O Little Town of Bethlehem

O little town of Bethlehem How still we see thee lie: 

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep 

The silent stars go by; 

Yet in thy dark streets shineth 

The Everlasting Light; 

The hopes and fears of all the years 

Are met in thee tonight. 

For Christ is born of Mary, 

And gathered all above, 

While mortals sleep, the angels keep 

Their watch of wondering love. 

O morning stars, together 

 Proclaim the holy birth! 

And praises sing to God the King, 

 And peace to men on earth. 

How silently, how silently 

The wondrous gift is giv'n; 

So God imparts to human hearts 

The blessing of His heaven; 

No ear may hear His coming, 

But in this world of sin, 

Where meek souls will receive Him still 

The dear Christ enters in. 

Where children pure and happy 

Pray to the blessed Child: 

Where Misery cries out to Thee, 

Son of the undefiled; 

Where Charity stands watching, 

And Faith holds wide the door, 

The dark night wakes, the glory breaks, 

And Christmas comes once more. 

O Holy Child of Bethlehem! 

 Descend to us, we pray, 

Cast out our sin, and enter in, 

Be born in us today; 

We hear the Christmas angels 

The great glad tidings tell; 

O come to us, abide with us,  

Our Lord Emmanuel*!

  --Father Phillip Brooks, Episcopal priest, 1868

*Emmanuel (or Immanuel) is Hebrew for "God with us" 

Father Brooks was inspired to write this hymn by a trip to the Holy Land. 

The tune this is most often sung to in the United States, "St. Louis", was penned rather hastily at the author's request by his organist, Lewis Redner.  The tune "Forest Green" used in the UK and the Commonwealth is an adaptation of a folk tune.  Ralph Vaughn Williams made the adaptation and set this hymn to that tune in 1906.

Hymnary.org O Little Town of Bethlehem

Philadelphia Encyclopedia "O Little Town of Bethlehem"

Hymnology Archive "O Little Town of Bethlehem

The Cross

In evil long I took delight,

Unawed by shame or fear,

Till a new object struck my sight,
And stopped my wild career.

I saw One hanging on a tree,
In agonies and blood;
He fixed His languid eyes on me,
As near His cross I stood.

Sure never till my latest breath,
Shall I forget that look!
It seemed to charge me with His death,
Though not a word He spoke.

A second look He gave, which said,
"I freely all forgive;
This blood is for thy ransom paid;
I die that thou mayest live."

Thus while His death my sin displays
In all its blackest hue,
Such is the mystery of grace,
It seals my pardon too!

—John Newton (author of "Amazing Grace"; 1725-1807) 

[Thee God I come from, to Thee go]

                                                           

Thee, God, I come from, to thee go,

 All day long I like fountain flow 

From thy hand out, swayed about 

Mote-like* in thy mighty glow.         

Hopkins in his early years

What I know of thee I bless, 

As acknowledging thy stress 

On my being and as seeing 

Something of thy holiness.     

Once I turned from thee and hid, 

Bound on what thou hadst forbid; 

Sow the wind I would; I sinned: 

I repent of what I did. 

Hopkins as a young priest

Bad I am**, but yet thy child.

Father, be thou reconciled. 

Spare thou me, since I see 

With thy might that thou art mild. 

I have life before me still 

And thy purpose to fulfil; 

Yea a debt to pay thee yet: 

Help me, sir, and so I will. 

Hopkins in later years

But thou bidst, and just thou art, 

Me shew mercy from my heart 

Towards my brother, every other 

Man my mate and counterpart.

--Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J., 1885

                                                                 

*speck-like

**should not be taken as a call to wallow in poor self-esteem; rather, this recognition of original sin helps us understand the lack of perfection in all of us and our need for God's forgiveness.  We all want to go off our own ways, and we are not naturally altruistic and loving towards others. 

Gerard Manley Hopkins: Poetry Foundation

The Lord Will Provide

Though troubles assail 

And dangers affright, 

Though friends should all fail 

And foes all unite; 

Yet one thing secures us, 

Whatever betide, 

The scripture assures us, 

The Lord will provide. 

The birds without barn 

Or storehouse are fed, 

From them let us learn 

To trust for our bread: 

His saints, what is fitting, 

Shall ne’er be denied, 

So long as ’tis written, 

The Lord will provide.

We may, like the ships, 

By tempest be tossed 

On perilous deeps, 

But cannot be lost. 

Though Satan enrages 

The wind and the tide, 

The promise engages, 

The Lord will provide. 

His call we obey 

Like Abram of old, 

Not knowing our way, 

But faith makes us bold; 

For though we are strangers 

We have a good Guide, 

And trust in all dangers, 

The Lord will provide. 

When Satan appears 

To stop up our path, 

And fill us with fears, 

We triumph by faith; 

He cannot take from us, 

Though oft he has tried, 

This heart–cheering promise, 

The Lord will provide. 

He tells us we’re weak, 

Our hope is in vain, 

The good that we seek 

We ne’er shall obtain, 

But when such suggestions 

Our spirits have plied, 

This answers all questions, 

The Lord will provide. 

