[Your movement] is characterized by:

-a distrust of and an aggression against the conscience

-a profound hypocrisy that treats the wrongs of the enemy as capital crimes, and wrongs of the friend as “sinning on the side of the angels”

-an [...]]]> Today I read a most astute assesment of something those of you who know me will surely recognize:

[Your movement] is characterized by:

-a distrust of and an aggression against the conscience

-a profound hypocrisy that treats the wrongs of the enemy as capital crimes, and wrongs of the friend as “sinning on the side of the angels”

-an obsession with power and institutional intrigue expressed by what Tulga called “dominant and domineering personalities”

-an unrepentant factionalism

-a cultural apostasy resulting in an abandonment of traditional values and practices

This has been lightly edited for clearer presentation in this format and will, for the time being remain unattributed (apologies, NRW, should you happen across this).

The list above is bad. But that it’s a list is nearly moot. Number one is egregious enough that the rest becomes just litany.

I thought I had made peace with things the way they are. I thought I could stay and lend my paltry oar. But in light of these frank and, frankly, accurate points . . . I don’t know. This is not what I want. For me, my wife, my sons and daughter. Not when (as the context of the discussion in which these points were outlined demonstrated) staying would more likely lead us to something like this than this.

But where to go? Is it not foolish to run like Hagar from a culture of wrongs to an empty desert? Bitter water is still water.

I am still a child. I am
larger than nothing.

How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds In a believer’s ear! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear.

It makes the wounded spirit whole, And calms the troubled breast; ’Tis manna to the hungry soul, And to the weary, rest.

Dear Name, the Rock on [...]]]> In illustration of the (partial) criteria spelled out last post, I offer the following.

How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds
In a believer’s ear!
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.

It makes the wounded spirit whole,
And calms the troubled breast;
’Tis manna to the hungry soul,
And to the weary, rest.

Dear Name, the Rock on which I build,
My Shield and Hiding Place,
My never failing treasury, filled
With boundless stores of grace!

By Thee my prayers acceptance gain,
Although with sin defiled;
Satan accuses me in vain,
And I am owned a child.

Jesus! my Shepherd, Husband, Friend,
O Prophet, Priest and King,
My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End,
Accept the praise I bring.

Weak is the effort of my heart,
And cold my warmest thought;
But when I see Thee as Thou art,
I’ll praise Thee as I ought.

Till then I would Thy love proclaim
With every fleeting breath,
And may the music of Thy Name
Refresh my soul in death!

~John Newton

My prefered tune for this is Reinagle’s “St. Peter.” Although Dr. Ledgerwood did do a very nice setting when I was at college.

I know someone could (and some probably would) raise an objection over singing this old thing these days. But who could take such an objection seriously?

Q: What makes a hymn a hymn? Generally I think of hymns being “(usually old) songs in the hymnbook,” but you’ve gone and said this fellow is writing hymns all [...]]]> Subsequent to this post, I became embroiled involved in an email conversation which I present below (lightly edited for ease of reading and public consumption).

Q: What makes a hymn a hymn? Generally I think of hymns being “(usually old) songs in the hymnbook,” but you’ve gone and said this fellow is writing hymns all the time.

A: In my opinion, to qualify as a hymn a text must:

1. Be literary in quality and technique yet
2. express “praise” in generally accessible terms

The first ensures a true catholicity and durability. Just like the Odyssey will never be lost from our literary canon and is able to be appreciated by non-Greek speaking, non-Aphrodite believing folk, so “All Creatures of Our God and King” will continue (in my judgement) to be sung by Catholics and Protestants, nature lovers and shriveled capitalists alike until Jesus comes back. This is precisely why [the gospel song our friend mentioned] fails. One does not improve it by setting it to a tune other than the early 1900s parochial gospel tune to which it is normally sung. The words were written in a way that could only be appreciated to the fullest extent by a limited group of people, namely turn of the century revivalists. Anglicans and Catholics and Presbyterians of the time would have turned their noses up at it as an expression unworthy of the subject which fails to effectively communicate about that subject on those very aesthetic grounds.

The second element above ensures one need not be a professor of literature to stand in a congregation and sing a hymn in a heartfelt manner. Forgive the crass analogy, but they say that Hold ‘Em Poker is a game that takes 5 minutes to learn and a lifetime to master. Similarly a good hymn is reasonably understandable upon first reading/singing, but also yields further insights upon multiple recitations. Indeed, it will bear up under centuries of repetition (unlike that poem of mine I sent you the other day, which is of limited insight despite creative fulfillment of the form used, and thus can only be read so many times before no more reward be found in it).

Successful meeting of these two requirements is terribly difficult, and our best attempts today pale next to those of previous generations. Anyway, there’s my two cents.

