Warp and Weft

And at your name all knees will bend,
all heads will bow to bear your yoke.
O, lay it gently on us then!
Your mercy, Lord, is all my hope,

for all you trusted to my hands,
the blessings on my head you poured,
my hans have twisted from their ends,
my thoughts have beaten into swords.

So when your judgment comes, O Christ,
how will you reckon all I've done,
the broken endings I have spliced
to all the graces you had spun?

Still bend my shoulders to your yoke
as you bent yours to humankind's:
So you restore the things I broke 
and pour again your new-made wine.

Still reach your hands out right and left:
No weaver, but a carpenter,
when you stretch out the warp and weft
my crooked ways run straight and sure,

for in your work my work is good.
Your wounded hands hold all my ends
and turn them as I never could
'til swords are plowshares once again.

Weaver, Nearer an Open Windows By Vincent van Gogh – Copied from an art book, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9108043

The Judge

Come, O Lord; come quickly:
Tear the skies apart.
Shadows here lie thickly:
Drive away the dark.
Come in all your glory;
come ascend your throne.
Finish now the story
whose end is yours alone.

Come, O Lord, with judgment:
Come to set things right.
Bring at last your justice;
end oppression's might.
Come and show us clearly
where we must atone.
Make your wounds a mirror
of all we've done and known.

Come, O Lord, with mercy:
Let its rivers run
through our desert thristing,
gleaming as the sun.
Let our barrens blossom
as once Eden bloomed.
Come, restore your garden,
and oh, come soon!  Come soon!

Day of Judgment By Gherardo Starnina – The Yorck Project (2002) 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei (DVD-ROM), distributed by DIRECTMEDIA Publishing GmbH. ISBN: 3936122202., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2978136

Eclipse: October 14, 2023

The noonday sun is darkened;
the moon devours its light 
as angels come to harvest,
for now the time is ripe.
We stand before their sickles
well knowing we will fall:
The Valley of Decision
will swallow us up whole.

Forgive us all our failures:
Great Judge, pardon our crimes!
Your hand alone can save us
here at the end of time.
We know that we're unworthy,
but still we kneel and ask:
Grant us, O Christ, your mercy
on this, the day of wrath.

But if tomorrow's coming,
if we have one more day,
let it be, Sun of Justice,
the dawning of your rays.
And let this shadow change us,
this darkness make us new,
that we'll no more be strangers,
but that we'll love like you.

Annular solar eclipse By Smrgeog – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=19656057

Vineyard

Now, inhabitants of Jerusalem and people of Judah,
judge between me and my vineyard:
What more was there to do for my vineyard
that I had not done?
Why, when I looked for the crop of grapes,
did it bring forth wild grapes?
Now, I will let you know
what I mean to do with my vineyard:
take away its hedge, give it to grazing,
break through its wall, let it be trampled!
Yes, I will make it a ruin:
it shall not be pruned or hoed,
but overgrown with thorns and briers;
I will command the clouds
not to send rain upon it.
The vineyard of the LORD of hosts is the house of Israel,
and the people of Judah are his cherished plant;
he looked for judgment, but see, bloodshed!
for justice, but hark, the outcry!
Isaiah 5:1-7

When justice turns to bloodshed,
when outrage does not cease,
when we fear not your judgement,
how can we speak of peace?

We claim to be your vineyard
while trampling down your vines,
but you will tread the vintage
we have so long denied:

To shatter all our strongholds
and leave us in the ruins,
unless we turn from bloodshed
and let ourselves be pruned.

The vines that we have trampled,
that should have been our feast,
were you, O gentle master,
in all your last and least.

Do not destroy the vineyard—
We still can bear good fruit!—
but teach us your new vintage.
Train us to grow anew.

So may our hearts be grafted
into your holy vine
that we become your branches
and bear your holy wine.

The Red Vineyard, 1888 by Vincent van Gogh, is the only van Gogh painting sold during his lifetime By Vincent van Gogh – History of the Red Vineyard by Anna Boch.com, 2nd upload: wikipaintings, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3073079

Mercy’s Measure

Stop judging and you will not be judged. Stop condemning and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give and gifts will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap. For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you.
Luke 6:37-38

Come forgive and be forgiven:
Gentle Lord, I hear you tell
that the measure I have given
shall be guven me as well.
But the meager grace I offer
cannot fill my wounded soul.
Though I cling to all my profit,
it can never make me whole.

