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”

From Old Narnia to New Narnia

[technically prose;  a reflection on the passage of time and of all things as this year draws to a close]

     "So," said Peter, "Night falls on Narnia.  [Narnia is destroyed; comes to an end.]  What, Lucy!  You're not crying?  With Aslan ahead and all of us here?"
     "Don't try to stop me, Peter, " said Lucy.  "I am sure Aslan would not.  I am sure it is not wrong to mourn for Narnia.  Think of all that lies dead and frozen behind that door."
     "Yes, and I did hope,"  said Jill, "that it might go on forever.  I knew our world couldn't.  I did think Narnia might."...

     "Peter, " said Lucy, "where is this, do you suppose?"
     "I don't know," said the High King.  "It reminds me of somewhere, but I can't give it a name.  Could it be somewhere we once stayed for a holiday when we were very, very small?"
     "It would have to have been a jolly good holiday," said Eustace.  "I bet there isn't a country like this anywhere in our world.  Look at the colours.  You couldn't get a blue like the blue on those mountains in our world."...
    "If you ask me, " said Edmund, "It's like somewhere in the Narnian world.  Look  at those mountains ahead... Surely they're rather like the mountains we used to see from Narnia, the ones up Westward beyond the Waterfall?"
     "Yes, so they are, "  said Peter.  "Only these are bigger."
      [They compare some of the other Narnian mountains to what they are seeing.]
     "And yet they're not like," said Lucy.  "They're different.  They have more colours on them and they look further away than I remembered and they're more...more...oh, I don't know..."
     "More like the real thing," said the Lord Digory softly...
     "Kings and Queens, " [Farsight the Eagle] cried, "we have all been blind.  We are only beginning to see where we are.  from up there I have seen it all---Ettinsmuir, Beaversdam, the Great River, and Cair Paravel still shining on the edge of the Eastern Sea.  Narnia is not dead.  This is Narnia."....
     "The Eagle is right, " said the Lord Digory.  "Listen Peter.  When Aslan said you could never go back to Narnia, he meant the Narnia you were thinking of.  But that was not the real Narnia.  That had a beginning and an end.  It was only a shadow or a copy of the real Narnia, which has always been here and always will be here...  You need not mourn over Narnia, Lucy.  All of the old Narnia that mattered, all the dear creatures, have been drawn into the real Narnia..."

     It is as hard to explain how this sunlit land was different from the old Narnia, as it would be to tell you how the fruits of that country taste...The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more.  I can't describe it any better than that...
     It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling.... "I have come home at last!  This is my real country.  I belong here.  This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now.  the reason why we loved the old Narnia is that is sometimes looked a little like this..."

     The light ahead was growing stronger.. And then she forgot everything else, because Aslan [the Great Lion] was coming, leaping down from cliff to cliff like a living cataract of power and beauty...Then Aslan turned to them [after talking to other creatures] and said:
     "You do not yet look so happy as I meant you to be."
     Lucy said, "We're so afraid of being sent away, Aslan.  And you have sent us back into our own world so often.
    "No fear of that," said Aslan.  "Have you not guessed?"
   Their hearts leaped, and a wild hope rose within them.
    [Aslan explains that they died in their own world.   That they and the  Pevensie parents have come out of the "Shadow-Lands" and will stay in the New Narnia forever.]
     And as He spoke, He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them...now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which on one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before."

--C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle.  (c) 1956

Journey of the Magi

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.
And the camels galled, sorefooted,
   refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling and running away,
  and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out,
   and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty
   and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees* on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away
in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for
pieces of silver**,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information,
  and so we continued
And arriving at evening,
not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was
(you might say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly
We had evidence and no doubt.
I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different;
   this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us,
   like Death, our death***.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old
   dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.


---T.S. Eliot, 1927  (c) by owner

* A foreshadowing of the three crosses, Jesus's and the two thieves
**Judas betraying Jesus for 30 pieces of silver; the soldiers gambling for his cloak
**Christ came to suffer death for our sins.  Death was haunting even the birth.

The Golden Morning [Sun]

(apropos for Thanksgiving, though originally German)

The golden morning,
Joy her adorning,
On us is gleaming,
Rays brightly beaming,
With her beloved heart-quickening light.
My head and members
Lay deep in their slumbers,
But now awaking,
All sleep from me shaking,
Gazing on heav’n, I rejoice at the sight.

