For *All* the Saints

This is a re-post of something I wrote two years ago. I started to write this story again today and then realized that I had, in fact, already written it.

This year, this is in memory of both Charlotte and Lindsey, who confirmed and strengthened me in the faith in the simple and quiet ways.

For all the saints who from their labors rest,
Who Thee by faith before the world confess,
Thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
- William W. How

Daily Prayer Resources

This is a set of resources for establishing a practice of daily prayer, especially morning and evening prayer.

The first section has prayers and prayer services. Many of them are written to be done communally but can also be done individually. The second section has resources for various elements of a prayer service, like readings or Prayers of the People.

The last two sections are more relevant to individual reading and prayer. The third section has suggestions for how to choose shorter texts to focus on, and the fourth section has suggestions for daily prayer focuses or short daily prayers.

Link Dump, Recent Reading: Early June 2016

A few links from what I was reading in late May and early June!

Jeremy Steele on hope and the UMC
Was beautiful, actually made me cry.

April Fiet's Trinity Sunday sermon about the difficulty of trying to understand the Trinity and the point of Trinity Sunday.
This. Just all of this. Love talking about the white paraments and looking directly into the sun. Love the focus on community and light. Love ending up talking about singing.

Morning and Evening Methodist Prayer
This delights me. I've been singing the Psalms with the Seedbed metrical psalter instead of just reading them, and some of the time I've used the Prayers of the People booklet I made a while ago to do the intercession bit of the prayer service. I also love that it incorporates Wesley hymns, most of which I've never seen before. (I do wish they came with tunes/suggestions for tunes, though. Sometimes I can figure out a reasonable meter to use, and sometimes it's much harder.)

O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing

Written for today's service at church, which was led by the graduating seniors.

I believe in singing our faith.

I believe in singing the Psalms, the ancient songs of anger, lament, and praise. In the Psalms we sing with David, sing with the Jewish people on the way to the festivals, sing with a people in exile. Sing with a people who know that God is still with them and God is still for them.

I believe in singing the songs that the church has raised together through history. ``Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might." ``Glory be to the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit." ``Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy."

I believe in singing the songs of the great hymn writers. Proclaiming God as a mighty fortress with Martin Luther. Rejoicing with God's saints with Fred Pratt Green. Believing in the promise of new life that God alone can see with Natalie Sleeth. Calling a thousand tongues to sing our Redeemer's praise with Charles Wesley. Being assured with Fanny Crosby that this is our story and our song.

I believe in singing the hymns that tell the old, old story of Jesus and his love. I believe in singing songs that work on us, that lead us back to God when we are lost, lead us to God as revealed in Scripture and God working in the world. In the times when I have most questioned the importance of Scripture, it was hymnody that helped me state my faith, hymnody that helped me grow, hymnody that brought me back to belief in the word of God as a firm foundation for faith. Even in our doubt -- especially in our doubt -- singing shapes us.

I believe in singing the songs of the seasons. I believe in singing the songs of a people waiting for a savior, of God Incarnate born to a young woman, of Jesus blessing, breaking, and giving bread. Songs of our mourning beneath the cross, our rejoicing at the empty tomb. Receiving the Holy Spirit. Being sent forth. And once again, waiting -- waiting for Christ who will come again.

I believe in singing the songs of the sacraments. I believe in singing songs of new life and baptism, recognizing that God claims us and that we are children of blessing and promise, proclaiming that children belong among us. I believe in singing songs of Christ welcoming us to God's table, of God meeting us in bread and cup, of being made one with Christ and one with each other.

I believe in singing as we work, singing as we wait, singing as we watch, singing through dim and bright.

I believe, above all of this, in singing the songs together. Building up each other's voices. Teaching each other to sing. Singing for each other when we falter.

We are bound together by Christ's death and resurrection. We are a thousand voices, but we are one Church. There is one bread, one Body, one Lord of all.


That is why we sing.

To Tell the Old, Old Story

I love to tell the story, 'twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and his love.

On the night of April 2nd, two friends and I held Easter vigil at school, starting at sunset and going a bit past sunrise on Easter morning. We were all exhausted by the end of Easter, but holding vigil was undoubtedly worth it. That's a night I'll remember for a long time -- more than eleven and a half hours of prayer, reading, singing, and discussion together. More than eleven and a half hours of telling the story.

