(Psalm 23, a paraphrase)
(Psalm 23, a paraphrase)
Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it. Hebrews 2:1
When I was a young boy, my dad took me fishing on the lake near our home. Gathering all of our tackle and poles, we boarded a small boat one Saturday afternoon, pushed off from the wooden, creaking dock and rowed toward a series of small inlets near the western shore on the opposite side. (It was a 30-minute trip when the wind was with us.) In the gray/green of hidden, shadowed coves, “the big ones” lay gently moving in the cool stillness of the deep.
That was our goal. We knew where to go. We knew the way to get there, but there was just one challenge, a familiar challenge: Continue reading “Driftwood.”
O, Child of Peace, across this night,
Within our hearts is all made right.
The pow’r of sin is crumbling fast,
As we are freed from prisons past.
In darkness, cold, our hearts knew pain,
Forever deep, the crimson stain.
But kingdoms fall, our fears release.
For, You have come, O Child of Peace.
O, Newborn Gift, the Father’s Son,
Your presence here enfolds us, one.
Together, bound, we share the joy
You bring to earth as one, small boy.
For, since in love you’ll grow to be
Your Father’s Lamb because of me,
Your mercy rich will make me new:
A son of God because of You.
From star to star in heaven’s space
A song rings out: a song of grace.
Your music starts where sin begins.
It wakes the dead and never ends.
Our silent lives have never heard
Until tonight this healing Word.
O, may this music never cease!
Sing on, O Son, my Prince of Peace.
But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life. The saying is trustworthy, and I want you to insist on these things, so that those who have believed in God may be careful to devote themselves to good works. These things are excellent and profitable for people. Titus 3:4-8 (emphasis mine.)
As a dad with three man-sons, my wife and I have to insist on certain kinds of behavior from them: “Stop jumping on the bed; slow down; wash behind your ears; tell the truth; leave the frog in the pond; say you’re sorry; go to sleep; drink your milk; say your prayers; stop and think . . . ,” all with varying degrees of compliance.
Why do we do that? Continue reading “Next.”
“. . . and it was the duty of the trumpeters and singers to make themselves heard in unison in praise and thanksgiving to the Lord . . .” 2 Chronicles 5:13
Solomon has just completed the construction of Israel’s first, permanent temple. This passage is one sentence from many that describe the grateful king’s dedication ceremony. As a musician, I notice passages like this, and they stop me in my tracks. In this scene, there were 120 priests participating, each with a trumpet. That’s an impressive ensemble if only for scale, but what stuns me here is not the size of the group but what they were doing: they are playing in unison – all together – same notes, same rhythms, same volume. They are one.
How did they do that? Continue reading “Unison.”
A yellow light in a bluer night
Holding the home inside:
A signal out that all are in-
Save one who, journeying, tried
To beat the sun in its setting down,
-To cross the countryside.
Tune, rare hope to each of life’s swift chords,
Played softly in wind,
Played surely in stars.
This glowing orb, securely set
Within the heavens, shining. Yet,
From distances beyond the deep,
Like Frost, with promises to keep,
A body comes to veil its ray,
Deception spread: a shorter day,
To cast in doubt the afternoon,
In twilight set the night too soon.
“If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them.” John 13:17
When I was a boy, I had a monthly subscription to the magazine, Sports Afield. It was an awesome magazine, full of colorful pictures of wide-eyed, antlered deer in deep woods, huge bass splashing on a line a foot above the rippled surface of a country pond, profiles of tough men telling dangerous hunting stories. I loved their daring journeys through desolate mountain passes. As I read these articles and saw these pictures, I was transformed into a great hunter/fisherman/outdoor expert. I loved it. Among the courageous, I was one of them. This was my personal catelogue of adventure.
There was just one problem: I didn’t actually do any of it. Continue reading “Vicarious.”