Mine eye’s beholding
God’s work unfolding,
Made for His glory,
Telling the story
Of all His power so mighty and great
And where the Father
His faithful shall gather
In peace, whenever
Earth’s ties they shall sever,
Leaving this mortal and perishing state.

Come ye with singing,
Our Maker bringing
Each good and blessing
We are possessing:
All be to God as an offering brought,
The best oblation
Our heart’s adoration.
Songs meet and thankful
Are incense and cattle
With which His pleasure most fitly is sought.


Evening and morning,
Sunset and dawning,
Wealth, peace, and gladness,
Comfort in sadness:
These are Thy works; all the glory be Thine!
Times without number,
Awake or in slumber,
Thine eye observes us,
From danger preserves us,
Causing Thy mercy upon us to shine.


Though all decayeth,
God ever stayeth,Nor doth He waver,
He changeth never,
His Word and will have unchangeable ground.
His grace and favor
Are steadfast forever,
In our hearts healing 
Death’s pangs that we’re feeling,
Keeping us now and eternally sound.


Father, O hear me,
Pardon and spare me;
Calm all my terrors,
Blot out mine errors
That by Thine eyes they may no more be scanned.
Order my goings,
Direct all my doings;
As it may please Thee,
Retain or release me;
All I commit to Thy fatherly hand.

The good and healthful,
The harmful, unhelpful,
Thou my Physician,
Who know’st my condition,
Hast ne’er more chastened than any should be.
Griefs, though heart-rending,
All have their ending;
Though seas be roaring
And winds outpouring,
Thereafter shines the dear sun’s blessèd face.

Fullness of pleasure
And glorious leisure
Then will be given
To me there in heaven,
Where all my thoughts are directing their gaze.

--Paul Gerhardt, 1666.  Translation, composite.  (adapted)

For All the Saints

[a little late for All Saints Day on November 1st,
but the thoughts go on]

For all the saints who from their labors rest,
Who Thee by faith before the world confess,
Thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest,
Alleluia! Alleluia!

 O blest communion, fellowship divine,
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine.
Alleluia! Alleluia!


 

My grandma, in her glory since 1996

But, lo, there breaks a yet more glorious day;
The saints triumphant rise in bright array;
The King of Glory passes on His way.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

 From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast,
Through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
Singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Alleluia! Alleluia!

 The golden evening brightens in the west;
Soon, soon, to faithful warriors cometh rest.
Sweet is the calm of Paradise the blest.
Alleluia! Alleluia!

---William W. How, 1864



 

Lord of All Hopefulness

[Happy Labor Day!]

 

 Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy,
Whose trust, ever child-like, no cares can 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.

 

---"Jan Struther"  (Joyce Maxtone Graham)* , 1931

*This authoress of many Anglican hymns was, actually, agnostic, although she regularly attended church.  We shall take her work in the fullest Christian sense.

Old Glory in Nature's Glory

 

 
 
 

Monument Valley, Arizona (Navajo Reservation)

 

North Carolina Mountains


 

A Song of Spring

[more apropos to the colder climes; our spring came suddenly & summer's practically here!]

The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood* of hodden** grey.

The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,***
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.

She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
The trees are out in Heaven they say^.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.

                 ---- Katherine Tynan***8; 1859-1931

*Snood:  a mesh, cloth or yarn bag used for gathering up a woman's hair, especially a long mass of hair.  (Often had the idea of keeping a woman's sexuality "hidden" or "protected."  Here the author suggest that spring is too long hidden.)
**Hodden: coarse cloth worn by the peasants of Scotland.  Hodden Grey was known for being worn by certain military regiments
***This poem is a bit somber, sober, even "down" for a spring poem.  It reflects life in a more northern climate. Also, it reflects some the "zeitgeist" of our current times: seeing so many challenging things on so many fronts, waiting, hoping; waiting, ultimately, for Christ to return.
^A picture of the new life in heaven.

****Katharine Tynan (23 January 1859 – 2 April 1931) was an Irish-born writer  educated at St. Catherine's, a convent school in Drogheda. Her poetry was first published in 1878. She met and became friendly with the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins in 1886.  Hopkins' work is featured frequently in this blog.

