
Even today Jesus
continues to seek out those who will follow him. It does not
matter who we are
— man or woman, child, teenager, senior citizen
— or where we have been in our lives. Jesus calls us to
follow. As common, ordinary people, we are called to carry the
Gospel message, the good news of Christ, to all the world. And the
greatest job benefit ever offered is in the words of Jesus: “I am
with you always, to the end of the age.”
The call to
discipleship, to follow Jesus, is for each and every one of us.
Jesus is looking for personnel in a very personal way. “You
have come to call me.” From the very beginning, the coming of
Jesus was personal. The angel said to the shepherds: “I am
bringing you good news, for to you this day is born
a Savior who is Christ the Lord.” And, in the words of our
baptism: “I baptize you.” And as Jesus comes to us in Holy
Communion: “This is my body, my blood, given and shed for you.”
Jesus, still
today, is personally looking, searching, asking us to follow him.
The first disciples had no idea what they were getting into when
they began to follow Jesus. Nor do we. So, will we say “yes”? Will
we answer his call to “follow me”?
Jesus, I thank
you for your promise to always be with me. Lord, when you ask me
to follow you, how can I keep from singing the good news of Jesus
to all the world?
Larry Frank,
Parish Ministry Associate
|
The Fifth Tuesday of
Lent |
March 11, 2008 |
WERE YOU THERE?
Were you there
when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my
Lord?
Oh, sometimes it
causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there
when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there
when they nailed him to the tree?
Were you there when they nailed
him to the tree?
Oh, sometimes it
causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there
when they nailed him to the tree?
Were you there
when they pierced him in the side?
Were you there
when they pierced him in the side?
Oh, sometimes it
causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there
when they pierced him in the side?
Were you there
when the sun refused to shine?
Were you there when the sun refused
to shine?
Oh, sometimes it
causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there
when the sun refused to shine?
Were you there
when they laid him in the tomb?
Were you there when they laid him
in the tomb?
Oh, sometimes it
causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there
when they laid him in the tomb?
Text: African
American spiritual, alt.
I like “time
travel” movies. When and where would you like to go? One of my
dream destinations is the Holy Land at about the time John
baptized Jesus. (My other choice would be 365 days in the future to
retrieve next year’s Wall Street Journal with 2008 stock prices.)
Imagine following
Jesus through his years of public ministry. Every descriptive
superlative I can think of is so overused that it would trivialize
the experience. What would it be like to witness the miracles?
Could you get invited to the wedding where Jesus turned water into
wine? Think of all the other miracles — plus sermons, speeches and
parables.
But eventually
you would come to his last week — Holy Week. Could you bear to
witness those events? What if, by time travel, you were there when
they crucified him, nailed him to the tree and laid him in the
tomb? Should you get involved in some way to try to stop it? Or
would it be OK to just leave it in God’s hands, knowing that
everything would end well?
Without time
travel, you can “be there” as nearly every major modern tragedy is
happening, or has just happened. Flip on the TV or log onto a
computer. CNN televises from Baghdad as we are bombing it. Watch a
broadcast of a day in the life of refugees nearly anywhere in the
world — Darfur, Middle East, New Orleans. Go to YouTube.com and
see any number of very recent tragedies. Is it enough to passively
watch and leave it in God’s hands? Aren’t you God’s hand to those
in need?
Heavenly Father,
grant us fortitude to act for those less fortunate, to sing out
when events demand our efforts.
Keith Martin |
The Sixth Wednesday of
Lent |
March 12, 2008 |
LIFT EVERY VOICE
AND SING
Lift ev’ry voice
and sing till earth and heaven ring, ring with the harmonies of
liberty.
Let our rejoicing
rise high as the list’ning skies; let it resound loud as the rolling
sea.
Sing a song full
of the faith that the dark past has taught us;
sing a song full
of the hope that the present has brought us;
facing the rising
sun of our new day begun, let us march on, till victory is won.
