Category Archives: Poetry and lyrics

Song of the Week

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Flash

I’ll chase the light at four o’clock
Until I glow, until I know
I’m draped in color like the trees;
It’s beautiful to me.

I stare into the setting sun
On 35, until I find
A way to let it seep into my soul;
It’s beautiful to me.But You call me with a light more bright than anything I’ve ever seen—

Flash for a million miles or more
Until what is dead is swallowed by life;
Flash for a million miles or more
Until my whole life is clothed in eternal light.

Tonight the stars are whispering
A mystery while we sleep—
It’s more than just another wish for peace;
It’s beautiful to me.But You call me with a light more bright than anything I’ve ever seen—

Chorus

Bridge
In a moment we’ll all be changed,
And this dim reflection will fade away
Compared to the light that You offer us
And the glory we’ll see on Your face.
You’re beautiful to me; You’re beautiful to me.

ChorusWords and music: Allison Ogren
© 1999 Photon Music
From the album Follow the Narrow, by Clear

All aboard!

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Ready to Ride

Sixth Street, sun is going down;
Pavement’s cool underneath.
A vagrant, so they say in town;
Seems like mercy can’t compete.

Sleeping in a doorway
Near the docks of Oyster Bay.
Thirteen years of carrying shame,
Never hearing the voice of the One who took his blame.
A whisper—
He raised his head . . .

Surrendered out, do you believe,
Are you ready to ride the train?
Abandoned not by love, you’ll see,
If you’re ready to ride.

A one-piece paper suitcase;
A past whose future was foretold.
A life not made for dying;
Instead the mystery began to unfold.
Unfolding—
He raised his head . . .

Chorus

Bridge
Born into despair an orphan child—
Will You care for me?
And like the train that saved me,
Adopted in by love eternally.

Opening His arms, He wants you rich, you poor, you black, you white;
Receive His love that runs so deep and high and long and wide.

ChorusWords and music: Matt Berry
© 1998 Photon Music
From the album Clear, by Clear

My thanks to Bill for directing my attention to this song; he posted the video and got the song stuck in my head, so I went out and bought the CD (which was dirt cheap on SecondSpin, at least). I’ve been thinking about the lyrics off and on ever since. It’s not the greatest lyric I’ve ever run across (it seems to me the bridge gets a little muddled for a moment), but I love the song’s central image, which I think the video captures quite well. In particular, I think there are two things this lyric gets at which we too often forget.One, we are the vagrant in the face of God’s mercy and grace; as Malcolm Muggeridge put it, we are the beggars at the foot of God’s door. We none of us earn our way to God; we can only accept his unearned (and too often unwelcome) invitation. By mercy and that alone we live.Two, God’s invitation to us isn’t to some private little one-on-one thing, it’s to ride the train. When you get on the train, you share the journey with whoever else is on there, and the train goes where it’s going to go; you have no control over where it’s going—that was determined by the one who set the route for the rails—or who your companions are. You’re all in the journey together; your only choice is to take it or get off. It seems to me that’s a wonderful metaphor for the life of faith. It’s not like driving our own car, because we don’t have the freedom to pick the route or set our own speed—God does that—or to make the journey on our own, because we become fellow travelers with the rest of the people of God, whether we always appreciate that fact or not. The train, the church, is going, God knows who and where and why and how fast, and he simply invites us to climb aboard and take our part in what he already has in process.”The worship God is seeking relies completely on His initiative, knowing that the only true expression of worship is through the abandonment of all our agendas for His, as we trust in His sovereign power and unlimited grace . . .”

Song of the Week

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In his weekly links post yesterday, Jared quoted a hymn that I’ll have to look up, because I love these lines (thanks to Sinclair Ferguson for quoting them):

O Jesus! full of pardoning grace,—
More full of grace than I of sin.

That’s perfectly put, and well worth remembering. It reminded me, though, of a hymn I haven’t thought about in ages, one which Dr. Packer used to quote us from time to time in class; so I decided to post it.

I Sought the LordI sought the Lord, and afterward I knew
He moved my soul to seek Him, seeking me;
It was not I that found, O Savior true;
No, I was found of Thee.

