Baking Bread

I have heard the earth is burning;
I can hear the tocsin ring,
but the planet still is turning—
I will see what morning brings.
For the hearth still needs its tending;
mouths are crying to be fed.
Yes, I know the world is ending,
so I stand here baking bread.

I have heard the fear that whispers,
heard the whispers turn to shouts.
I have offered no resistance
to the wisdom of my doubts.
But some other voice is calling
in the watches of the night,
saying, “Yes, the Temple's falling:
Will you offer me your mite?”

Should I so, O Christ my savior?
What I have is not enough,
but the little I can make here,
I will give the world in love.
For like Martha in her kitchen
and like Mary at your feet,
though my quiet work is hidden,
it is needed: Come and eat.

Johannes Vermeer Christ in the House of Martha and Mary, 1655 By Johannes Vermeer – fwE2zem7WDcSlA — Google Arts & Culture, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=21865869

Broken World

Riffing on Psalm 46:

The waters rage and riot;
their rampage fills the sky,
and all we know of quiet
is but the cyclone's eye.
The mountains quake in terror—
then how shall we not fear?
Our broken world's repairer,
why do you not draw near?

And if we have offended,
done evil in your sight,
oh, can it not be mended?
Can nothing be put right?
Remember, Lord, the deluge,
your promise to all things:
Come make for us a refuge
beneath your outspread wings.

Come fill our thirst and hunger;
lift up the lost and poor,
then work a greater wonder
and still the rage of war.
Our strength and our salvation,
our rescue in distress,
though mountain fall and nation,
draw near, draw near to us.

Thunderstorm near Pritzerbe (Germany) By Mathias Krumbholz – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=26118676SONY DSC

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

Whatever

We hear the trumpet stirring, Lord,
the long crescendo of the drums.
If there is peace or there is war,
still, bless us in whatever comes.

So long we have been hot and cold
that now we've just gone mostly numb.
Our hands feel not, and nothing hold,
but bless us in whatever comes.

The tongues that clamored all ran dry;
they've spent their noise and fallen dumb,
so who is left to lift the cry,
“Oh, bless us in whatever comes”?

For it will take us by the hair
and play our nerves like catgut strummed
whether we do or do not dare.
Lord, bless us in whatever comes.

And let it, when it's had its day
to foul the feast and leave us crumbs,
pass over and be on its way.
Oh, bless us in whatever comes.

Though time will ride us o'er rough-shod,
it goes back where it first came from.
You gather it and us, O God,
and bless us in whatever comes.

Screenshot of the film The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) in which Doris Day performs the song Que Sera, Sera. By Paramount Pictures – Trailer of The Man Who Knew Too Much., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=65534401

Waves

I was not there to watch you shut
the sea within its doors,
to see you lift the mountains up
and bind the earth with shores,
but I have seen the ocean swells
rise up and break and fall,
that something of your mercy tells
beneath the gull's wild call.

For we are past the solstice now,
and summer's hold must break
though cruelty will have its hour
and Pharaoh holds his sway.
They rise and grow; they crash and sink
like waves upon the shore.
There is a time for everything—
so peace will come once more.

You set the limits of the sea
and you can part its waves,
just as you set the pris'ners free
and open up our graves.
You cast the mighty from their thrones
to crash upon the sands:
Though now we walk through waves unknown,
we still are in your hands.

Breaking wave in Porto Covo, Portugal By Alvesgaspar – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=36434062

Guide

Where is the one who divided the waters before them—

winning for himself an everlasting renown—

Who guided them through the depths,

like horses in open country?

As cattle going down into the valley,

they did not stumble.
—Isaiah 63:12-14

You led your people through the waves,
your children through the depths
like horses on the open plain
who run for joy itself.
Then lead me as your led the herd—
oh, let me stumble not!—
by light and dark, by breath and word,
through death to life, O God!

And when you lead me through the depths
and chasms of my fear,
not only lead but draw my steps
and walk forever near,
that in the night of my abyss
I shall not want for light,
but as in all things so in this,
I find you still my guide.

