Then

An angel showed me the river of life-giving water,
sparkling like crystal, flowing from the throne of God
and of the Lamb down the middle of the street,
On either side of the river grew the tree of life
that produces fruit twelve times a year, once each month;
the leaves of the trees serve as medicine for the nations.
Nothing accursed will be found anymore.
The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it,
and his servants will worship him.
They will look upon his face, and his name will be on their foreheads.
Night will be no more, nor will they need light from lamp or sun,
for the Lord God shall give them light,
and they shall reign forever and ever.
Revelation 22:1-7

Then all the broken promises
and all the severed ties
will be restored with all that is,
where nothing ever dies.

And all that should be but is not
shall be forevermore,
and all that was and then was lost
to us us shall be restored.

The tree of life shall grow again
in orchards, rows on rows,
and Eden's gate be opened then
to everything that grows.

The flaming sword shall plow the ground
to open every grave,
and nothing cursed shall then be found
when all has been remade.

The bodies wedded to decay
shall taste the medicine
that was in Eden locked away,
and they shall live again.

Then all the broken will be healed,
the severed mended then,
and death to endless life shall yield—
but when, my God?  But when?

Painting of life tree in interoer of Shaki Khan palace, Azerbaijan NAtional Art Museum, Usta Gambar Garabagi By Urek Meniashvili – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=26760866

Lay Your Weapons Down

This is what Isaiah, son of Amoz,
saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem.
In days to come,
the mountain of the LORD’s house
shall be established as the highest mountain
and raised above the hills.
All nations shall stream toward it;
many peoples shall come and say:
“Come, let us climb the LORD’s mountain,
to the house of the God of Jacob,
that he may instruct us in his ways,
and we may walk in his paths.”
For from Zion shall go forth instruction,
and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem.
He shall judge between the nations,
and impose terms on many peoples.
They shall beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks;
one nation shall not raise the sword against another,
nor shall they train for war again.
O house of Jacob, come,
let us walk in the light of the Lord!
Isaiah 2:1-5

Come, lay your weapons down,
and plunge them in the soil.
The sword that was so sharp and proud
is humbled to our toil.
Now it shall plow the ground,
tear out the roots of war:
Prepare a place for seeds to sprout,
a harvest for our joy.

Unless the seed should fall
it would remain a seed,
but buried, it shall rise up tall,
a hundredfold to yield.
The scythe is at the stalk—
it once had been a spear—
come, now; the harvestmaster calls:
His day is drawing near!

Then let us climb at once
the mountain of the Lord,
and hand in hand declare a truce,
lay down the hungry sword.
Come, plow the fallow tombs
and let our roots take hold
to grow the grain our God shall use
to feed a hungry world!

Mosaic in the Beit Habad Gallery, Jerusalem, quoting Isaiah 2:4, with lion, spear and spade. By benito roveran from verona, Italia – IMG_4713, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=36487009

St. Cecilia’s Day

Let there be music in my heart:
O Spirit, sing in me
resounding notes of peace unmarred
by my cacophany.

You sing in groans; let me have words,
and I will wake the dawn
with all the wrens and mockingbirds
who sing to raise the sun.

With whippoorwill and nightingale
I'll sing at midnight, too.
Your song in terror does not fail,
then let me sing with you.

For oh! The world seems bleak indeed,
and oh! The night is long.
In discord, grant me harmony;
in sorrow, give me song.

And when at last the morning comes,
give me to sing still more
with all the world as horns and drums,
your mercy to adore!

And you—no dove, but meadowlark—
sing loud, and louder still
'til music overflows my heart
and all the world is filled!

