Immortal, Invisible God Only Wise

 [posted in this month of Father's Day]

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. 

Suburban Phoenix, AZ

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 as leaves on the tree, 

And wither and perish; but naught changeth Thee.

Lake Tahoe, Nevada, USA

Great Father of glory, pure Father of light, 

Thine angels adore thee, all veiling their sight.

All praise we would render, O help us to see:

'Tis only the splendor of light hideth Thee.

--Walter C. Smith, D.D., 1867  

Rev. Smith was born in Aberdeen Scotland in 1824.  He studied theology in Edinburgh and held several pastorates.  In 1876, he became a minister in the Free Kirk [Church] of Scotland. This is a conservative Presbyterian denomination that resisted merging with other Presbyterian groups in Scotland. 

This hymn is the only poetry of Smith's still in common usage.  It does not speak clearly to the central teaching of Christianity, Christ dying for humanity's sin. But its words inspire Christians enough to continue including it in hymnals.

Wikipedia: Walter Chalmers Smith

Now Thank We All Our God

                    

Now thank we all our God, 

With heart and hands and voices;

Who wondrous things has done, 

In whom this world rejoices. 

Who from our mothers' arms 

Has blessed us on our way 

With countless gifts of love, 

And still is ours today. 

1st Mother's Day

O may this bounteous God 

Through all our life be near us; 

With ever joyful hearts 

And blessed peace to cheer us;

And keep us still in grace 

And guide us when perplexed; 

And free us from all ills

In this world and the next. 

Composite image: as if my daughter and I are at the same youthful age in heaven

All praise and thanks to God 

The Father now be given; 

The Son, and Him Who reigns 

With Them in highest heaven: 

The one eternal God, 

Whom earth and heaven adore; 

For thus it was, is now

And shall be evermore. 

--Rev. Martin Rinkart, ~1636; translated by Catherine Winkworth, 1855

    Rev. Martin Rinkart was a German Lutheran pastor during the 30 Years War. The war was a series of conflicts between Roman Catholic and Protestants across Europe from 1618 to 1648.  The conflict raged across much of Europe but was particularly devastating in the German provinces.

     Pastor Rinkart wrote this hymn as the war was nearing its end.  He had been exposed to some of its tremendous horrors, including disease, which often grows out of warfare.  Still, he wrote this hopeful hymn.  It is based on Wisdom of ben Sirach 50:22-24, from the Apocrypha. The Apocrypha are books that are considered Scripture by Roman Catholics and the Eastern Orthodox but not Lutherans and other Protestants.  Martin Luther had said these books were worth reading, though not canonical Scripture.  Yet Rinkart wrote his hymn based on one of these passages. 

     This is one of my all-time favorite hymns.  Sometimes it is nice to read hymns as poems.  This year, it is posted for Mother's Day, initially, because of the reference to "mothers' arms." 

The Destin Log: Story Behind the Song

Prayer Answered by Crosses

 

I ask’d the Lord, that I might grow

In faith, and love, and ev’ry grace,

Might more of his salvation know,

And seek more earnestly his face.

‘Twas he who taught me thus to pray,

And he, I trust has answer’d pray’r;

But it has been in such a way,

As almost drove me to despair.

I hop’d that in some favour’d hour,

At once he’d answer my request:

And by his love’s constraining pow’r,

Subdue my sins, and give me rest.

Instead of this. he made me feel

The hidden evils of my heart;

And let the angry pow’rs of hell

Assault my soul in ev’ry part.

Yea more, with his own hand he seem’d

Intent to aggravate my woe;

Cross’d all the fair designs I schem’d,

Blasted my gourds*, and laid me low.

Lord, why is this, I trembling cry’d,

Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death?

“‘Tis in this way,” the Lord reply’d,

“I answer pray’r for grace and faith.

“These inward trials I employ,

“From self and pride to set thee free;

“And break thy schemes of earthly joy,

“That thou mayst seek thy all in me.”

     --John Newton (1725-1807); author of "Amazing Grace" and many other poems & hymns  

*Book of Jonah:  God dried things up to prove a point to Jonah about Jonah's hardness of heart towards the Ninevites

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)

Here Between Ass & Oxen Mild

 

1. Here between ass and oxen* mild,

Sleep, sleep, sleep my little Child.

Thousand seraphim,

Thousand cherubim

Keeping watch above 

This Mighty God of Love. 

 

 

2.  Here within Mary's sweet embrace

Sleeps, sleeps, sleeps this Fruit of Grace. 

Thousand seraphim,

Thousand cherubim

Keeping watch above 

This Mighty God of Love.  

 

3. Here between rose and lily sweet**

Sleep, sleep, sleep, my Son petite.

Thousand seraphim,

Thousand cherubim

Keeping watch above 

This Mighty God of Love.

 

4.  Here between the shepherds wondering

Sleep, sleep, Jesus, newborn King.