Stony the road we
trod, bitter the chast’ning rod, felt in the days when hope unborn
had died;
yet, with a steady
beat, have not our weary feet come to the place for which our
parents sighed?
We have come over a
way that with tears has been watered;
we have come,
treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
out from the gloomy
past, till now we stand at last where the white gleam of our bright
star is cast.
God of our weary
years, God of our silent tears, thou who hast brought us thus far on
the way;
thou who hast by
thy might led us into the light: keep us forever in the path, we
pray.
Lest our feet stray
from the places, our God, where we met thee;
lest, our hearts
drunk with the wine of the world, we forget thee;
shadowed beneath
thy hand may we forever stand, true to our God, true to our native
land.
Text: James Weldon
Johnson, 1871-1938
Like much of
academia during the early 1960s, the University of Iowa was a hotbed
of intellectual and political unrest. The mood of orators on the
student soapbox was strident, and the rhetoric was punctuated with
fire. In fact, the campus was ablaze. Young men burned their draft
cards; young women burned their bras. Together they burned books,
flags and even buildings. Hell, no, I won’t go!
Vietnam wasn’t the
only the only war zone during those unsettled times. The flames of
righteous indignation rose up from Mississippi and Alabama, fanned
by ignorance and hatred. Americans died on American soil, most of
them young black men whose only crime was that they were young black
men.
Not many white
people knew about the “underground railroad” that ran north from
Mississippi to Chicago and Detroit. It wasn’t a railroad at all,
just a series of friendly spots along the way where a tired black
man in search of sanctuary could wash his hands and rest his weary
soul.
One of the stops on
the “railroad” was a flat roof immediately adjacent to my 2nd
floor apartment. Travelers slept on the roof but could access the
building through a walk-in window. My roommate and I welcomed them
to come through the window and use our plumbing before they slept
under the Iowa stars.
I often sat with
the travelers on the rooftop after dark, smoking cigarettes and
inventing a better world. They could have been bitter as they made
the long trip north, sleeping on rooftops far from home, but they
didn’t seem to be. They seemed optimistic that a new day would soon
be dawning and that, when it did, they would be standing in the
light of justice. I pray they found what they were looking for.
God of our weary
years, God of our silent tears … teach us to sing the songs of
justice and equality. Give us strength to fight for the oppressed,
to speak for those who cannot speak for themselves, to care for
those who travel alone. We pray in Jesus’ name.
Dallas Cronk
|
The Sixth Thursday of
Lent |
March 13, 2008 |
LORD OF ALL
HOPEFULNESS
Lord of all
hopefulness, Lord of all joy,
whose trust,
ever child-like, no cares could destroy:
be there at our
waking, and give us, we pray,
your bliss in
our hearts, Lord, at the break of the day.
Lord of all
eagerness, Lord of all faith,
Whose strong
hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe:
be there at our
labors, and give us, we pray,
your strength in
our hearts, Lord at the noon of the day.
Lord of all
kindliness, Lord of all grace,
your hands swift
to welcome, your arms to embrace:
be there at our
homing, and give us, we pray,
your love in our
hearts, Lord, at the eve of the day.
Lord of all
gentleness, Lord of all calm,
whose voice is
contentment, whose presence is balm:
be there at our
sleeping, and give us, we pray,
your peace in
our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day.
Text: Jan Struther,
1901-1953
Used by permission.
© 1931 Oxford University Press
.When I was a sophomore in high school, I got a job as a disc jockey,
working from 6 a.m. to noon on Sunday mornings. I took the job to
get out of going to church.
Once confirmed, teenagers become an endangered species in church and
I was no exception. I didn’t like the high school Sunday school
teacher, and I thought the youth parent-leaders were hypocrites.
Singing hymns left them stuck in my head all day, and I didn’t even
like those songs!