 

 

 

 

 

Choreographed

Nature's singing me her song,
And around me is a dance:
      The sunlight on the water,
       The aspens' quaking leaves,
       The playful dragonflies,
        My own two happy feet.

 

My heart is filled with wild joy;
I know who wrote the song:
       He gave it melody
       And wove in harmony;
       He sets its steady rhythm
       And makes the whole world dance.

You hear the moments out-of-tune
When Nature's lost the harmony;
     But my Composer saved a better song
     To sing another place...
     Where melodies are never sad,
     And the only song is love.

                     
    ----C. Marie Byars; Ft. Jackson, SC; May, 1986
          [written with memories of the southwestern U.S. in mind]
 

Bird Room

Still at it with the new house: now it's the settling in for this new year.  The kitchen/dining area has a real "bird theme", which relates to this blog.  I often hear birds singing outside, despite living in this metro area: 

 

Creator Spirit

(Blessed Pentecost)

By the Word of Yahweh were the heavens made,
And all their hosts by the Spirit of His mouth.  (Psalm 33:6)

You send forth Your Spirit, they are created;
And you renew the face of the earth.  (Psalm 104:30)*

 

(*Biblical Translations by Marie Byars)

 

Me and Baby Jesus

(A Houston Christmas)

A Way in a manger,
No hat for my head,
The little lord Jesus
At least had a bed.

The street lights above
Dim the stars in the sky....
Can He see me down here
As I close my eyes?   
  

"Hark" the corner carolers sing
And Army bellers with baskets ring.
Sirens sounding break the night,
Wholly, wholly, wholly fright.

Be near me lord Jesus
I beg you, I pray.
Don't ever leave me,
Or at least til it's day.

Bless me Father for I have sinned.
Come Lord Jesus, Be our Guest,
Quickly, Amen!

No crying He makes
Tho He took All our pain.
He's the Joy in my world,
A warm heart in cold rain.

        






Dogs bark, and babies wake,
Here I lay for Heaven's sake.
From Heaven He came,
To Heaven He'll take -
Me, and Baby Jesus. 

--Carolyn Crandell Koch (c)2013

Author's commentary:   I was inspired to write this while at church I sat and sang, yet I thought about the men on the corner looking for work, or the homeless. I felt in contrast yet I also felt hope, as I know Jesus came down to save us from our lowest points of grief, pain, sin, and ultimately death.

Chief of Sinners, Though I Be

[For Valentine's Day &  Lent, 2013]

Chief of sinners though I be,
Jesus shed His blood for me*,
Died that I might live on high,
Lives that I might never die.
As the branch is to the Vine,
I am His and He is mine!

Oh, the height of Jesus' love,
Higher than the heav'ns above,
Deeper than the depths of sea,
Lasting as eternity,
Love that found me -- wondrous thought!
Found me when I sought him not...

Chief of sinners though I be,
Christ is all in all to me.
All my wants to him are known;
All my sorrows are His own.
Safe with him in earthly strife,
I await the heav'nly life.   ---William McComb (19th Century)

* "....Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief [foremost]."    ---St. Paul, from I Timothy 1:15 (NKJV)

Huron Carol

['Twas in the Moon of Wintertime]

'Twas in the moon of wintertime
When all the birds had fled,
That God the Lord of all the earth
Sent angel choirs instead.
Before their light the stars grew dim
And wond'ring hunters heard the hymn:

Jesus, your King, is born;
Jesus is born!
In excelsis gloria!

Within a lodge of broken bark,
The tender Babe was found
A ragged robe of rabbit skin
Enwrapped His beauty round
And as the hunter braves drew nigh,
The angel song rang loud and high:

Jesus, your King, is born;
Jesus is born!
In excelsis gloria!

O children of the forest free,
The angels' song is true.
The Holy Child of earth and heav'n
Is born today for you
Come kneel before the radiant Boy
Who brings you beauty, peace and joy:

Jesus, your King, is born;
Jesus is born! 

In excelsis gloria!   

