Wednesday, April 18, 2007
In the Darkness
In the darkness,
Be thou our light,
Lord of the Universe.
When the red anger
washes over us in a midnight sea,
Breathe upon our souls
like you did upon the deep
so long ago,
rekindling in us that light
that only comes from you.
When the midnight shatters us
in its long, unending blackness,
Be our beacon,
breathing hope,
your life, into our aching bodies,
your perfect assurance
that the dawn will come.
When grief weighs us down,
remind us of that one morning long ago,
when you shattered the chains of the pit
opening wide the door,
and with your own touch,
lead us through that door
and into your joy.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Be thou our light,
Lord of the Universe.
When the red anger
washes over us in a midnight sea,
Breathe upon our souls
like you did upon the deep
so long ago,
rekindling in us that light
that only comes from you.
When the midnight shatters us
in its long, unending blackness,
Be our beacon,
breathing hope,
your life, into our aching bodies,
your perfect assurance
that the dawn will come.
When grief weighs us down,
remind us of that one morning long ago,
when you shattered the chains of the pit
opening wide the door,
and with your own touch,
lead us through that door
and into your joy.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: Hope, Need for God
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Hope
So much hope heaped on his shoulders,
this one lone carpenter turned rabbi from the north --
look at those who followed him, coming forth
out of a night of terror and day of grief.
Political assassination in the courts
scattered most who ran away.
A few stood solid that hard day,
Mother, aunt, a single thief,
one young friend beneath his bloody cross,
women who cared wailing their loss
Two politicians who chose to believe.
How white the shroud they provided, how dark the tomb.
And then they went with heavy hearts back to that upper room
Nowhere else to go when Sabbath evening fell,
Nowhere else to grieve.
Look at those who followed him coming forth
with whispered words of hope after the dark of Sabbath night
Whispered words of hope about an angel standing very white,
a cast off shroud upon the ground, an empty tomb.
"Did you talk to her?" they asked. "Did you see Peter's face?"
Another described how John and Peter ran into that place,
Hope breathed in the midst of them to breathe out across the world
As He stood there in the room.
So many years later, hope is heaped across His shoulders still --
Lord Jesus, if you will,
Fill me with your light
Against the hopelessness of endless night.
this one lone carpenter turned rabbi from the north --
look at those who followed him, coming forth
out of a night of terror and day of grief.
Political assassination in the courts
scattered most who ran away.
A few stood solid that hard day,
Mother, aunt, a single thief,
one young friend beneath his bloody cross,
women who cared wailing their loss
Two politicians who chose to believe.
How white the shroud they provided, how dark the tomb.
And then they went with heavy hearts back to that upper room
Nowhere else to go when Sabbath evening fell,
Nowhere else to grieve.
Look at those who followed him coming forth
with whispered words of hope after the dark of Sabbath night
Whispered words of hope about an angel standing very white,
a cast off shroud upon the ground, an empty tomb.
"Did you talk to her?" they asked. "Did you see Peter's face?"
Another described how John and Peter ran into that place,
Hope breathed in the midst of them to breathe out across the world
As He stood there in the room.
So many years later, hope is heaped across His shoulders still --
Lord Jesus, if you will,
Fill me with your light
Against the hopelessness of endless night.
Labels: Hope, Passion of Christ
Sunday, February 11, 2007
In Hac Fide, In Hac Spe, In Hac Caritáte
In hac fide, in hac spe, in hac caritáte:
In this faith, a faith whose seeds you planted in my heart, O loving Lord,
let me take my stand forever,
let it shape my life, day by day, in darkness or light,
until at last I stand where that faith is sight,
stripped of all my night.
In this hope, a hope you breathe into hot fire by the touch of your Spirit, O Lord,
let me take my comfort forever,
let it breathe your peace into my steps, day by day, in darkness or light,
until at last I stand, where my hope is proved real,
pure joy in your sight.
In this love, a love you offered by your death, hard and hot, O Lord of my life,
let me take my shelter forever,
let me, so well loved, share that love, day by day, in darkness or light
Until at last I stand, where my love is fulfilled,
dressed in your wedding robe of sparkling white.
In hac fide, in hac spe, in hac caritáte, vívere et mori státuo! Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
In this faith, a faith whose seeds you planted in my heart, O loving Lord,
let me take my stand forever,
let it shape my life, day by day, in darkness or light,
until at last I stand where that faith is sight,
stripped of all my night.
In this hope, a hope you breathe into hot fire by the touch of your Spirit, O Lord,
let me take my comfort forever,
let it breathe your peace into my steps, day by day, in darkness or light,
until at last I stand, where my hope is proved real,
pure joy in your sight.
In this love, a love you offered by your death, hard and hot, O Lord of my life,
let me take my shelter forever,
let me, so well loved, share that love, day by day, in darkness or light
Until at last I stand, where my love is fulfilled,
dressed in your wedding robe of sparkling white.