So for two years, I worked as a DJ. I played pop music for two
hours, and then Casey’s Top 40 from 8 a.m. to noon. Every 20
minutes, I did the weather report as “Jenna Jordan.” I was the only
female on-air personality, so I also got to ride on parade floats,
judge Halloween contests and dress up as the station mascot.
But I also got to get up at 5 a.m. And go to work in a building with
questionable heat. And use a bathroom that six men had used all
week. And I missed Easter morning with my family
—
twice.
One Easter, my mom left an Easter basket in my car. I was so excited
to eat jelly beans, I fumbled to open the bag while walking into
work. The beans flew everywhere! Not to waste my Easter treat, I
crawled around in the parking space, picking up the candy. I was
17, on my knees, in a chilly pre-dawn street, thinking “Happy Easter
to me.”
I
realized that the sacrifices I made to get away from church were
successful
— in making me miss it! I soon resigned my
position and eventually made it back to a pew on Sunday morning.
Lord, give us the strength to run
toward you and not away. Forgive us for not always seeking you.
Remind us with gentleness that you are always with us.
Jennifer Worrel
|
The Sixth Friday of
Lent |
March 14, 2008 |
HERE I AM, LORD
I, the Lord of sea and sky, I have
heard my people cry.
All who dwell in deepest sin my hand
will save.
I, who made the stars of night, I
will make their darkness bright.
Who will bear my light to them? Whom
shall I send?
Refrain
Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord? I
have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord, if you lead me. I
will hold your people in my heart.
I, the Lord of snow and rain, I have
borne my people’s pain.
I have wept for love of them. They
turn away.
I will break their hearts of stone,
give them hearts for love alone.
I will speak my word to them. Whom
shall I send? (Refrain)
I, the Lord of wind and flame, I
will tend the poor and lame.
I will set a feast for them. My hand
will save.
Finest bread I will provide, till
their hearts be satisfied.
I will give my life to them. Whom
shall I send? (Refrain)
Text: Daniel L.
Schutte, b. 1946
Used by permission.
© 1981 OCP Publications, 5536 NE Hassalo,
Portland, OR 97213 All rights reserved.
This hymn took on
special meaning almost 19 years ago when our nephew, Michael, was
ordained as a priest. He chose it for his first mass. His mother, my
husband’s sister, died of cancer when Mike was only 15 years old.
Her deep and passionate faith had a profound and lasting influence
on him. He had responded to our Lord’s call and dedicated his life
to serving. We felt joy and happiness for him as he began his
ministry.
God calls us to
serve him in many ways, using our varied gifts to reach out to
others. Do you ever awaken in the night thinking about someone who
is in need of help? The next morning you may feel that you should
take some kind of action, but you lack the confidence to do anything
on your own. Just remember that our Lord will always lead you, if
you will only ask and reach out to him.
The words of this
hymn inspire me to try to be more aware of the needs of others and
be willing to help — to say, “Here I am Lord. Send me!”
Lord, help us
be open to hearing your call and willing to serve in your holy name.
Barbara Lee
|
The Sixth Saturday of
Lent |
March 15, 2008 |
HALLELUJAH! WE
SING YOUR PRAISES
Refrain
Hallelujah! We
sing your praises,
all our hearts
are filled with gladness.
Hallelujah! We
sing your praises,
all our hearts
are filled with gladness.
Christ the Lord
to us said: I am wine, I am bread,
I am wine, I am
bread, give to all who thirst and hunger. (Refrain)
Now he sends us
all out, strong in faith, free of doubt,
strong in faith,
free of doubt. Tell to all the joyful gospel. (Refrain)
Text: South African,
tr. Freedom Is Coming, 1984
English text © 1984
Utryck, admin. Walton Music Corp.
Used by permission.
License Number L13316
Knowing God’s love
puts a smile on my face and joy in my heart. So does this hymn.
