Come All Whose Hearts

Thus says the LORD:
Say to those whose hearts are frightened:
Be strong, fear not!
Here is your God,
he comes with vindication;
with divine recompense
he comes to save you.
Then will the eyes of the blind be opened,
the ears of the deaf be cleared;
then will the lame leap like a stag,
then the tongue of the mute will sing.
Streams will burst forth in the desert,
and rivers in the steppe.
The burning sands will become pools,
and the thirsty ground, springs of water.
—Isaiah 35:4-7a

Come all whose hearts are frightened
and blinded by their tears,
for Christ the dawn arising
like day is drawing near,
and you who sit within the dark
will see, at last, the brightest spark.

Come all whose hearts are muted
by this world's angry noise,
for Christ, in our confusion,
speaks out, a still, small voice.
You've kept your silence for so long,
but you will raise the joyful song.

Come all whose hearts are burning,
are withered in their drought,
for Christ, our deepest yearning,
splits heaven and pours down.
The living water, gentle rain,
will bring you back to life again.

Come all whose hearts are broken—
though no step can you make—
for Christ, the Word, is spoken
and meets you on the way.
He makes our brokenness his own,
and all the wounded shall be whole.

Desna river, feeder of the Southern Bug, at dawn. Ukraine, Vinnytsia Raion By George Chernilevsky – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=82439234

Hold Fast

O God, who made the mountains firm,
the earth not to be moved,
when we are shaken by the storm,
oh, shelter us in you.

The mountains bow to winds above;
the hills wear down at last.
Help us to hold fast to the love
that always holds us fast.

The seas that held beneath your feet
or stood as walls of waves,
are rising up now, swift and steep,
to carry us away.

Upon their peaks or in their depths
or swallowed by the whale:
Wherever we shall find ourselves,
your love will find us there.

What mother could forsake her child
or father could forget?
But if they did, our hopes, our lives,
would be in your hands yet.

Though we may walk through fire and flood,
through want and pain and fear,
oh, let us hold fast to your love
and find you ever near!

Mount Everest, Earth’s highest mountain By I, Luca Galuzzi, CC BY-SA 2.5, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1810976

Showing

Amid our doubt and fear,
our loss of hope and trust,
amid our sorrows, you appear
and breathe your peace on us.

But we cannot receive
the peace that you would give
until somehow we can believe.
Lord, show us that you live!

For we have seen you die,
and death we know too well,
but if the dead can truly rise,
then raise us like yourself!

Give back the hope we lost,
as we lost Eden's dream:
not earthly hope, but hope transformed,
and every loss redeemed.

And you give us this grace,
untroubled by our tears.
You come to meet us face to face,
to calm us in our fears:

the breaking of the bread,
the showing of your wounds,
the feeling of your hands and breath,
and our lives are made new.

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas by Caravaggio (1601–02) – http://www.christusrex.org/www2/art/images/carav10.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6804893

Comfort

Comfort, give comfort to my people,
says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her
that her service is at an end,
her guilt is expiated;
indeed, she has received from the hand of the LORD
double for all her sins.
A voice cries out:
In the desert prepare the way of the LORD!
Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!
Every valley shall be filled in,
every mountain and hill shall be made low;
the rugged land shall be made a plain,
the rough country, a broad valley.
Then the glory of the LORD shall be revealed,
and all people shall see it together;
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.
Isaiah 40:1-5

We dwell within a shadow here

beneath the wings of death

and feel it ever drawing near,

as close as every breath.



Yet do we hear a voice cry out,

“Take comfort, says your God!”

Come, then, into this fear and doubt;

give comfort to our hearts.



For we have seen the mountains fall

and crumble to the dust,

and wondered if you hear us call,

if you will come to us.



We've seen the valleys quake and split

and thrust into the sky.

And does it move you where you sit?

And do you hear us cry?



Then why do you stay so far off?

Why do you stand apart,

not tear the heavens with the earth

and come to us, O God?



But see! A light begins to pierce

the cloud that covers us.

And can it be that hope draws near,

that comfort comes to us?

The Creation of Light by Gustave Doré – Bible by Doré, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=298147

When

When my eyes are dim with weeping
and my heart is drowned in tears
for the record I am keeping
of the locust-eaten years,
when I wonder if you're sleeping
while I'm crying out my fears,
let your kindly light coem creeping
and your mercy find me here.

When I can't hear any answers
to the questions that I pray,
when I can't see any pattern
to the chaos of my days,
give me ears to hear the laughter
of your living spring at play;
give me eyes to see the manna
you have scattered in my way.

Though the dreams that I have wanted
may be always out of reach
and the heart I try to soften
may be granite underneath,
though the road that we are walking
leads us straight to Calvary,
let me trust that it runs onward
and that you still walk with me.

Hortus sanitatis, Mainz 1491. Woodcut showing manna By Unknown author – Hortus Sanitatis. Mainz, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=82935525

Help My Unbelief

Then he questioned his father,
“How long has this been happening to him?”
He replied, “Since childhood.
It has often thrown him into fire and into water to kill him.
But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.”
Jesus said to him,
“‘If you can!’ Everything is possible to one who has faith.”
Then the boy’s father cried out, “I do believe, help my unbelief!”
Mark 9:14-29

To the tune FINLANDIA:

And do you see my weary tears in torrent?
My light is drowned beneath the seas I weep.
I cannot raise my eyes to see your morning;
they are held down by all the weight of grief.
But still I cry, my heart and soul imploring:
Lord, I believe!  Oh, help my unbelief!