---Jean de Brebeuf; 16th century; translated J.E. Middleton, 1926 (altered)

http://www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas.com/Hymns_and_Carols/twas_in_the_moon_of_wintertime.htm

[I bring an unaccustomed wine]

[published at this Thanksgiving time to remind us to share those things for which we are thankful]   

"The First Thanksgiving";  J.L.G. Ferris, early 20th century

I bring an unaccustomed wine

To lips long parching, next to mine,

And summon them to drink.

 

Crackling with fever, they essay;

I turn my brimming eyes away,

And come next hour to look.

 

The hands still hug the tardy glass;

The lips I would have cooled, alas!

Are so superfluous cold,

 

I would as soon attempt to warm

The bosoms where the frost has lain

Ages beneath the mould.*      

 

Some other thirsty there may be

To whom this would have pointed me

Had it remained to speak.

"The First Thanksgiving"; Jennie Augusta Brownscombe, 1914

 

 

 

 

 

And so I always bear the cup

If, haply, mine may be the drop

Some pilgrim thirst to slake,--

 

If, haply, any say to me,

"Unto the little, unto me," **

When I at last awake.

---Emily Dickinson

*She attempted to help someone who was in need & ill.  But the person still died.
**Matthew 25:35.  Jesus said that whenever one of the believers takes the trouble to feed and clothe someone who seems to be "least" among the believers, it is as if they have helped out Jesus Himself. And Jesus indicates that this will be recognized on the Last Day, when He returns.

Proof

That I did always love,
I bring thee proof:
That till I loved
I did not love enough.

That I shall love alway,
I offer thee
That love is life,
And life hath immortality.

This, dost thou doubt, sweet?
Then have I
Nothing to show
But Calvary.* ---Emily Dickinson
* The mountain where Jesus died.

Calm on the Listening Ear of Night

1. Calm on the listening ear of night

Come heaven's melodious strains,

Where wild Judea stretch'ed far

Her silver mantled plains.

2. Celestial choirs from courts above

Shed sacred glories there;

And angels, with their sparkling lyres,

Make music on the air.

3. The answering hills of Palestine

Send back the glad reply;

And greet, from all their holy heights, The Dayspring* from on high.

4. O'er the blue depths of Galilee**

There comes a holier calm,

And Sharon*** waves, in solemn praise,

Her silent groves of palm.

5. "Glory to God!" the sounding skies

Loud with their anthems ring,

"Peace to the earth, good will to men,

From heaven's eternal King!"

6. Light on thy hills, Jerusalem!

The Savior now is born:

More bright on Bethlehem's joyous plains

Breaks the first Christmas morn.

---Edmund Hamilton Sears, 1834 (abridged)

*Dayspring: a poetic expression of "The Rising Sun", specifically the Messiah come to earth. From Luke 1:78, the Song of Zechariah at the birth of his son, John the Baptist. John was born to prepare the way of Jesus, the Messiah.

**The Sea of Galilee, up in the northern region of the Holy Land.

***Plain of Sharon: a lush coastal plain in Israel, between Joppa to the south & Mt. Carmel to the north.

Photo still from "The Nativity Story" (c) 2006

When All Else Fails.....Rejoice!

Though the fig tree does not blossom 

Nor grapes on the vines; 

Though the olive crop fails 

And the fields yield no fruit, 

Though there are no flocks in the stalls, 

Yet will I rejoice in Yahweh 

And will be joyful in the God of my salvation. The Lord Yahweh is my strength; 

He makes my feet like the deer's"

He makes me [able] to tread on high places. 

For the Director of Music. On my [Habakkuk's] stringed instruments. ---Habakkuk 3:17-19 

Habakkuk had been praying to Yahweh (God) throughout this book about various injustices. God's own people were cheating others. Then the Babylonians (Chaldeans) were to come to punish the Jews, but the Babylonians were a violent people. But each time, God gave Habakkuk an answer, and the prophet wrote this song in the end to praise God, whatever the circumstances surrounding him might be.

Great Is Thy Faithfulness*

1."Great is Thy faithfulness," O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

(Chorus) "Great is Thy faithfulness!" "Great is Thy faithfulness!"
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—
"Great is Thy faithfulness," Lord, unto me!

2. Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon and stars in their courses above,
Join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

3.Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,
Thy own dear presence to cheer and to guide;
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

---Thomas Obediah Chisholm, 1923

*Based on Lamentations 3:22-24: "Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness." (NIV)