The message is
clear: God is the wine and the bread; he will provide us with
everything we need. God asks us to go out and spread the good news
of his love to the entire world! God wants us to be strong in our
faith with no reservations. He wants us to share the news of Jesus
with our neighbors, friends, strangers and enemies.
We should be proud
to admit to everyone: I am a child of God! But that is not always
easy to do. There are times when we are ashamed to admit we are
children of God. There are times when we are afraid to admit we are
children of God. There are times when we are embarrassed to admit we
are children of God.
I have faced
situations when I kept quiet rather than admit I attend church
regularly and know Christ as my Lord and Savior. I am ashamed of
myself at these times, but thankful because I know God can and does
forgive me. During this Lenten season, I hope we all remember how
Jesus stood up to everyone around him and said, “I am a child of
God!” Let’s stand up and spread the news of God’s love for all
people — and be proud to do so.
Dear Lord, give us
the courage to go out into the world and tell others the story of
how Jesus died on the cross for us all. Let each of our voices be
heard as we tell the world: I am a child of God!
Sheryl Johnson
|
PALM SUNDAY |
March 16, 2008 |
O SACRED HEAD, NOW
WOUNDED
O sacred head, now
wounded, with grief and shame weighed down,
now scornfully
surrounded, with thorns thine only crown;
O sacred head, what
glory, what bliss till now was thine!
Yet, though
despised and gory, I joy to call thee mine.
How pale thou art
with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn;
how does thy face
now languish, which once was bright as morn!
Thy grief and
bitter passion were all for sinners' gain;
mine, mine was the
transgression, but thine the deadly pain.
What language shall
I borrow to thank thee, dearest friend,
for this thy dying
sorrow, thy pity without end?
Oh, make me thine
forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never,
never outlive my love to thee.
Text: Paul Gerhardt
1607-1676
Passion/Palm Sunday
is an interesting time in Lent. The day begins with a joyous
procession including palm branches and music. We hail Jesus, the
King, who rides into Jerusalem to the delight of the cheering
crowds. However, by mid-morning, the tone turns more somber. During
the reading of the Passion, we cry out, “Crucify him! Crucify him!”
Jesus, wearing a crown of thorns, is greeted by a taunting, jeering
crowd on his way to the cross.
I feel a sense of
grief and sadness for the way Jesus was treated that day and for my
betrayal of him every day. And yet, because of Christ’s sacrifice,
all who believe in the promise of forgiveness may have eternal life.
This hymn has been
sung by Christians for centuries and expresses the hope that Christ
has given to us through his passion and death on the cross. Many
composers have created larger works based on it, including Johann
Sebastian Bach in his St. Matthew Passion. The last verse provides
all we need to remember when we come to the end of our earthly
journey. Faith in Jesus as our Savior gives us strength to deal
with the pain and adversity of this life and promises us the joy of
life eternal in Christ’s love.
Lord, be my
consolation; shield me when I must die;
remind me of thy
passion when my last hour draws nigh.
These eyes, new
faith receiving, from thee shall never move;
for all who die
believing die safely in thy love.
Marlene Hallstrom,
Associate in Ministry |
Monday of Holy Week |
March 17, 2008 |
ONE BREAD, ONE BODY
Refrain
One bread, one
body, one Lord of all;
One cup of blessing
which we bless;
And we, though many
throughout the earth,
We are one body in
this one Lord.
Gentile or Jew,
servant or free, woman or man no more. (Refrain)
Many the gifts,
many the works, one in the Lord of all. (Refrain)
Grain for the
fields, scattered and grown, gathered to one for all. (Refrain)
Text: John Foley b.
1939
Used by permission.
© 1978 OCP Publications, 5536 NE Hassalo, Portland, OR 97213 All
rights reserved.
Communion is an
important sacrament to Christians. We may have different beliefs
about what the bread and wine mean. We all know they represent the
body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. Some believe the bread and
wine are symbols of the body and blood. Lutherans believe that
within the Eucharistic celebration, the body and blood of Jesus
Christ are objectively present “in, with and under” the bread and
wine.