For you alone can heal the wounds I bury,
the sins I hide, the pain that no one sees;
and you alone can lift the cross I carry
and lift me, too, from here upon my knees—
but give me strength to hold you through my terror:
Lord, I believe!  Oh, help my unbelief!

When days of drought have left me dry and thirsty,
the manna's gone and there is naught to eat,
send down the rain to cool my desert's burning;
send signs of hope to grant me some relief.
But more than all, my Savior, send me mercy!
Lord, I believe!  Oh, help my unbelief!

Follower of Filippo Brunelleschi and Masaccio, Christ Healing the Possessed Boy, c. 1450-1460, NGA 43901 – This file was donated to Wikimedia Commons as part of a project by the National Gallery of Art. Please see the Gallery’s Open Access Policy., CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=80588858

Upon Your Rock

Based on Psalm 61, though I actually used this translation (Psalm 61 is on page 102):

Lord, set me high upon the rock,
too high for me to reach,
where overhead the vultures flock,
and jackals underneath.
Yet in the shadows here I rest;
dust devils touch me not.
An infant at a mother's breast
am I upon your rock.

I called you, and you heard my cry,
when I was lost in fear.
You came to me in dead of night
and quickly drew me near
that I might rest beside my God
and hide beneath your wings.
Now I will stay upon your rock,
your name forever sing.

Then let fear come upon me now;
let enemies draw night:
I still will pay my every vow
to you, who hears my cry.
Let death itself creep underneath
the shadow of your wing,
it will but join me here in peace
and with my spirit sing.

Two jackals standing near their lair outside a village. Coloured etching. Iconographic Collections By https://wellcomeimages.org/indexplus/obf_images/a1/0e/f2ca4a8edc8cbf210b39f4aa2080.jpgGallery: https://wellcomeimages.org/indexplus/image/V0022887.htmlWellcome Collection gallery (2018-04-06): https://wellcomecollection.org/works/w4eshqbt CC-BY-4.0, CC BY 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=36556782

Drive Away the Night

Jesus said to his disciples:
“In those days after that tribulation
the sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
and the stars will be falling from the sky,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.
And then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in the clouds’
with great power and glory,
and then he will send out the angels
and gather his elect from the four winds,
from the end of the earth to the end of the sky.”
Mark 13:24-31

The sun itself has darkened;
the moon gives no more light.
Our every fear has sharpened,
but nowhere can we hide.

The night still grows yet deeper;
the stars themselves fall down,
and over all, our weeping
is now the only sound.

All this is merely midnight!
There is no sign of day,
no hint at all of dawnlight
to drive the dark away.

But there shall be no warning,
no whispers of that hour
'til suddenly the dawning
fills heaven with its power!

When shall we see that glory
and know at last that light?
O sun of justice, show us,
and break upon our sight!

Then weeping turns to dancing,
and all our sorrows cease:
Our armies stop advancing,
and we at last have peace!

O Son of God, come quickly
and fill the earth with light!
O Son of Man, come heal us
and drive away the night!

*The Last Judgement*. The Louvre. By Jean Cousin the Younger, also called Jehan Cousin Le Jeune (lived c. 1522–1595). – Blunt, Anthony. Art and Architecture in France: 1500–1700. New Haven (CT): Yale University Press, [1957] 1999 edition. ISBN 0300077483. Page 99., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2874303

Lead Me To Your Rest

Come, the night is nearing;
all my days fly west.
I have long been weary,
striving to be blessed.
Gentle stars appearing
show a road unguessed:
Come, O Lord, draw near me;
lead me to your rest.

Come and take my fearing,
take my anxious breath.
Lay the balm of healing
where I long have bled.
Come, new lights revealing
though the sun has fled.
Come, O Lord, draw near me;
lead me to your rest.

Come, on dark ways stealing,
guide my searching steps.
Though I'm stumbling, reeling,
walk beside me yet.
With your mercy seal me;
touch my heart and head.
Come, O Lord, draw near me;
lead me to your rest.

Good shepherd. Russian icon, 19 c. Niederland, private collection By anonimous – http://www.cirota.ru/forum/view.php?subj=47937&order=&pg=1, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4516161

Walk With Me

David Lee set this to music; you can find a PDF and MP3 here.

You, who walked the city streets and highways,
you, whose feet were covered in their dust,
walk with me through all my twisted byways;
take with me the steps I know I must.

You had not the shelter of the foxes;
you had not the comfort of the nest:
Walk with me the roads that lead through darkness;
be for me my shelter and my rest.

Word of God, that dwelt untouched above me,
Jesus, sinking in the mud of flesh,
walk with me and let me feel you love me.
Touch me still and fill my every breath.

You, who walked the valley of the shadow,
every step along the vale of tears,
walk with me and make this journey hallowed
through the darkened garden of my fears.

Son of God and image of the Father,
Christ Incarnate, wrapped in flesh and blood,
walk with me 'til I can walk no further.
Guide me by your never-ending love.