Thou didst reach forth Thy hand and mine enfold;
I walked and sank not on the storm-vexed sea;
‘Twas not so much that I on Thee took hold,
As Thou, dear Lord, on me.

I find, I walk, I love; but O the whole
Of love is but my answer, Lord, to Thee!
For Thou were long beforehand with my soul;
Always Thou lovedst me.Words: The Pilgrim Hymnal, 1904
Music: George W. Chadwick
PEACE, 10.10.10.6

Song of the Week

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I’m preaching a series on the Ascension this Easter season, inspired by the Rev. Gerrit Scott Dawson of First Presbyterian Church (EPC) in Baton Rouge and his work on the subject; this hymn is one we’ll be singing this morning as we begin the series. It’s a text by my RCA colleague James L. H. Brumm, and I appreciate it because it captures the significance of Jesus’ ascension for us.

God Has Gone Up with Shouts of Joy!God has gone up with shouts of joy!
Christ claims the throne of glory:
Immortal Word in mortal flesh
To share with God our story
Of humans lost to death and sin
Who ache to be invited in
To Love’s eternal blessing.

Christ has gone up, still bearing wounds,
Still bound to race and gender;
His royal robe all crimson blood;
His triumph all surrender.
Now we, though bound to who we are,
Can follow, with our pain and scars,
To Love’s eternal blessing.

Christ has gone up! Now Christ in us
Leads all the world to glory.
The Word finds voice on Fiery Breath;
Our lives relate the story
Of how God went through death and Hell
That we might have Immanuel
And Love’s eternal blessing!Words: James L. H. Brumm
Music: Bohemian Brethren’s Kirchengesänge, 1566
MIT FREUDEN ZART , 8.7.8.7.8.8.7.

Just for grins

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I remember reciting this poem in 7th grade, because I thought it was funny; it still amuses me, though it sounds a bit formal to my ear now. It was written, I believe, by a woman named Carolyn Wells.

The Overworked ElocutionistThere was once a little boy whose name was Robert Reese;
And every Friday afternoon he had to speak a piece.
So many poems thus he learned, that soon he had a store
Of recitations in his head, and still kept learning more.

And now this is what happened: He was called upon one week
And totally forgot the piece he was about to speak.
He brain he cudgeled. Not a word remained within his head!
And so he spoke at random, and this is what he said:

“My beautiful, my beautiful, who standest proudly by,
It was the schooner Hesperus–the breaking waves dashed high!
Why is this Forum crowded? What means this stir in Rome?
Under a spreading chestnut tree, there is no place like home!

“When freedom from her mountain height cried, ‘Twinkle, little star,’
Shoot if you must this old gray head, King Henry of Navarre!
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue castled crag of Drachenfels,
My name is Norval, on the Grampian Hills, ring out, wild bells!

“If you’re waking, call me early, to be or not to be,
The curfew must not ring tonight! Oh, woodman, spare that tree!
Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on! and let who will be clever!
The boy stood on the burning deck, but I go on forever!”

His elocution was superb, his voice and gestures fine;
His schoolmates all applauded as he finished the last line.
“I see it doesn’t matter,” Robert thought, “what words I say,
So long as I declaim with oratorical display.”

Another poem for the week

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George Herbert is one of my favorite poets, and I think this is my favorite of all his poems. I thought about it last night going to prayer meeting.

Prayer (I)Prayer the Church’s banquet, Angels’ age,
God’s breath in man returning to his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet sounding heav’n and earth;
Engine against th’Almighty, sinners’ tower,
Reverséd thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six-days world transposing in an hour,
A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear,
Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,
Exalted Manna, gladness of the best,
Heaven in ordinary, man well dressed,
The milky way, the bird of Paradise,
Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul’s blood,
The land of spices; something understood.

The Dumbfounding

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(I’m just in a Margaret Avison mood all of a sudden, for whatever reason. For those not familiar with her work, she was a Canadian poet, whose Christian faith was a powerful force in her poetry. She died last July at the age of 89, having been lauded as one of Canada’s national treasures; the Globe and Mail rightly called her contribution to Canadian literature “incalculable.” This poem is the title piece of her second collection, which was the first one published after her conversion to Christianity in 1963. It seems an appropriate piece for the Easter season.)

