Friday, July 28, 2017

When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

His dying crimson, like a robe,
Spreads o’er His body on the tree;
Then I am dead to all the globe,
And all the globe is dead to me.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

--Isaac Watts (1674-1748),  English hymn writer and Noncomforming pastor, Hymn 474 in Hymnal 1982



Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Stopping by Starbucks on Summer Mornings doing Interim Youth Missioner Work


My bloodshot eyes have a red glow.
I think I know the antidote.
There is a Starbucks over here
And so to caffeinate I go.

My Mini seems to know to steer
Itself to a space standing near
The door held open by a gent
Who blearily tries to fake good cheer.


The barista looks up to make
"The usual?" she asks, and starts to shake
The Refresher that I will keep
Imbibing from 'til my lunch break.

This drink is lovely, slightly sweet,
But I have meetings still to keep
In which I must not fall asleep,
In which I must not fall asleep.

--L. B. S., July 25, 2017

Monday, July 24, 2017

Celtic House Blessing



God bless the corners of this house
And be the lintel blessed.
Bless the hearth, the table too
And bless each place of rest.
Bless each door that opens wide
To stranger, kith and kin;
Bless each shining window-pane
That lets the sunshine in.
Bless the roof-tree up above
Bless every solid wall.
The peace of Man, the peace of love,
The peace of God on all.

Sonnet 27 (Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed)

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body's work's expired:
For then my thoughts, from far where I abide,
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see
Save that my soul's imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
     Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
     For thee and for myself no quiet find.

--William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

Thursday, July 20, 2017

Burns' Supper

Oh you speak the words locked in my breast
But it's late for me, let an old man rest
One more black and tan on the barricade
To keep me safe from loving
When I close my eyes, close my eyes
To the cold flame of the Northern Lights
When I close my eyes, close my eyes
And I see you still in the shuttered night
What a new-found friend is honesty
To see ourselves as others see
To see the shy boy inside the man
Is that all I am? Just starved of loving

When I close my eyes, I close my eyes
To the cold flame of the Northern Lights
When I close my eyes, close my eyes
And I see you still in the shuttered night

--Richard Thompson, from the album "You? Me? Us?" 1996

Cover by Annie Savoy and Linda Ronstadt from the album "Adieu False Heart"



Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Irish blessing- for this day

May the raindrops fall lightly on your brow.
May the soft winds freshen your spirit.
May the sunshine brighten your heart.
May the burdens of the day
Rest lightly upon you,
And may God enfold you
In the mantle of God's love.

Lantana in the Bishop's Garden, Washington National Cathedral.



Friday, July 14, 2017

The First Spring Day


I wonder if the sap is stirring yet,
If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate,
If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun
And crocus fires are kindling one by one:
Sing, robin, sing:
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring.

I wonder if the springtide of this year
Will bring another Spring both lost and dear;
If heart and spirit will find out their Spring,
Or if the world alone will bud and sing:
Sing, hope, to me;
Sweet notes, my hope, soft notes for memory.

The sap will surely quicken soon or late,
The tardiest bird will twitter to a mate;
So Spring must dawn again with warmth and bloom,
Or in this world, or in the world to come:
Sing, voice of Spring,
Till I too blossom and rejoice and sing.

--Christina Rosetti (1830-1894)

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame (Sonnet V)

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel:
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter and confounds him there;
Sap cheque'd with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'ersnow'd and bareness every where:
Then, were not summer's distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it nor no remembrance what it was:
     But flowers distill'd though they with winter meet,
     Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.

-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616)



Monday, July 10, 2017

The Absorbeat



May the power of your love, Lord Christ,
fiery and sweet as honey,
so absorb our hearts
as to withdraw them from all that is under heaven.
Grant that we may be ready
to die for love of your love,
as you died for love of our love.
Amen.

--medieval prayer said by St. Francis

Sunday, July 9, 2017

Fidele's Dirge


Fear no more the heat o’ the sun
Nor the furious winter’s rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone and ta’en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o’ the great,
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finish’d joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!


--William Shakespeare (1564-1616), from Cymbeline, Act IV, Scene 2



Thursday, July 6, 2017

Prayer for Discipleship

Lord Jesus, as you still come to us, an eternal presence walking upon the moving waters of time, help us to recognize your aproach and come to you. Give us the faith and the courage to do things your way, even in these storm-tossed days when so many cry out for security or vengeance, or keep their mouths shut when they should speak. Help your people to be done with the old motivations, the sad, sin-scarred reactions of which we say, 'After all, it's only human nature, isn't it?' Let your Spirit lift us on to new levels of vision and forgiveness and trust, so that your church may show the world once again what it really means to be human.

In your name who are forever the Man of Nazareth and Son of the Living God, Jesus Christ our Lord.

-- Caryl Micklem and Roger Tomes, Prayer 119 from Contemporary Prayers for Church and School, 1975

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Traditional Irish blessing, expanded


Deep peace of the running wave to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
Deep peace of the shining stars to you,
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.
May the road rise to meet you;
May the wind be always at your back;
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
May the rains fall softly upon your fields.
Until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

Saturday, July 1, 2017

Jubilate (Psalm 100)


All the earth cries out with joy to you,
serving you with gladness;
coming before you, singing for joy.
You, Creator of all, are God.
You made us; we belong to you.
We are your people, the sheep of your flock.
We go within your gates giving thanks,
entering your courts with songs of praise.
We give thanks to you and bless your name,
Indeed how good you are, O God,
eternal in your merciful love.
You are faithful from age to age.

--from the Community of St. Francis Office Book