No strength of our own, 

Or goodness we claim, 

Yet since we have known 

The Savior’s great name; 

In this our strong tower 

For safety we hide, 

The Lord is our power, 

The Lord will provide. 

When life sinks apace 

And death is in view, 

This word of his grace 

Shall comfort us through: 

No fearing or doubting 

With Christ on our side, 

We hope to die shouting, 

The Lord will provide.

 —John Newton (1725-1807) from Olney Hymns, 1779 [author of "Amazing Grace"]

Perfect Love

     This is another year that Valentine's Day falls on Ash Wednesday.  A real reminder of the sacrificial love of all the Saint Valentines.  (See also my other blog for some Valentine's thoughts)

Thanksgiving of Another Sort

 

  For more thoughts for this Thanksgiving season, click the "autumn" link to the left on the desktop version of this blog.

Lakes & Rivers

We took a trip to the White Mountains in Arizona this fall.  Yes, this, too is Arizona.  (It's not all desert and the large, branching saguaro cacti.  BTW, AZ is the only state in the US where those cacti grow.)  Here are some photos of Big Lake in the White Mountains (near Greer) and the Little Colorado River near Springerville.   

There are other blog postings, as noted, with some of the autumnal plant life from this trip.

There is related Biblical poetry woven throughout the various postings.

Enjoy!  Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Americans reading this. Blessed fall season to the rest of my Northern Hemisphere friends reading this!

[Yahweh says]:

"I will open rivers on the bare heights

And springs within the valleys;

I will make the wilderness a pool of water

And dry lands springs of water."  Isaiah 41:18

[Part "deux"]

See, there is a river whose streams make glad the City of God, the dwelling places of the Most High.  Psalm 46:4

Then [the angel] showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, flowing from the Throne of God and of the Lamb... On each side of the river was the Tree of Life... No longer will there be any curse... they [the people of God] will see His Face...  from Revelation chapter 22, a vision of heaven.

 

Ego Eimi

 

ἐγώ εἰμι

Jesus says: 

"I AM the world's Light             (John 8:12)

Who outshines eternal night."

"I AM the Good Shepherd        (John 10:14)

And the door for the sheep:      (John 10:7, 9)

The sheep hear My word

And within may safely sleep."

"I AM the Bread of Life;          (John 6)

The Way, the Truth and the Life;    (John 14:6)

The Resurrection and the Life."   (John 11:25)

"I AM the True Vine

And you are the branches--        (John 15: 1,5)

Without what is Mine,

You do only what man does."

εἰμι ἐγώ

Paul answers for all of us:

"Christ Jesus came into the world for sinners,

First of whom am I."      (I Timothy 1:15)

ἐγώ εἰμι

Jesus says:

"Before Abraham was, I AM."  (John 8:58)

"I AM" in Hebrew

Moisture Comes to Arizona

Rain, Rain,

Came again,

Came to ease our climate's pain.

Cloud, Cloud,

You're no shroud;

You're a joy to have around.

Snow, Snow,

Do not go:

Beautify us here below.

"Cleanse me with hyssop,

And I shall be clean;

Wash me,

And I shall be whiter than snow."  (Psalm 51:7)*

Grey, Grey,

Gone away:

Would you stay another day?

Sun, Sun,

Elsewhere fun,

Here you give our drought a run.

Rain, Rain,

Come again:

Leave us not with hopes in vain.

"'For just as the rain comes down

And snow from the heavens

And does not return there

Without watering the earth...

Thus is My Word

Which goes forth from my mouth:

It does not return to Me void.'"  (from Isaiah 55:10-11)*

--C. Marie Byars, (c) 2021

*original retranslations of the Bible from Hebrew

 

This poem is fourth in a series of drought & rain across Arizona.  These are the other three:

What Color is Your Christmas?

Rain Redux

Perspectives

The below links show pictures of the author (and family) sledding in the US Southwest across the past several years.

More Sledding, More Snow

Sledding

 

 

Imagine

 

Imagine...

love that embraces the enemy

grace that preaches repentance

joy that strengthens during depression

peace that accompanies the conflicted

hope that enlivens the dying

Jesus gives this.  --Rev B.T. (c) 2021

Jesus, Refuge of the Weary

Jesus, Refuge of the weary,
Blest Redeemer Whom we love.
Fountain in life's desert dreary,
Savior from the world above.
Oh, how oft Thine eyes, offended
Gaze upon the sinner's fall;
Yet upon the cross extended,
You have born the pain of all.

Do we pass that cross unheeding,
Breathing no repentant vow,
Though we see Thee wounded, bleeding,
See Thy thorn encircled brow?
Yet Thy sinless death has brought us
Life eternal, peace, and rest;
Only what your grace has taught us
Calms the sinner’s deep distress.

Jesus, may our hearts be burning

With more fervent love for Thee;
May our eyes be ever turning
To Thy cross of agony
Till in glory, parted never
From the blessed Savior’s side,
Carved into our hearts forever,
Dwell the cross, the Crucified.