Subsequent to that rather offhand and haphazard explanation, I was gratified to find this definition

…a lyric poem, reverently and devotionally conceived, which is designed to be sung and which expresses the worshiper’s attitude toward God or God’s purposes in human life. It should be simple and metrical in form, genuinely emotional, poetic and literary in style, spiritual in quality, and in its ideas so direct and so immediately apparent as to unify a congregation while singing it.

which is similar, but probably better. Thoughts?

Psalm 84

1. How amiable are thy tabernacles, O LORD of hosts! 2. My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the LORD: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God. 3. Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, [...]]]> In positive rebuttal to this sort of nonsense.

Psalm 84

1. How amiable are thy tabernacles, O LORD of hosts!
2. My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the LORD: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God.
3. Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O LORD of hosts, my King, and my God.
4. Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: they will be still praising thee. Selah.
5. Blessed is the man whose strength is in thee; in whose heart are the ways of them.
6. Who passing through the valley of Baca make it a well; the rain also filleth the pools.
7. They go from strength to strength, every one of them in Zion appeareth before God.
8. O LORD God of hosts, hear my prayer: give ear, O God of Jacob. Selah.
9. Behold, O God our shield, and look upon the face of thine anointed.
10. For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand. I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness.
11. For the LORD God is a sun and shield: the LORD will give grace and glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly.
12. O LORD of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee.

From the KJV for the sheer beauty.

My dad was a bus pastor (!) at a [...]]]> I think it was the confluence of the usual election year crud and more time recently spent thinking about my late father (and how much, for better and worse, I am like him) that brought this particular memory to mind. Anyway, it seemed fit to share.

My dad was a bus pastor (!) at a fundamentalist church in the 80′s, heyday of both conservativism, the religious right, and, for that matter, bus pastors. Tautology? Perhaps partially. Anyway, I believe it was the summer of 1988, when G.H.W. Bush was running against Dukakis, that the pastor of our then church thought it would be appropriate to spend each Sunday evening service for like a month holding a mock campaign and election.

My father was selected (by some mechanism I don’t quite recall, although it was likely related to him being good-looking and popular) as the conservative candidate. I can’t recall who the liberal was, poor shlub, but each Sunday night time was yielded, and they debated. I really don’t remember any specifics of this other than my father saying as an aside during one debate that he was even more conservative on abortion than Bush (likely to many amens), but I’m sure the liberal position was less than heartily defended.

Not that it would have mattered. At the end of the month, the election was held and the surrogate for conservatism won unanimously.

To this day I have no idea what the point of the whole exercise was. To push the congregants to vote a specific candidate? To create a small political world where this poor beleagured segment of fundamentalism could, in the face of “losing” Reagan, feel like they had complete control of the situation? Who knows. Oddly (and, perhaps, instructively), none of this seemed out of place to me at the time.

But whatever the pastor’s intent, the effect was that many of those congregants walked away from those services believeing something absolutely bizarre about what it meant to be a worshiper in the Church of Jesus Christ.

2. Verse [...]]]> 1. Jeri Massi posted a great article on the proper understanding and education of conscience that I heartily recommend. I think the heart of the matter as she describes it (without making the overt reference) is exactly what Paul meant by “take every thought captive to obey Christ” in 2 Cor. 10:5 (ESV).

2. Verse Wisconsin is a bit of a conundrum to me. According to Duotrope, they are among the most approachable poetry markets, publishing in the neighborhood of 40% of the work sent their way (nudgenudge, Joel), yet still managed to be respectably represented in the Pushcart Anthology. (By respectably I mean at all.) The source I saw, and cannot now find, showed the 2012 PC Anth. contained 6 or so poems from VW. Not bad. Another hint that quantity may be the hiding place of quality.

3. What is the proper balance between elder authority and congregational authority? All pontifications welcome.

4. Oh, I almost forgot. I have a poem in the 2013 Poet’s Calendar which is available soon/now(?). Hard to tell from the site, but I was told I’ll be getting my copy any day. 200 or so poems and 52 week calendar only $13.95. Think about it anyway.

None Other Lamb

None other Lamb, none other Name, None other hope in Heav’n or earth or sea, None other hiding place from guilt and shame, None beside Thee!

My faith burns low, [...]]]> This is one of my favorite Christina Rossetti poems. My wife and I occassionally sing the Craig Courtney setting in church. Oh, the longing.

None Other Lamb

None other Lamb, none other Name,
None other hope in Heav’n or earth or sea,
None other hiding place from guilt and shame,
None beside Thee!

My faith burns low, my hope burns low;
Only my heart’s desire cries out in me
By the deep thunder of its want and woe,
Cries out to Thee.

Lord, Thou art Life, though I be dead;
Love’s fire Thou art, however cold I be:
Nor Heav’n have I, nor place to lay my head,
Nor home, but Thee.

I have to believe reading it on a day that only exists once every four years makes it that much more fantastical.

Go check it out!