Because that's what Easter vigil is about. It's about the story, the story that begins with the creation of the world, the story that tells of God delivering God's people time and time again, despite creation's seemingly constant apostasy. The story that leads to an empty tomb and Jesus, God incarnate, risen from the dead.

I love to tell the story of unseen things above,
of Jesus and his glory, of Jesus and his love.

We held a love feast as well, after all the Easter vigil readings except the gospel lesson. The love feast was a natural fit; it's also a service of reading, singing, and testimony, oriented around the breaking of bread. So after reading about God's salvation through history, we read about love and service and bread. We sang love as we had sung salvation. It seemed right, right to tell the story and then to explore why. Why God creates. Why God pursues, saves, over and over.

And then we were an hour and a half away from dawn. So we renewed our baptismal vows together, prayed and sang a litany of saints, and then reached what we had awaited all night: the reading from Luke, the story of the women and Peter finding an empty tomb, the story of "Why do you look for the living among the dead?"

He is not here, but has risen.

Christ is risen!
Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!

I love to tell the story, for those who know it best
Seem hungering and thirsting to hear it like the rest.
And when in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song
'Twill be the old, old story that I have loved so long.

Hungarian Hymns: Bless Me With Forgiveness

"Bless Me With Forgiveness" is a Hungarian hymn with words by Balassi Bálint, and I found it appropriate for Ash Wednesday. Full lyrics with English translation/interpretation are here (and all translations below are from this link). A video with three of the verses is below.

Tempting to Remain

Strengthened by this glimpse of glory,
Fearful lest our faith decline,
We like Peter find it tempting
To remain and build a shrine.
-- "We Have Come at Christ's Own Bidding," Carl P. Daw

This is my Transfiguration Sunday story.

Last spring semester was pretty hard on me. I had spent the previous fall in Budapest, and I had loved it. I'd taken five math classes and been part of a community of math students, had studied in cafes and restaurants, had walked the streets of the city in the mornings that smelled of bread and by the light of streetlamps in the night that came so early. I had also grown in faith during that semester, exploring a variety of topics and spending more time thinking about them than I had before. I was part of a more high church community than I previously had been, and I found great value in that.

And then I came back.

My Soul Doth Magnify the Lord

The Lectionary readings for today include Mary's song, the Magnificat. So here, have a few Magnificat, with a bit of a Hungarian bent:

Who Leads Us Into Life

Written for my college fellowship's weekly devotional

_______________________________________________

One week while I was abroad, I went to a Taizé-style worship service. I’d been to Taizé services in the US and expected to know a lot of the songs despite my very poor Hungarian. At the beginning, though, I recognized none of the music until people began singing this tune. The words they sang were in Hungarian, but I recognized them as the translation of the English lyrics I knew:

Bless the LORD, my soul, and bless God’s holy name.

Bless the LORD, my soul, who leads me into life.

Those two lines, based off the beginning of Psalm 103, still echo in my mind in moments of stillness. What does it look like for our souls to bless the Eternal God and God’s holy name? What does it mean that the LORD is leading us into life? With the Spirit’s help each day we can abide (1) more and more in Christ and in Christ’s relationship with the Father, and so we grow more and more in relationship with the One who redeems and creates, the source of all life, the One who does not treat us according to our sins but has mercy on us and distances us from our transgressions (2).

We pray. We read. We listen. We fast. We sing. We share bread and cup. And the “we” is essential; faith is not personal alone but also corporate. As the Trinity is in relationship, so should we be in relationship with each other. And through these things God’s grace works in us, entirely perfecting us and leading us into life, teaching our souls to bless the LORD in any language we speak.

Áldott légy Uram, szent neved áldja lelkem.

Áldott légy Uram, mert megváltottál már.

---

(1) John 15:4-5, Jesus speaking to his disciples at the Last Supper: “Remain in me, and I will remain in you. A branch can’t produce fruit by itself, but must remain in the vine. Likewise, you can’t produce fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, then you will produce much fruit. Without me, you can’t do anything.”

(2) Various bits of Psalm 103

And God's People Said: New England Annual Conference 2015, Part 3

Friday afternoon through evening at Annual Conference was probably my favorite part of all of AC. The business was pretty straightforward; what really stood out was the worship. The afternoon started with the Memorial Service, and we ended the day with the Service of Ordination and Commissioning.