Thousand seraphim,

Thousand cherubim

Keeping watch above 

This Mighty God of Love.  

 

  

5.  On this holy day which God chose well

Sleeps, sleeps, sleeps Emmanuel.

Thousand seraphim,

Thousand cherubim

Keeping watch above 

This Mighty God of Love.  

 

-- developed from the 13th century French carol, “Entre le bœuf et l’âne gris” ["Between the Ox & Grey Donkey"]; this version (c) C. Marie Byars, 2023

 

*The "ox and ass" portrayals go beyond assuming what might be in a stable. Medieval Roman Catholic churchmen and songwriters were adding their interpretation of Isaiah 1:3-- "The ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master’s feed trough [manger, crib], but Israel does not know; My people do not understand."

 

 A donkey may or may not have conveyed the pregnant Mary to Bethlehem. The Bible doesn't say.  An otherwise hale and hearty Mary may have walked the 90 mile journey.

 

What Child Is This   Also features ox and donkey.  

 

**The lily was a symbol of the Virgin Mary's purity.  (Though not used for old Christmas symbolism, it's a nice way to remember the story of Good Friday & Easter were already embedded into the Christmas account.)   The rose has variously been a symbol of Mary and of Jesus.  For both, it is a symbol of purity.  When used as a symbol of Jesus, it hearkens back to then Old Testament Rose of Sharon (which was actually a crocus in Hebrew, a small, early spring bulb flower!).  The Rose of Sharon was the one who pursued His beloved in the Song of Solomon.  

 

(There are various myths about winter roses and Mary's searching and struggles, also, which cropped up over the centuries.)

 

The Nativity in the photos is our own.  It is a composite of a couple different Italian sets.   We wait until closer to Epiphany (January 6) to put out the Wise Men.

An Easter Carol

               

                Spring bursts to-day,
For Christ is risen and all the earth's at play.

                Flash forth, thou Sun,
The rain is over and gone, its work is done.

                Winter is past,
Sweet Spring is come at last, is come at last.

                Bud, Fig and Vine,
Bud, Olive, fat with fruit and oil and wine*.

                Break forth this morn
In roses, thou but yesterday a Thorn**.

                Uplift thy head,
O pure white Lily through the Winter dead.

                Beside your dams
Leap and rejoice, you merry-making Lambs.

                All Herds and Flocks
Rejoice, all Beasts of thickets and of rocks.

                Sing, Creatures, sing,
Angels and Men and Birds and everything.

                All notes of Doves
Fill all our world: this is the time of loves.    

                                                 -Christina G. Rossetti (1830-1894)

  

*Habakkuk chapter 3
**Compares the flowerless rose, all thorns "just yesterday", to the contrast between Good Friday, when the Lord died, to the blossom of His resurrection on Easter.

Autumn Violets

 

Keep love for youth, and violets for the spring:
Or if these bloom when worn-out autumn grieves,
Let them lie hid in double shade of leaves,
Their own, and others dropped down withering;
For violets suit when home birds build and sing,
Not when the outbound bird a passage cleaves;
Not with dry stubble of mown harvest sheaves,
But when the green world buds to blossoming.
Keep violets for the spring, and love for youth,
Love that should dwell with beauty, mirth, and hope:
Or if a later sadder love be born,
Let this not look for grace beyond its scope,
But give itself, nor plead for answering truth—
A grateful Ruth tho' gleaning scanty corn*. 

  --Christina Rosetti; Macmillan's Magazine; NOV, 1868 

*Book of Ruth.  Landowners were required not to glean (gather grain crops) overly zealously; they were supposed to leave something behind for the poor.  Ruth, who moved from her home in Moab to Israel with her Israelite mother-in-law Naomi (after both were widowed), gleaned to support both of them.  The landowner eventually fell in love with her and married her; she became an ancestress of Christ.

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

Sledding

2006, Northern Arizona

2012, East of Albuquerque

2017, Yellowstone

Snowcoaching

Jan, 2019 near Grand Canyon

Feb, 2019 N. AZ

Sledding in summer clothes?  Fooled you.

2009, White Sands, NM

Now Winter Nights Enlarge

[for winter, nature & Valentine's Day]

Now winter nights enlarge

The number of their hours;

And clouds their storms discharge

Upon the airy towers.

Let now the chimneys blaze

And cups o’erflow with wine,

Let well-turned words amaze

With harmony divine.

Ft. Tuthill, Northern Arizona

Now yellow waxen lights

Shall wait on honey love

While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights

Sleep’s leaden spells remove.

This time doth well dispense

With lovers’ long discourse;

Much speech hath some defense,

Though beauty no remorse.

All do not all things well;

Some measures comely tread,

Some knotted riddles tell,

Some poems smoothly read.

The summer hath his joys,

And winter his delights;

Though love and all his pleasures are but toys,

They shorten tedious nights.

     --By Thomas Campion; ~1601

b.12 February 1567, d. 1 March 1620