The DumbfoundingWhen you walked here,
took skin, muscle, hair,
eyes, larynx, we
withheld all honor: “His house is clay,
how can he tell us of his far country?”

Your not familiar pace
in flesh, across the waves,
woke only our distrust.
Twice-torn we cried “A ghost”
and only on our planks counted you fast.

Dust wet with your spittle
cleared mortal trouble.
We called you a blasphemer,
a devil-tamer.

The evening you spoke of going away
we could not stay.
All legions massed. You had to wash, and rise,
alone, and face
out of the light, for us.

You died.
We said,
“The worst is true, our bliss
has come to this.”

When you were seen by men
in holy flesh again
we hoped so despairingly for such report
we closed their windpipes for it.

Now you have sought
and seek, in all our ways, all thoughts,
streets, musics—and we make of these a din
trying to lock you out, or in,
to be intent. And dying.

Yet you are
constant and sure,
the all-lovely, all-men’s way
to that far country.

Winning one, you again
all ways would begin
life: to make new
flesh, to empower
the weak in nature
to restore
or stay the sufferer;

lead through the garden to
trash, rubble, hill,
where, the outcast’s outcast, you
sound dark’s uttermost, strangely light-brimming, until
time be full.

Hymn for Easter

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Alleluia, Alleluia!Alleluia, alleluia! Hearts to heaven and voices raise:
Sing to God a hymn of gladness, sing to God a hymn of praise;
He who on the cross a victim for the world’s salvation bled—
Jesus Christ, the King of Glory, now is risen from the dead.

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Death at last has met defeat:
See the ancient powers of evil in confusion and retreat;
Once he died, and once was buried: now he lives forever more,
Jesus Christ, the world’s Redeemer, whom we worship and adore.

Christ is risen, we are risen! Set your hearts on things above;
There in all the Father’s glory lives and reigns our King of love;
Hear the word of peace he brings us, see his wounded hands and side!
Now let every wrong be ended, every sin be crucified.

Alleluia, alleluia! Glory be to God on high:
Alleluia to the Savior who has gained the victory;
Alleluia to the Spirit, fount of love and sanctity!
Alleluia, alleluia to the Triune Majesty!Words: Christopher Wordsworth; vv. 2-3 alt. Jubilate Hymns
Music: Ludwig van Beethoven, adapt. Edward Hodges
HYMN TO JOY, 8.7.8.7.D

Hymn for Good Friday

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Go to Dark GethsemaneGo to dark Gethsemane,
You that feel the tempter’s power;
Your Redeemer’s conflict see,
Watch with him one bitter hour:
Turn not from his griefs away—
Learn of Jesus Christ to pray.

Follow to the judgment hall;
View the Lord of life arraigned.
O the wormwood and the gall!
O the pangs his soul sustained!
Shun not suffering, shame, or loss—
Learn of him to bear the cross.

Calvary’s mournful mountain climb;
There, adoring, at his feet,
Mark that miracle of time,
God’s own sacrifice complete:
“It is finished!” hear him cry;
Learn of Jesus Christ to die.Words: James Montgomery, alt.
Music: Richard Redhead
REDHEAD, 7.7.7.7.7.7.

Hymn for Palm Sunday

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Lift Up Your Heads, Ye Mighty GatesLift up your heads, ye mighty gates;
Behold, the King of glory waits!
The King of kings is drawing near;
The Savior of the world is here.

O blest the land, the city blest,
Where Christ the ruler is confessed!
O happy hearts and happy homes
To whom this King of triumph comes!

Fling wide the portals of your heart;
Make it a temple, set apart
From earthly use for heaven’s employ,
Adorned with prayer and love and joy.

Redeemer, come, with us abide;
Our hearts to thee we open wide;
Let us thy inner presence feel;
Thy grace and love in us reveal.

Thy Holy Spirit lead us on
Until the glorious crown is won;
Eternal praise, eternal fame
Be offered, Savior, to thy Name!Words: Georg Weissel, translated by Catherine Winkworth
Music: Thomas Williams
TRURO, LM