Lefthand side folio 132v and righthand side folio 133r from the Book of hours by the Master(s) of Zweder van Culemborg Illuminations on the left folio 132v The full-page miniature shows St. Cecilia of Rome holding two birds The virgin martyr cecilia of rome; possible attributes: falcon, musical instruments, organ, wreath of roses and lilies (11HH(CECILIA)) Birds (+ animals as attributes) (25F3(+13)) – This media file is from the collections of the Koninklijke Bibliotheek, part of which is available on Wikimedia Commons., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=61225730

Christ, the King, Our Lord

For today’s feast of Christ the King, taken from the Collect:

Almighty, ever-living God,

whose will is to restore all things

in your beloved Son, the King of the universe,

grant, we pray,

that the whole creation, set free from slavery,

may render your majesty service

and ceaselessly proclaim your praise.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

God, for ever and ever.

Through him, all things created;
in him, all things restored;
with him, all elevated:
in Christ, the King, our Lord.

The first word ever spoken,
the last, resolving chord
forever scarred and broken
is Christ, the King, our Lord.

The notes forever echo,
resounding through the world;
the universe they beckon
to Christ, the King, our Lord.

Still wounded is the music,
yet beautiful the more,
transformed as God renews it
in Christ, the King, our Lord.

Then come and join the singing,
all voices in accord,
a new song ever ringing
to Christ, the King, our Lord.

O come, all you created;
all broken, be restored.
It's this that you were made for:
for Christ, the King, our Lord!

By Constantinople master – http://eib.xanthi.ilsp.gr/gr/icons.asp?cursort=iconTitle&selectFieldValue=&vpage=3, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=43212715 Picture 015

Come, Thief

For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief at night.
1 Thessalonians 5:2

I shut the doors left open,
lock them against the dark,
but locks can all be broken:
Come, thief, and wake my heart.

I thought my peace secure, then,
shut tight against the dark,
but still the doors creak open:
Come, thief, and wake my heart.

Too long has it been sleeping,
its shining lamps gone dark,
and shadows have come creeping:
Come, thief, and wake my heart.

My peace is merely silence;
my ease a blindfold dark;
my comfort numb to violence:
Come, thief, and wake my heart.

New flame in me enkindle
to pierce the heavy dark.
Your day let me remember:
Come, thief, and wake my heart.

To leave a life of hiding
and face in truth the dark;
to find a peace abiding:
Come, thief, and wake my heart.

Couvercle d’un coffret en ivoire d’éléphant portant la représentation du Christ en Majesté entre les quatre évangélistes. Cologne, première moitié du XIIIe s. Ivoire. By Anonymous – Marsyas 18:37, 6 March 2006 (UTC), CC BY 2.5, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=616980

The Day Is Coming In a Blaze

Lo, the day is coming, blazing like an oven,
when all the proud and all evildoers will be stubble,
and the day that is coming will set them on fire,
leaving them neither root nor branch,
says the LORD of hosts.
But for you who fear my name, there will arise
the sun of justice with its healing rays.
Malachi 3:19-20a

The day is coming in a blaze,
as sure as stars will turn;
the sun will rise with healing rays,
and oh! How we will burn!

Our lives will kindle into flames
the Spirit's breath will fan,
devouring all our varied shames,
and how the sparks will dance!

But some shall burn for cruel rage,
and some love shall ignite,
yet all shall know themselves unchanged
within the furnace bright.

Christ Jesus, I don't want to burn,
for life is hurt enough,
but if I must to cinders turn,
then let it be for love!

Let me not kindle hatred's fire
or take delight in pain.
Let not an unjust thirst for ire
consume my heart again!

But when it comes, that day of days,
O Christ, when you return
to set the waiting world ablaze,
for love, then, let me burn!

An outdoor wood fire By Fir0002 – Originally uploaded to the English Wikipedia here by the author, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=11904

We Wake At Night

Then they asked him,
“Teacher, when will this happen?
And what sign will there be when all these things are about to happen?”
He answered,
“See that you not be deceived,
for many will come in my name, saying,
‘I am he,’ and ‘The time has come.’
Do not follow them!
When you hear of wars and insurrections,
do not be terrified; for such things must happen first,
but it will not immediately be the end.”
Then he said to them,
“Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom.
There will be powerful earthquakes, famines, and plagues
from place to place;
and awesome sights and mighty signs will come from the sky.”
Luke 21:5-19

We wake at night and listen to the thunder,
the shattering of things we cannot mend.
We grieve for them, and through our tears we wonder
if this is the beginning of the end?

