Our Hearts Are Sinful

One for Ash Wednesday and Lent, to the tune ERHALT UNS, HERR (“The Glory of These Forty Days”):

 Our hearts are sinful, stained with blood;
 our spirits in their anguish torn;
 our bodies little more than mud—
 O God, will you leave us forlorn?

There is no water in this world
 can wash our hearts and make them pure.
 Our souls into the depths are hurled;
 is there no hope?  Is there no cure?

Ah, no!  There is the Lord of hosts
 who braves temptation's lonely hour
 to silence all the tempter's boasts
 and bend himself to serve God's pow'r.

Call water from the rock, O Christ,
 to wash our hearts and make them clean
 that we may make a sacrifice;
 our contrite spirits we will bring.
  
 Accept, O Father, this poor gift
 that you gave us at our first dawn.
 Our wounded hearts and souls we lift
 made whole again by Christ, your Son.
  
 O Spirit, flame that burns to ash
 all sin and stain, all soil and strife,
 come guide the hearts that Christ has washed
 and lead us on to share his life.

*Christ in the Wilderness* by Ivan Kramskoy, 1872 – Google Cultural Center, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=38344996

Oh, Christ, You Pour the New-Pressed Wine

For white, American Christians (myself included) in the year of Our Lord 2021, to the tune EIN FESTE BURG (“A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”):

 Oh, Christ, you pour the new-pressed wine,
 the cup of our salvation,
 our joy for years of hard-wept brine
 and strength against temptation.
 But we this wine have poured,
 against your grace, oh Lord,
 into the skins of old,
 of empire and of gold—
 oh, see their devastation!
  
 You bid us wash each other's feet,
 but we, instead, have trampled.
 You gave to us your flesh to eat,
 but we strange fruit have sampled.
 You crushed the serpent's head
 to free us from his dread,
 but we have crushed th'oppressed,
 have burdened those distressed,
 against your own example.
  
 Our hardened hearts make soft again
 and give us true repentance.
 Give grace to mend what we have rent;
 press out your saving vintage.
 And where we have been blind,
 come, touch our eyes and mind
 that we may see the right
 and join the ancient fight
 ere you pass righteous sentence!

The *Washing of Feet* and the Supper, from the *Maesta* by Duccio, 1308–1311. Peter often displays amazement in feet washing depictions, as in John 13:8. By Duccio di Buoninsegna – 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=150330

Parables (For All the Times)

A man had two sons.
He came to the first and said,
‘Son, go out and work in the vineyard today.’
He said in reply, ‘I will not, ‘
but afterwards changed his mind and went.
The man came to the other son and gave the same order.
He said in reply, ‘Yes, sir, ‘but did not go.
Which of the two did his father’s will?
Matthew 21:28-32

To the tune SINE NOMINE (“For All the Saints”):

For all the times when we have told you, “Yes,”
then gone our ways, encased in callousness,
but in our pride still sure that you would bless,
oh, Lord, forgive us! Oh, Lord, forgive us!

For all the times we passed on th'other side
and turned from your own image, though you cried,
but still proclaimed a love that for us died,
oh, Lord, forgive us! Oh, Lord, forgive us!

For all the times we squandered what you gave
not on the poor but on the goods we crave,
though none of those come with us to the grave,
oh, Lord, forgive us! Oh, Lord, forgive us!

For all the times our gifts we would not yield,
though greater ones lay buried in the field,
and so our loves, our true selves we revealed,
oh, Lord, forgive us! Oh, Lord, forgive us!

For all the times your seed in us took root,
and merciless we plucked each sprouting shoot,
or choked the growth, or trampled on its fruit,
oh, Lord, forgive us! Oh, Lord, forgive us!

For all the times we hear you at the door
and do not welcome you, do not adore,
forgive us, Lord, and come to us once more!
Oh, Lord, forgive us! Oh, Lord, forgive us!

*The good Samaritan, after Delacroix*, 1890 By Vincent van Gogh – 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=151850

Such Wonders

Based on Psalm 107, which includes a sort of refrain: “Let them thank the Lord for his mercy, such wondrous deeds for the children of Adam.” This goes to the tune KINGSFOLD (“I Heard the Voice Of Jesus Say”).

We wither in a barren waste
where rivers once had flowed,
so hungry we forget the taste
of foods we used to hoard,
while those we cast off and debased
raise cups now running o'er.
Such wonders for the human race,
the workings of the Lord!

We vaunted in our mastery,
sit silent now in chains,
while those we had oppressed go free
to shout the Lord's acclaim.
Our pride and self-sufficiency
are ground beneath our pains:
Such wonders for humanity
from God who lives and reigns.

What we have turned to desert sands
can run with springs once more,
can be again a verdant land
if Christ will come restore,
if we turn back to his commands,
to love as once we swore.
Such wonders from the Savior's hands,
when hearts forgiven soar.

Assyrian wall carving of prisoners being forced to play lyres. From Nineveh, South West Palace 790BC – 592BC. Photo By Simon Speed (Own work), Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7671414

Confessional

Come touch and open up my eyes,
oh Christ, who made the blinded see.
The deafened hear, and so must I,
the muted voices you set free.

Those voices that cry out for right,
for justice—lo! They cry to heav'n,
condemning all my pride of might.
I know that justice shall be giv'n.

For you have numbered all the stars
and know each soul bowed down in chains.
You see their wounds and feel their scars
and treasure each one as your claim.

Then take the heart my pride has maimed;
what I made stone, as flesh renew.
My spirit, by my hatred lamed,
raise up, that it may limp to you.

Take my complacent, withered hands
and stretch them out for healing's sake,
at last to do what right demands,
these chains I made to turn and break.

You, Lord, are justice for th'oppressed,
who bear your image, just as I.
My own injustice I confess:
Give me repentance ere I die.

David is depicted giving a penitential psalm in this 1860 woodcut by Julius Schnorr von Karolsfeld, a Lutheran – Die Bibel in Bildern, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5490762

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.