Come unbind me, O my shepherd,
from the chains I bound myself.
Come and teach me mercy's measure,
overflowing every breath.
Turn my heart from condemnation;
turn my mind from judgment's scales,
for you came to bring salvation
even to the soul that fails.

Come and show me, Christ my savior,
love that does not count the cost.
That same love teach me to render,
for I, too, am blind and lost.
Oh, how infinite your treasure,
yet how little I can see!
God of love beyond all measure,
measure mercy out to me!

By Work Projects Administration Poster Collection – Library of CongressCatalog: http://lccn.loc.gov/98517015Image download: http://lcweb2.loc.gov/service/pnp/cph/3f00000/3f05000/3f05500/3f05508v.jpgOriginal url: http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/cph.3f05508, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=31925246

Foolish

On the parable of the wise and foolish virgins.

I am not wise; I am not good,
and when the bridegroom comes at last,
will I be standing where I should
with lighted lamp and ready flask?

Or will he see my empty hands,
my wick untrimmed and guttering,
and cast me out to wail and gnash
while calling others in to sing?

Where shall I go to seek for oil?
Where shall I find that burning light?
Not all my good or all my toil
can make me ready for that night.

But Christ the merchant ready stands,
and if I give all that I have
the oil of mercy, from his hands,
will flow for feasting, fire, and salve.

Then I must go—the hour is late—
to buy the oil I know will light
before the groom comes to the gate
and I am left to wail the night.

And if I fail, O Christ the groom,
O Christ the merchant, fill my lack!
And at your coming, still make room
for those who tried to fill the flask.

The Parable of the Ten Virgins (section) by Phoebe Traquair, Mansfield Traquair Church, Edinburgh By Phoebe Anna Traquair – Own work Stephencdickson, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=37847772

Taken In My Sin

Then Jesus straightened up and said to her,
“Woman, where are they?
Has no one condemned you?”
She replied, “No one, sir.”
Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you.
Go, and from now on do not sin any more.”
John 8:1-11

To the tune KINGSFOLD (“I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say”):

When taken in my sin I stand
before you, sinless Christ,
and angry stones fill every hand
while I must pay the price,
you kneel with grace I can't demand
amid the outraged cries:
You write my sins upon the sand,
confounding all the wise.

Why do you write in sand and clay,
in lines that cannot last,
what we would carve in stone for aye
and ever hold it fast?
Amid the traffic of the day
you write our sins gone past;
the wind will blow them all away
before a stone is cast.

O saving Christ, remember not
these letters or my sin,
but wipe away each line and jot
that mars my soul within.
And when I am in evil caught,
when I would stand condemned,
be then the mercy I have sought
and make me clean again.

*Christ and the Woman Taken in Adultery*, 1565 by Pieter Bruegel, Oil on panel, 24cm x 34cm. By Pieter Brueghel the Elder – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Christ_and_the_Woman_Taken_in_Adultery_Bruegel.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=21830141

Blow the Trumpet, Zion

It shall come to pass I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions. Even upon your male and female servants, in those days, I will pour out my spirit. I will set signs in the heavens and on the earth, blood, fire, and columns of smoke; The sun will darken, the moon turn blood-red, Before the day of the LORD arrives, that great and terrible day.
Joel 3:1-4

For Pentecost, to the Ralph Vaughan Williams tune, KING’S WESTON:

Lord, send out your Spirit,
and awake our hearts.
Though we cringe and fear it,
rouse our drowsing parts,
lest we fail to hear it,
that your Word imparts:
Your judgment is nearing.
Even now, it starts.

Blow the trumpet, Zion;
weep this dreadful day.
Weep, for Judah's lion
comes to judge his prey.
All that we rely on
he will cast away.
Our hearts, standing trial,
bow beneath his sway.

Spirit, fall like lightning,
flaring down this night.
Come, our vision bright'ning
toward the dawning light.
In your thunders fright'ning
you have shown your might.
Come, Spirit, enlight'ning;
teach us truth and right.