In hac fide, in hac spe, in hac caritáte, vívere et mori státuo! Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: Hope, Loving God, Praise and Thanksgiving
Friday, May 19, 2006
From Darkness, Light
Who looking would have expected hope to be born
that night of agonizing prayer under the olives,
sweat like blood falling in the spring moon light,
and a will that said not mine but yours.
Hope seemed to flee
when asking for the the price of a cheap slave
one of his own offered to make fellowship's kiss
turn into a betrayal,
backed by guards and swords and hate.
Did His followers hope against hope
that morning during an unjust trial,
where He stood, whipped and bloody,
a sacrifice of one for the many,
while a cynical judge gave Him up to prevent a riot
and a bad report back home.
Did any know that hope, while He in the grip of torture,
gave His back to the scourge,
His hands to the nails,
His body to the scorn,
hung high for all who came into the city to see,
He who gave up all, a perfect sacrifice,
as the temple veil was torn.
Hope glimmered in fear and amazement, though
as women crept out at dawn
to find a rolled-away stone
an empty tomb,
a discarded shroud,
a rolled-up napkin,
a missing body.
Hope spilled into concrete reality
as a weeping woman looked up
at the person who spoke her name.
Hope
coming down from Heaven,
the unexpected gift
to an undeserving world.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
that night of agonizing prayer under the olives,
sweat like blood falling in the spring moon light,
and a will that said not mine but yours.
Hope seemed to flee
when asking for the the price of a cheap slave
one of his own offered to make fellowship's kiss
turn into a betrayal,
backed by guards and swords and hate.
Did His followers hope against hope
that morning during an unjust trial,
where He stood, whipped and bloody,
a sacrifice of one for the many,
while a cynical judge gave Him up to prevent a riot
and a bad report back home.
Did any know that hope, while He in the grip of torture,
gave His back to the scourge,
His hands to the nails,
His body to the scorn,
hung high for all who came into the city to see,
He who gave up all, a perfect sacrifice,
as the temple veil was torn.
Hope glimmered in fear and amazement, though
as women crept out at dawn
to find a rolled-away stone
an empty tomb,
a discarded shroud,
a rolled-up napkin,
a missing body.
Hope spilled into concrete reality
as a weeping woman looked up
at the person who spoke her name.
Hope
coming down from Heaven,
the unexpected gift
to an undeserving world.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Labels: Hope, Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ
Thursday, May 11, 2006
The Pilgrim's Journey Home
The sun sinks low near the end of the day
As my weary back bends beneath its load.
My mind is filled with sweet thoughts of home
That waits for me at the end of the road.
At times each step seems so hard to take,
My hands do shake and my knees grow weak,
Yet far ahead the road leads on,
To the place I go, to the home I seek.
Some may think that I walk in vain,
Step after step on this pilgrim's way,
They think me foolish for what I do,
Glance while I pass, and then turn away.
And yet they wonder where comes the strength
To love when others would choose to hate,
To ease the pain of another's load,
To try when others curse their fate.
It is not I who can do this thing,
It is not I who is strong, you see --
The joy, the peace, the strength within
To take each step, it is not me.
It only looks like I walk alone,
Another carries me along the way.
He gave his life to set me free
And brings me home at the end of the day.
O Jesus, you whisper into my heart
The words of life that set me free,
Your arms are strength where I am weak,
When I fall down you carry me.
And though the valley ahead seems dark,
O Good Shepherd you comfort me,
It will be but the pathway home,
And where you lead, I long to be.
To the Tune of Lord Franklin.
(midi of the tune can be found here:
http://www.wtv-zone.com/phyrst/audio/nfld/midis7/franklin.mid)
As my weary back bends beneath its load.
My mind is filled with sweet thoughts of home
That waits for me at the end of the road.
At times each step seems so hard to take,
My hands do shake and my knees grow weak,
Yet far ahead the road leads on,
To the place I go, to the home I seek.
Some may think that I walk in vain,
Step after step on this pilgrim's way,
They think me foolish for what I do,
Glance while I pass, and then turn away.
And yet they wonder where comes the strength
To love when others would choose to hate,
To ease the pain of another's load,
To try when others curse their fate.
It is not I who can do this thing,
It is not I who is strong, you see --
The joy, the peace, the strength within
To take each step, it is not me.
It only looks like I walk alone,
Another carries me along the way.
He gave his life to set me free
And brings me home at the end of the day.
O Jesus, you whisper into my heart
The words of life that set me free,
Your arms are strength where I am weak,
When I fall down you carry me.
And though the valley ahead seems dark,
O Good Shepherd you comfort me,
It will be but the pathway home,
And where you lead, I long to be.
To the Tune of Lord Franklin.
(midi of the tune can be found here:
http://www.wtv-zone.com/phyrst/audio/nfld/midis7/franklin.mid)
Labels: Discipleship, God Our Shelter, Hope, In the Valley of the Shadow