Through Dim and Bright: New England Annual Conference, Part 2

Circle of hope, circle of light
Guiding our days, guarding our nights
Sustaining love, through dim and bright
Circle of hope

Friday was, for me, the most meaningful day of Annual Conference. The day started off with an incredible Bible study with Bishop Gregory Palmer, and there were three really powerful worship services, one of which I'll talk about in this post. However, there was also a lot of frustration and pain, particularly around the conversation about camping ministry.

With God's Help: New England Annual Conference 2015, Part 1

Listen to the word that God has spoken.
Listen to the One who is close at hand.
Listen to the voice that began creation.
Listen even if you don't understand.

This past week I attended my first Annual Conference. I'd been to an ordination service before and several years ago helped with childcare, but this was the first time I participated in the conferencing. I came in knowing that discernment, particularly discernment in the midst of politicking, can be hard, though I wasn't always prepared for exactly how hard and what form the problems took. At the same time, I wasn't fully prepared for the moments of great joy. This is the first of a few posts about how Conference went and what I took away from it.

God Brought Us Here

I gave the sermon at church this Sunday. When the minister asked me to preach, she asked me to talk about what I believe. The lectionary readings were 1 John 5:1-6 and John 15:9-17, and the opening hymn was "How Can We Name a Love." Based on all of that, this is (pretty close to) what I ended up saying. (Also posted on the church blog.)

Learn of Christ to Bear the Cross

One of my favorite Holy Week hymns (and I love a lot of them) is "Go to dark Gethsemane" by James Montgomery. At Tenebrae tonight we read from St. Augustine's treatise on the Psalms in which he writes about understanding the trials of the psalmist and joining the psalmist in those trials through prayer:"Let us now see under what evil he lies; and when he begins to speak, let us place ourselves beside him, that, by sharing his tribulation, we may also join in his prayer." That really reminded me of this hymn; the last line of each verse focuses on something we can learn from Christ in the experience of Holy Week.

Go to dark Gethsemane, 
ye that feel the tempter's power; 
your Redeemer's conflict see, 
watch with him one bitter hour. 
Turn not from his griefs away; 
learn of Jesus Christ to pray. 

When Christ went to pray, he told Peter, James, and John also to watch and pray that they would "not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." (Matthew 26:41) The disciples fell asleep time after time, but Jesus prayed and grieved through the weakness of the flesh. Christ did not sin, but he was tempted as one of us. One of the readings from the Letter to the Hebrews tonight emphasized this: "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin." (Hebrews 4:15)

Hungarian Hymns: Grant Me Tranquility

I spent last semester in Hungary, and I have a Hungarian hymnal, "Az Úrnak zengjen az ének." This hymn, "Adj már csendességet" by Balassi Bálint, is the first in the Lenten section of the hymnal. The title translates as "Grant me tranquility." Here's a video of the hymn:

During Lent, I've been singing the Psalms, and something I like about this hymn is that it feels very Psalm-like in topic and tone. It goes from lament about circumstances to mourning sin to trust in and praise of the Lord. Here are some of my favorite lines in both Hungarian and English (translation by Szirtes George):

Sok ideje immár, hogy lelkem szomjan  vár mentségére, 
Őrizd, ne hadd, ébreszd, haragod ne gerjeszd vesztségére! 

Through long years of penitence,

my spirit craved sustenance, desiring salvation;

Shield me and watch with me,

let not your enmity cause my damnation.

Nem kicsiny munkával, fiad halálával váltottál meg. 

Not without labour you saved me, my saviour, through death of your son.

Nem kell kételkednem, sőt jót reménlenem igéd szerint, 

Megadod kedvesen, mit ígérsz kegyesen hitem szerint.

Why should I doubt,

when despair is cast out in trust of your word;

Freely you’ll grant me

the grace not denied me, the faithful’s reward.

Repülvén áldjalak, élvén imádjalak vétek nélkül, 

Kit jól gyakorolván, haljak meg nyugodván, bú s kín nélkül!

Flying, I’d bless you,

adoring address you, my trespass defying,

Thus practiced in flight,

my soul being healed might I rise in my dying.