By Girolamo Savonarola; translated by Lady Jane Wilde, adapted

Girolamo Savonarola was an Italian Dominican friar and preacher.  (In his zeal to reform the Roman Catholic Church, before Luther came along, he unfortunately destroyed some secular art in Italy.) He called for Christian renewal and expressed skepticism towards the culture of his day.

Good Friday

(Valentine's Day and Ash Wednesday arrive on the same day this year. This poem is an early preview for both.  It deals with the "heart" in the most important way.  It is a nice Lenten reflection, of course.)

Am I a stone, and not a sheep*,
That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy cross,
To number drop by drop Thy blood’s slow loss,
And yet not weep?

Not so those women loved
Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;
Not so fallen Peter, weeping bitterly;
Not so the thief was moved**;

Not so the Sun and Moon
Which hid their faces in a starless sky,
A horror of great darkness at broad noon –
I, only I.**

Yet give not o’er,
But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;
Greater than Moses***, turn and look once more
And smite a rock*.   

--Christina Rossetti, 1866

*She's saying her heart is like a stone because she's not moved to tears over Christ's crucifixion like a "sheep", a "true follower" (John 10) would be.  She picks up the idea again at the end, asking Christ to break her heart of stone.

**The women at the cross, the repentant Peter, even one of the thieves crucified with Jesus were moved to sorrow.  Even the Sun was somehow darkened from about noon to 3 pm, at a time when it could NOT have been a solar eclipse (full Moon).  Nature itself expresses sadness, but the poetess indicates she feels strangely unmoved.

***Deuteronomy 18:  Christ was prophesied as the New Prophet, greater than Moses.  He is also the Shepherd (John 10; Psalm 23).   Moses broke open a rock to get water out of it (Numbers 20), but Christ does a greater thing by breaking open hearts of stone.

On Christmas Night All Christians Sing*

On Christmas night all Christians sing
To hear the news the angels bring:
News of great joy, news of great mirth,
News of our merciful King’s birth.

Angels with joy sing in the air,
No music may with theirs compare;
While prisoners in their chains rejoice
To hear the echoes of that voice.

So how on earth can men be sad,
When Jesus comes to make us glad;
From sin and hell to set us free,
And buy for us our liberty?

When sin departs before His grace,
Then life and health come in its place;
Angels and men with joy may sing,
All to see our newborn King.

Then out of darkness we see light,
Which makes the angels sing this night
“Glory to God and peace to men
Now and forevermore. Amen.”

---A folk carol of rural England & Ireland, 
         *known in some versons as "The Sussex Carol"

From St Patrick

God, my God, omnipotent King, I humbly adore thee.

Thou art King of kings, Lord of lords. Thou art the Judge of every age.

Thou art the Redeemer of souls.

Thou art the Liberator of those who believe.

 Thou art the Hope of those who toil.

Thou art the Comforter of those in sorrow.

Thou art the Way to those who wander.

Thou art Master to the nations.

Thou art the Creator of all creatures.

Thou art the Lover of all good.

Thou art the Prince of all virtues.

Thou art the joy of all Thy saints

Thou art life perpetual.

Thou art joy in truth.

Thou art the exultation in the eternal fatherland.

Thou art the Light of light.

Thou art the Fountain of holiness.

Thou art the glory of God the Father in the height.

Thou art Savior of the world.

Thou art the plenitude of the Holy Spirit.

― St. Patrick 

“For that sun, which we see rising every day, rises at His command… - Greg Tobin, The Wisdom of St. Patrick from St. Patrick’s Confession”

Come Unto Me, You Weary

“Come unto Me, you weary,
And I will give you rest.”*
O blessèd voice of Jesus,
Which comes to hearts oppressed!
It tells of consolation,
Of pardon, grace and peace,
Of joy that has no ending,
Of love which cannot cease.
 
 "Come unto me, you wanderers, 
And I will give your light."
O loving voice of Jesus, 
Which comes to cheer the night!
Our hearts were filled with sadness, 
When we had lost our way;
But He has brought us gladness 
And songs at break of day.

"And anyone who comes forth, 
I will not cast him out."
O patient love of Jesus, 
Which drives away our doubt,
Which, though we be unworthy 
Of love so great and free,
Invites us very sinners 
To come as we may be!

--William C. Dix, ~1867; adapted c.m.b., 2014

Dix wrote of this hymn:

I was ill and de­pressed at the time, and it was al­most to idle away the hours that I wrote the hymn. I had been ill for ma­ny weeks and felt weary and faint, and the hymn real­ly ex­press­es the lan­guid­ness of bo­dy from which I was suf­fer­ing at the time. Soon af­ter its com­po­si­tion I re­cov­ered, and I al­ways look back to that hymn as the turn­ing point in my ill­ness.

*"[Jesus said]' 'Come unto Me, all you who are weary and heavily burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.'"  (Matthew 11:28-30)