Jesus is the common
thread for all Christians. This communion of the eating of Jesus’
body and the drinking of Jesus’ blood is a celebration of him
sacrificing his life that we may live. All we have to do is believe
in him.
Recently I watched
a television reporter interviewing a boy evangelist. She was
questioning the boy’s ability to fully understand his Christian
beliefs. Her question to him was: “I am a Buddhist. I can’t go to
heaven even though I am a good person?” His answer was, “No!”
The boy’s answer
might not strike you as politically correct, but Jesus tells us we
must believe in him to receive everlasting life. We cannot achieve
it through good works.
Christians
understand that God gave his loving son to atone for all our sins.
All that is required of us is to believe that Jesus is the son of
God and that he died for our sins, overcame death and was
resurrected. The only thing standing in the way of his gift is us.
We have the freedom to believe and accept Jesus in our hearts
— or not. God doesn’t make the choice. We do.
Heavenly Father, we ask for your
strength as we face our everyday trials and tribulations. Help us
remember that celebrating Holy Communion is our way of confessing
our sins while
witnessing our faith.
Richard McDiffett
|
Tuesday of Holy Week |
March 18, 2008 |
LET ALL MORTAL
FLESH KEEP SILENCE
Let all mortal
flesh keep silence, and with fear and trembling stand;
ponder nothing
earthly-minded, for with blessing in his hand
Christ our God to earth
descending comes full homage to demand.
King of kings,
yet born of Mary, as of old on earth he stood,
Lord of lords in
human vesture, in the body and the blood,
he will give to
all the faithful his own self for heav'nly food.
Rank on rank the
host of heaven spreads its vanguard on the way;
as the Light of
light, descending from the realms of endless day,
comes, the
pow'rs of hell to vanquish, as the darkness clears away.
At his feet the
six-winged seraph, cherubim with sleepless eye,
veil their faces
to the presence, as with ceaseless voice they cry:
"Alleluia!
Alleluia!
Alleluia, Lord
Most High!"
Text: Liturgy of St.
James; tr. Gerard Moultrie, 1829-1885, alt.
If I were asked to
choose my favorite song in the Evangelical Lutheran Worship book, I
couldn’t. I would not be able to narrow it down to only one. Way too
many speak to me spiritually, emotionally and aesthetically.
But this hymn –
this worshipful meditation – would be close to the top of my list.
The words, fittingly matched with a hauntingly beautiful melody,
call me to consider just who it is (creator of the universes,
and more) that we call God! And to respond with worship … with
worship!
Some of my other
favorites are what are called “praise” songs. And yes! praise
to our God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – is certainly called
for. Indeed it is probably inseparable from worship.
Other old favorites
contain important challenges to holy living or faithful service and
witness. I could go on and on. These emphases, and many others, are
important for the deepening of my faith and strengthening of my
discipleship. But the words of worship voiced in this hymn need to
literally infuse my very being – consciously and subconsciously –
every day of my life that, together with “the rank on rank” of
heavenly hosts, I might hold our God in awed adoration.
To realize the
astonishing truth that our God is also our heavenly Father – Abba,
Father (which some have said means “Daddy”) – is almost more than I
can handle. My response can only be an awed and heartfelt
worship! Thanks, praise and adoration!
And so, omnipotent,
high and holy God,
Beautiful Savior,
we worship and adore you,
“ALLELUIA!
ALLELUIA! ALLELUIA, Lord Most High”
Amen and Amen!
Wil Johnson
|
Wednesday of Holy Week |
March 19, 2008 |
ABIDE WITH ME
Abide with me, fast
falls the eventide.
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide.
When other helpers
fail and comforts flee,
help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.
I need thy presence
ev’ry passing hour;
what but thy grace can foil the tempter’s pow’r?
Who like thyself my
guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, oh, abide with
me.
