This is prefatory to a post or three on Pope Benedict XVI’s latest encyclical, which has gotten me thinking about hope, and faith. That in turn, though, along with a conversation with Hap, got me thinking about these songs, so I decided to post them.
Come InIf you’re standing next to someone
Who doesn’t know your name,
Come in, pull up a chair;
You and me, we are the same.
This is the palace of the thinkers, dreamers, in-betweeners,
The broken record-players hearing something in this music;
Here the wind blows softly, carrying a note forever,
Cradling the melody of hope.
If you’re screaming in the dark
And no one hears your voice,
Welcome to this whole new world of sound;
Come in, friend, sit down.
Chorus
Oh, it’s the atmosphere of truth
With an offering of peace;
Under your flesh of withered pride,
So many broken dreams,
Fallen man and other things . . .
If you’re reaching out to no one
And holding in a smile,
Come in and know your name;
Oh, friend, I’m listening.ChorusWords and music: Sarah Masen
© 1996 River Oaks Music/Andi Beat Goes On Music
From the album sarah masen, by Sarah Masen
Hope Like a StrangerHope, like a stranger, came to my door;
I was afraid, I was rude—”What are you coming here for?
Have you come to stay, or are you just passing through?
I’ve seen your face, but I do not know you.”
He said, “You know me, but I’ve had to remain
Hidden in the shadows of your sorrow and pain,
For you have lived your life as a slave, so it seems,
Believing your nightmares instead of your dreams.”
Hope, like a stranger, posed a question like a dare:
“Can you mask the mysteries of your heart, pretending not to care?
For the thing that you dismissed with your cynical façade
Was the hope you’d been given from the very heart of God.
And it drove you in secret, but you held it close at bay,
And you tried to disown me, but you’re not made to be that way;
So I stand here longing, for no matter where you run
I will wait like the Father of the Prodigal Son.”
He said, “Hope, by itself, it can never be an end—
It’s like holding paper money that’s impossible to spend.
Unless the value is a given, the bargain’s incomplete.”
Then he showed me the scars on his hands and his feet.
I touched his wounds as I steadied my nerve;
He said, “I only bear the marks of the Master I serve,
And He sends me here to tell you I am bound up with Him.
You’d do well, when he comes, to also let Him in.”
Hope, like a stranger, came to my door;
But he’s risen and he stays a stranger no more. Words and music: Bob Bennett
© 1991 Bright Avenue Songs
From the album Here on Bright Avenue, by Bob Bennett
HopeWe’ll be taking off our clothes to sing;
We’ll be wearing our own skin.
We’ll be taking off a whole lot more
Just so we can sing,
Just so we can sing.
Hope is coming out tonight,
Knocking at the door.
You’ve got to let that stranger in,
Looking at your soul,
Looking at your soul.
A peeling and a shedding mind,
Changing what we’re worth—
Blessed are the meek, somehow;
They’re taking in the earth,
Taking in the earth.
And all this talk of love and peace
And wanting something true—
Well, peace can cut the rope sometimes
That’s holding on to me and you,
Holding on to me and you.
Chorus
No sentimental bags of gold
To occupy the hurt;
It’s knowing what the demons sold
When falling to the earth,
When falling to the earth.
Now I’m stretching out across the land,
Trying my best to understand
While fear is barking like a dog,
But I’m holding out my hand,
Still holding out my hands.
Chorus
Standing in the cold,
Looking at your soul.Words and music: Sarah Masen
© 2001 Dayspring Music, Inc.
From the album The Dreamlife of Angels, by Sarah Masen