Taste and See the Grace Eternal

"All Who Hunger, Gather Gladly" is a communion hymn by Sylvia Dunstan. It's in The Faith We Sing, and I love its focus on community and grace.

All who hunger, gather gladly;
holy manna is our bread.
Come from wilderness and wandering.
Here, in truth, we will be fed.
You that yearn for days of fullness,
all around us is our food.
Taste and see the grace eternal.
Taste and see that God is good.

The Glory of These Forty Days

The United Methodist Hymnal doesn't have many Lent-specific hymns outside of the Holy Week section, which is a shame. "The Glory of These Forty Days" isn't in the UMH or any of the supplements, but it's in the Catholic Missal and the Hymnal 1982 (Episcopal).

The glory of these forty days
We celebrate with songs of praise;
For Christ, by Whom all things were made,
Himself has fasted and has prayed.

So often we don't think of Lent as a season of celebration or a time of glory. It's solemn and somber, a contrast to Easter following it. We bury alleluias during Lent! Nevertheless, though, a season of introspection and cleansing should be joyful. I'm reading through Mark, and I recently read the section in which Jesus tells the Pharisees that "The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath." Lent is a gift to us just as the Sabbath is. Lent is a time to look to the model of Christ, fully God and thus Creator, in fasting and prayer. As we seek to be renewed in God's image, we follow the example of God Incarnate.

Teach Us With Thee to Mourn Our Sins

"Lord, Who Throughout These Forty Days" by Claudia Hernaman is one of the few non-Holy Week hymns in the United Methodist Hymnal that is explicitly Lenten. It's commonly sung on Ash Wednesday or the first Sunday during Lent, but it's appropriate for the whole season.

Lord, who throughout these forty days

For us didst fast and pray,

Teach us with Thee to mourn our sins

And close by Thee to stay.

The first verse of this hymn is probably my favorite, and  "Teach us with Thee to mourn our sins" is without question my favorite line. The forty days of Lent mirror Christ's forty days in the wilderness, and so Lent should be for us a time of spiritual discipline as set forth in the Lord's example. Lent is a season of both penitence and reconciliation, and those require self-examination. But we don't observe Lent alone. It's not within our power to keep our Lenten disciplines alone! The point of Lent is our need for God's grace. Without God's grace we would not know what is sin, we would not be able to repent of sin, and we would not recognize in ourselves the image of God. We would not know God. Only by God's grace can we be cleansed, restored, and go on to perfect love.

Ashes to Ashes

I love "Sunday's Palms are Wednesday's Ashes" by Rae E. Whitney for a lot of reasons. It happens to be set to my favorite tune, but more than that, it perfectly expresses Ash Wednesday and, in many ways, Lent as a whole. It mirrors confessional prayers from Eucharist liturgies, but despite focusing on our failings, it always turns to forgiveness and hope.

Sunday's palms are Wednesday's ashes
As another Lent begins;
Thus we kneel before our Maker
In contrition for our sins.
We have marred baptismal pledges,
In rebellion, gone astray;
Now, returning, seek forgiveness;
Grant us pardon, Lord, this day!

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

We wave the fronds high and shout for joy. We sing loud hosannas and praise the King. If we did not cry out, the stones would do so in our place.

But Sunday's palms are Wednesday's ashes. The week that begins in a triumphal entry ends in darkness, a darkness that would become light, but a necessary darkness all the same.

Before Him Shall Peace, The Herald, Go

"Hail to the Lord's Anointed" by James Montgomery is more upbeat and joyful than a lot of Advent hymns. Advent may be a traditionally penitential season (even if we don't always consider it that way), but there is great joy in what we await.

Hail to the Lord's Anointed, 
great David's greater Son!  
Hail in the time appointed, 
his reign on earth begun!  
He comes to break oppression, 
to set the captive free; 
to take away transgression, 
and rule in equity.

We are not waiting just to wait. Christ does not come simply to come. Christ comes as the Promised One, the One who sets free, the King.  We look around and see oppression, wrong, and inequality, but because we await the One who sets all things right, we do not lose hope. We believe that the Lord's Anointed comes in the time appointed and reigns on earth and in heaven forevermore.

We light a candle for hope, and we hail the One who was and is and is to come.