Swift to its close
ebbs out life’s little day;
earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass
away;
change and decay in
all around I see;
O thou who changest not, abide with me.
I fear no foe, with
thee at hand to bless;
ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death’s
sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if thou abide
with me!
Hold thou thy cross
before my closing eyes,
shine through the
gloom, and point me to the skies;
heav’n’s morning
breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
in life, in death,
O Lord, abide with me.
Text: Henry F. Lyte,
1793-1847
It’s a tradition in
my family to sing to children after bedtime prayers to help them
settle down for sleep. I can’t remember not knowing the first,
second and fifth verses of “Abide with Me,” which Mom included in
the bedtime songfest at least twice a week.
Even when I was
really young, the notion of where one day fits with respect to
forever took root. And it continues to grow. The best days and the
rottenest days of my young life were all small. When I’d look at the
good days, with games, trees to climb, creeks to explore, they were
just small tastes of what was still coming. When I’d look at the bad
days, they became more like bumps in the road, and not all that
tough.
The constant prayer
in this song is that Jesus stay close. A good or a bad day is still
truly and honestly good or bad, but whether it’s good or bad is not
so important when Jesus abides with me. The hymn has helped me pay
attention to how God is always near and how his hand is at work.
It’s also good to
know that God isn’t changing. I’m changing. The world around me is
changing. And the way in which I see and understand the world is
changing. Day turns to night, time passes by, and things are
different. But God was, is and will be the same. God is right there
next to me. He shines through any gloom and points me to the skies.
Jesus, thank you
for coming to us and staying with us. Please help us remember that
you’re always with us, keeping us your own.
Tim Meyer
|
MAUNDY
THURSDAY |
March 20, 2008 |
LORD WHOSE LOVE IN
HUMBLE SERVICE
Lord, whose love in
humble service bore the weight of human need,
who upon the cross,
forsaken, worked your mercy’s perfect deed:
we, your servants,
bring the worship not of voice alone, but heart;
consecrating to
your purpose ev’ry gift which you impart.
Still your children
wander homeless; still the hungry cry for bread;
still the captives
long for freedom; still in grief we mourn our dead.
As you, Lord, in
deep compassion healed the sick and freed the soul,
by your Spirit send
your power to our world to make it whole.
As we worship,
grant us vision, till your love’s revealing light
in its height and
depth and greatness dawns upon our quickened sight,
making known the
needs and burdens your compassion bids us bear,
stirring us to
ardent service, your abundant life to share.
Called by worship
to your service, forth in your dear name we go,
to the child, the
youth, the aged, love in living deeds to show;
hope and health,
good will and comfort, counsel, aid, and peace we give,
that your servants,
Lord, in freedom may your mercy know and live.
Text: Albert F.
Bayley, 1901-1984. Used by permission. © 1961 Oxford University
Press
Maundy Thursday.
The Last Supper. Jesus was together with his disciples in fellowship
and friendship, Passover tradition and remembrance, covenant and
commitment, closeness and caring, danger and betrayal. We join him
and them, this Holy Thursday.
The Gospels of
Matthew, Mark and Luke, and Paul (1 Corinthians 11) offer accounts
of Jesus giving himself in the bread and wine of the first Holy
Communion: “This is my body... This is my blood...” He becomes part
of us, and we part of him, one body. That is meaningful to me for
living each day with hope, forgiveness, comfort and peace.
There is more. In
John’s Gospel, Jesus kneels and washes the dirty feet of his
disciples, a humble servant’s task. He said, “Unless I wash you, you
have no share with me.” (John 13:8) In acts of simple caring, we
become part of him, and he of us. I imagine him washing and
embracing me. Jesus reveals his new commandment: “Just as I have
loved you, you also should love one another.” (John 13:34) I
experience his caring today through you.