So if I cannot see the way,
your mercy's flame still burns.
Though I am dark, yet there is day,
and always it returns.
I trust these dark and fearsome deeps 
are open to your sight,
then if you will my journey keep,
I'll run on through the night.

Wild Horses on the Range By Bureau of Land Management – http://www.wildhorseandburro.blm.gov/photo_gallery/photo81.htm, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4746172

Insomnia

What if morning breaks open before I find rest?

What if all of the stars leave my skies?

What if I can't be more than this nothing my best?

What if sleep never touches my eyes?



What if all that I do gets me naught in the end?

What if God never hears when I call?

What if everyone breaks because I couldn't bend?

What if no one is there when I fall?



What if all my security rests on a proof?

What if proof is a thing that's not given?

What if nobody lowers me down through the roof?

What if none of my sins are forgiven?



What if nothing I do can bring peace to my heart?

What if there is no end to my fear?

What if all my tomorrows are doomed from the start?

What if even then you are still near?

Tacuina sanitatis (XIV century) 3-aspetti di vita quotidiana, insonnia, Taccuino Sanitatis, By unknown master – book scan, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1638868

Allwheres

It is the LORD who goes before you; he will be with you and will never fail you or forsake you. So do not fear or be dismayed.
Deuteronomy 31:8

Through all the days that lie ahead
and all the nights when dawn's unsure,
along the ways laid for your steps,
remember that he walks with you.

Though cliffs rise up on every side
and mountains tumble to the sea,
yet go, for still your guard and guide
is with you, when all others flee.

With every step that you may take,
his heavens on their axis spin;
encircling you, asleep, awake,
without beginning, without end.

Awake, asleep, astray, at home:
it is his road before your feet,
and you will not step out alone.
At every turn, it's him you meet.

So go, and even when you fear,
you still are somewhere in his palm,
and every step, away or near,
allwheres you go, to him you come.

A paved Roman road in Pompeii By Paul Vlaar – http://www.neep.net/photo/italy/show.php?3390, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=173413

In the Furnace

Based on the story from the book of Daniel:

When my sudden doubt has cast me
in the furnace of my fears,
Son of God, O stand there with me
where the fires rage and sear!
Give me courage in the burning
not to run or douse the flame,
but to take it as an off'ring 
for the glory of your name.

In your kindness and your mercy,
Son of God, deliver me:
Stand beside me in the furnace
'til the flames lie down in sleep.
Let me see you in this wonder
where I'm burned but not consumed.
Though the furnace roars like thunder,
let me sing a hymn to you:

I am standing in your presence
in the crucible of fear,
and you make the flames your temple
when you stand beside me here.
Sun and moon, sing praise forever!
Stars of fire, bless the Lord!
Though the flames reach up to heaven,
Here my peace has been restored!

Fiery furnace by Toros Roslin, Mashtots, 1266 (MS No. 2027, Fol. 14 V.) By Toros Roslin – Scanned from L’Art Armenien, Sirarpie Der Nersessian, Flammarion, 1989, P.130, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4512447

I Shall Not Fear

Based on Psalm 46, to the tune FINLANDIA:

I shall not fear, though all the earth is shaken,
though mountains fall and seas in tempest rise,
though I am struck, the heart within me quaking,
and I will fall as strength within me dies.
In me there flows, while all my walls are breaking,
a living stream whose source will ne'er run dry.

Then I will trust the spring that rises in me,
though nations fall and kingdoms topple down.
And I will drink and let the waters fill me
with saving hope when deep despair abounds.
God is my rock, from him these waters streaming
are all my life, where only death was found.

Let mountains fall, and let my heart be shaken:
The waters flow, and deserts they will fill.
The sword is bent; the bow at last is breaking:
All wars must end and fade as all things will.
Yet God is here, unmoved when I am quaking;
I cling to him who bids my soul, “Be still.”

A natural spring on Mackinac Island in Michigan By DaemonDivinus, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=982411