For we have heard of wars and insurrection
and seen the people fighting in the streets
who lifted hands and prayed for your protection
and fell beneath the victor's trampling feet.

Where are you now, when nation crushes nation?
When will you come, if not to end this fight?
What will you do to save your poor forsaken?
How will your justice ever set things right?

Is there a mercy, deeper than this violence,
that's making sense of everything we break?
Is there some purpose to your lasting silence
or limit to the sorrows we can take?

You tell me not to fear, but I am frightened
of all the earthquake, famine, drought, and plague,
at all the ways the belts are being tightened,
of all the anger boiling into rage.

How long can we hold on in this despairing
to hope we know is somewhere out of sight,
that one day you will come again repairing
the broken days descending into night?

Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, woodcut print from the Apocalypse of Albrecht Dürer (1497–1498), Staatliche Kunsthalle Karlsruhe – http://www.wga.hu/html/d/durer/2/12/2apocaly/index.html, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=95226

My Rivers Rise In You

My rivers rise in you
and run down to the sea.
From Zion, all my caverns through,
your rivers run in me?

They flow through every heart
from your unstinting source.
No pulse could ever beat apart
from your heart's beat, my Lord.

Then when my springs run dry,
they must be flowing still
unheard by ear, unseen by eye,
somewhere within your will.

My heart is beating yet;
then that must be enough—
enough with each inrushing breath
to tell me of your love.

But even so, I thirst.
I thirst for you, O God,
to feel at last the floodgates burst
and drench my droughted heart.

Then let the dams come down.
Let rivers greet the sea!
To water all my barren ground,
oh, flow again in me!

source de yammouné, Bekaa, Liban By fouad awada – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4488524

Accounting

When you tally gains and losses,
when you weigh us in the scales,
count the thieves upon their crosses,
your divine accounting fails.

Like a Prime Mathematician,
God, you know how it adds up:
Pennies here and there go missing
'til the whole scheme is corrupt.

All the numbers ought to balance,
credits given, credit owed.
We're all drawing on your bankdraft:
Just how long can this cash flow?

Like a squinting, tired accountant
took his reading glasses off,
you make hay with rows and columns,
and now nothing's adding up.

All we have, we had to finance,
borrowed from your great largesse.
When we take, we rob you blinder.
When will you cash in our chips?

Yet with ink you douse the pages,
cook the books beyond belief,
strike the debts of all the ages,
cheat yourself to pay the thief.

1892-1893 HFD Accountant book, which recorded the date that HFD became a paid fire department, March 1st 1893. By Jackin808 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=58609339

O God of All the Living

Jesus said to them,
“The children of this age marry and remarry;
but those who are deemed worthy to attain to the coming age
and to the resurrection of the dead
neither marry nor are given in marriage.
They can no longer die,
for they are like angels;
and they are the children of God
because they are the ones who will rise.
That the dead will rise
even Moses made known in the passage about the bush,
when he called out ‘Lord, ‘
the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob;
and he is not God of the dead, but of the living,
for to him all are alive.”
Luke 20:27-38

O God of all the living,
the unconsuming flame,
O saving and deliv'ring,
bring us to life again.

You drew us through the Red Sea;
now draw us through our death—
but who knows what we shall be
when you restore our breath?

From dust, to dust returning,
then dust is glorified;
not ash in your love's burning, 
but endless warmth and light.

But all our life is ashen,
from birth to our decay.
What shall we be, new-fashioned,
within your glorious day?

The bush ablaze yet growing,
its green shoots never burned:
So shall we stand adoring
within your love, O Lord.

And there shall be no sandals
on all that holy ground
where we shall burn like candles
that never shall burn out.

Moses and the burning bush. Painting from Dura-Europos synagogue, 3rd century CE By Anonymous – Own work → https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Moses_bush.jpg → http://realhistoryww.com/world_history/ancient/Misc/Jesus/Jesus.htm, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=34210760