That inspires and
moves me to try to serve in useful ways. Jesus encourages us all to
be as Christ to one another. We worshipers gather at the holy table
and move out into the hungry, hurting, hoping world with God’s gifts
of life and grace. There are holy, humble moments in our everyday
work, aspirations, decisions and relationships: our everyday
communion with the world around us. This hymn sings it well.
Gracious God, thank
you for coming to us in Jesus Christ, in his holy supper and in his
servants who share your caring love. May we carry your love into our
world today.
The Rev. Sally
Fahrenthold, retired
|
GOOD FRIDAY |
March 21, 2008 |
WERE YOU THERE?
Were you there when
they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh, sometimes it
causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when
they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when
they nailed him to the tree?
Were you there when they nailed him to
the tree?
Oh, sometimes it
causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when
they nailed him to the tree?
Were you there when
they pierced him in the side?
Were you there when
they pierced him in the side?
Oh, sometimes it
causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when
they pierced him in the side?
Were you there when
the sun refused to shine?
Were you there when the sun refused to
shine?
Oh, sometimes it
causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when
the sun refused to shine?
Were you there when
they laid him in the tomb?
Were you there when they laid him in the
tomb?
Oh, sometimes it
causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when
they laid him in the tomb?
Text: African
American spiritual, alt.
This
African-American spiritual compels us to bridge time and space, and
place ourselves squarely in events central to the Christian faith.
“Were you there,” the song asks rhetorically, knowing full well
we were. “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?... when
they nailed him to the tree?...when they pierced him in the side?...
when the sun refused to shine?... when they laid him in the tomb?”
I remember many
Good Friday services, some at Reformation, when the central focus
was a large wooden cross. This hymn was sung with deep emotion in a
dimly lit sanctuary as we contemplated the death of Jesus. And there
was little doubt that somehow, by faith, what had taken place back
then in Bible times was really part of the present. And the present,
filled with burden and guilt, somehow was transported back to the
day when Christ himself was lifted up.
The liturgy says,
“In baptism our gracious heavenly Father frees us from sin and death
by joining us to the death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus
Christ.” (p. 227, Evangelical Lutheran Worship) In the
mystery of God, time ceases. The past is made present and the
present is taken to the past. Even now in faith we are given a
foretaste of the future.
Holy Week, indeed
the whole of the church year, is not simply the remembering of the
teachings and events of Jesus’ life in the past. The liturgies take
us deeply into the life of Jesus, into the mysteries of God and the
gift of salvation. “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”
Yes, and most importantly, we were there receiving life and
salvation from our Lord.
The Rev. Gerald
Mansholt,
Bishop, Central
States Synod |
Saturday of Holy Week |
March 22, 2008 |
I AM THE BREAD OF
LIFE
"I am the Bread
of life. You who come to me shall not hunger,
and who believe in me
shall not thirst.
No one can come
to me unless the Father beckons."
Refrain
"And I will
raise you up, and I will raise you up, and I will raise you up on
the last day."
"The bread that
I will give is my flesh for the life of the world,
and if you eat
of this bread, you shall live forever, you shall live forever."
(Refrain)
"Unless you eat
of the flesh of the Son of Man and drink of his blood,
and drink of his
blood, you shall not have life within you." (Refrain)
"I am the
resurrection, I am the life.
If you believe
in me, even though you die, you shall live forever." ( Refrain)
Yes, Lord, I
believe that you are the Christ,
the Son of God,
who have come into the world. (Refrain)
Text: Suzanne Toolan,
RSM, b. 1927, based on John 6
Text © 1966, 1970,
1986, 1993 GIA Publications, Inc., 7404 S. Mason Ave., Chicago, IL
60638. www.giamusic.com. 800.442.3358.
All rights reserved.
Used by permission.
When Roman
Catholics pray the rosary, they contemplate four sets of mysteries
in the life of Jesus: the joyous mysteries, the glorious mysteries,
the luminous mysteries and the sorrowful mysteries. The sorrowful
mysteries include the agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, the
scourging at the pillar, the crowning with thorns, the carrying of
the cross and the crucifixion.
As Lutherans, we
spend much of Holy Week contemplating these same mysteries. As
humans, we spend much of our lives contemplating our own pain.
Knowing Christ does not take away our pain. Yet, somehow, the
suffering of Christ can give us hope to live through the hard times.
Let’s face it —
whatever our problems, Jesus’ problems were worse: He was
illegitimate, poor, transient, homeless, misunderstood, pressured to
perform, unjustly accused, abandoned and killed.
Jesus’ life was
much harder than our lives. Even as we contemplate Christ’s
suffering, we know that his story did not end in suffering. And
neither will ours. Knowing Christ heals us.
The 20th
century theologian Frederick Buechner said, “The birth of Jesus made
possible not just a new way of understanding life but a new way of
living it.” Through his suffering, we are healed.
Lord Jesus, you
know our sorrows. In all our suffering, you are with us. That is
your promise. There is nothing we suffer that you do not know.
Through you, we gain strength and find hope to keep living. Thank
you.
Quinn Gorges,
Seminarian
|
EASTER SUNDAY |
March
23, 2008 |
NOW ALL THE VAULT
OF HEAVEN RESOUNDS
Now all the
vault of heav'n resounds in praise of love that still abounds:
"Christ has
triumphed! He is living!" Sing, choirs of angels, loud and clear!
Repeat their
song of glory here: "
Christ has triumphed! He is living!" Alleluia,
alleluia, alleluia!
Eternal is the
gift he brings, therefore our heart with rapture sings:
"Christ has
triumphed! He is living!" Now still he comes to give us life
and by his
presence stills all strife.
"Christ has triumphed! He is living!"
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!
Oh, fill us,
Lord, with dauntless love; set heart and will on things above
that we conquer
through your triumph; grant grace sufficient for life's day
that by our lives
we truly say:
"Christ has triumphed! He is living!" Alleluia,
alleluia, alleluia!
Adoring praises
now we bring and with the heav'nly blessed sing:
"Christ has
triumphed! Alleluia!" Be to the Father, and our Lord,
to Spirit blest,
most holy God,
all the glory, never ending! Alleluia, alleluia,
alleluia!
Text: Paul Z.
Strodach, 1876-1947, alt.
Used by permission.
© 1958 Augsburg Fortress Publishers
My favorite part of
Easter worship is the opening hymn. During Lent, the mood has been
solemn. We have reflected on our need for repentance, heard the
story of Christ’s passion and looked forward to the good news of
this day: Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!
When I was growing
up, nothing seemed to express that good news as well as the opening
hymn in my home church. After the darkness of Good Friday, we
gathered on Easter to proclaim the good news. As we stood to sing,
the usual organ was joined by a brass choir. Trumpets, trombones and
French horns rang out. It was as if I could actually hear the vault
of heaven resounding!
What a joyous day!
What terrific news! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Christ has
triumphed over death and the grave. But we could not celebrate the
great glory of this day without the days that preceded it. Easter
Sunday couldn’t come without Good Friday. We have once again heard
the story of Christ’s crucifixion, of his burial in the tomb. Yet
today, the tomb is empty!
Hear the message
the angel shared with the women who went to see Christ’s tomb on
that first Easter morning: “Do not be afraid; I know that you are
looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been
raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go
quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead,
and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see
him’” (Matthew 28:5-7).
The women at the
tomb shared the message from the angel
—
the message that leads us to join with choirs of angels as we sing
out the good news today and every day! Christ is risen! He is risen
indeed! Alleluia! With that news in hand, how can we keep from
singing?
Holy and living
One, help us to always sing your praise and share the good news of
your death and resurrection, not just on this day, but every day. We
pray in the name of your son, the risen and living One, Jesus Christ
our Lord.
The Rev. Kristin Neitzel, Associate Pastor |
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