Willie's Amazing Grace

"Whatever comes, we shall endure"

This song is an encouragement this morning. And the words O come O come Immanuel are good, year round!

Happy Birthday, Mr Mozart

My favorite.

The Lamb and Gift of Gifts.

This time of year is a perfect occasion to gorge on beautiful old music. I've been doing so on various Rdio, Pandora, and iTunes Radio stations as well as our wonderful local public radio station 91.1 in Nashville.

This tune in the video above, composed by Sir John Tavener, isn't particularly old, but the verses are by William Blake in the 18th century. Not exactly Christmas music but in a way, it is.

The excerpt below is from a favorite book, Valley of Vision, and dovetails nicely with our pastor's Advent sermons on the humanity and deity of Jesus. This is from "Gift of Gifts":

Herein is wonder of wonders:
He came below to raise me above,
He was born like me that I might become like Him.

Herein is love;
when I cannot rise to Him He draws near on wings of grace,
to raise me to Himself.

Herein is power;
when Deity and humanity were infinitely apart
He united them in indissoluble unity, the uncreated and the created.

Herein is wisdom;
when I was undone, with no will to return to Him,
and no intellect to devise recovery,
He came, God-incarnate, to save me to the uttermost,
as man to die my death,
to shed satisfying blood on my behalf,
to work out a perfect righteousness for me.

from J.I. Packer

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His holy will abideth;
I will be still whate’er he doth;
And follow where he guideth.
He is my God: though dark my road.
He holds me that I shall not fall.
And so to him I leave it all,
He holds me that I shall not fall.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He never will deceive me.
He leads me by the proper path;
I know he will not leave me.
I take, content, what he hath sent.
His hand can turn my griefs away,
And patiently I wait his day,
His hand can turn my griefs away.

Whate’er my God ordains is right,
Though now this cup, in drinking,
May bitter seem to my faint heart,
I take it all, unshrinking.
My God is true; each morn anew.
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart,
And pain and sorrow shall depart,
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart.

Whate’er my God ordains is right.
Here shall my stand be taken.
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine,
Yet am I not forsaken.
My Father’s care is round me there.
He holds me that I shall not fall,
And so to him I leave it all,
He holds me that I shall not fall.

Loves comes down

I'm searching for a king and kingdom

Here among the beggars and the weak

The broken and redeemed



I'm finding grace beyond all measure

In flesh and blood He hides His majesty

Inside of you and me



Why would a King do such a thing?



Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it marvelous?

The God of the universe, He became one of us

We cry out and then love comes down again

Faith is found in Him, Hallelujah



Oh, glorious beyond all measure

Bending low to wash His traitor's feet

People just like me



Why would a king do such a thing?


Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it marvelous?

The God of the universe, He became one of us

We cry out and then love comes down again

Hope is found in Him, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah



So sing, sing for faith, sing for hope

Sing for what great love has done

What was lost He has found

Shout it out, oh



Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it marvelous?

The God of the universe, He became one of us

We cry out and then love comes down again

Glory is found in Him, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, so we're singing 



—matt maher, michael gungor, audrey assad, paul moak
icon of the trinity via flickr, johnwayne17 

Is there any response?

O dear Lord, what can I say to you on this holy night? Is there any word that could come from my mouth, any thought, any sentence? You died for me, you gave all for my sins, you not only became human for me but also suffered the most cruel death for me. Is there any response? I wish that I could find a fitting response, but in contemplating your Holy Passion and Death I can only confess humbly to you that the immensity of your divine love makes any response seem totally inadequate.

Let me just stand and look at you. Your body is broken, your head wounded, your hands and feet are split open by nails, your side is pierced. Your dead body now rests in the arms of your Mother. It is all over now. It is finished. It is fulfilled. It is accomplished.

Sweet Lord, gracious Lord, generous Lord, forgiving Lord, I adore you, I praise you, I thank you. You have made all things new through your passion and death. Your cross has been planted in this world as the new sign of hope.

Let me always live under your cross, O Lord, and proclaim the hope of your cross unceasingly. 

Amen.

—  a Good Friday reflection by Henri Nouwen, in A Cry For Mercy.

Good Friday

by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)


Am I a stone, and not a sheep,
     That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy cross,
To number drop by drop Thy blood's slow loss,
And yet not weep?

Not so those women loved
     Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;
Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly;
     Not so the thief was moved;

Not so the Sun and Moon
     Which hid their faces in a starless sky,
A horror of great darkness at broad noon—
     I, only I.

Yet give not o'er,
     But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;
Greater than Moses, turn and look once more
     And smite a rock.

Letters.

This song is making me think...Easter?


"Letters From The Sky"

One of these days the sky's gonna break
And everything will escape and I'll know
One of these days the mountains
Are gonna fall into the sea and they'll know

That you and I were made for this
I was made to taste your kiss
We were made to never fall away
Never fall away

One of these days letters are gonna fall
From the sky telling us all to go free
But until that day I'll find a way
To let everybody know that you're coming back
You're coming back for me

'Cause even though you left me here
I have nothing left to fear
These are only walls that hold me here
Hold me here, hold me here, hold me here
Only walls that hold me here

One day soon I'll hold you like the sun holds the moon
And we will hear those planes overhead
And we won't have to be scared
'Cause we won't have to be scared
We won't have to be, yeah, scared, no

You're coming back for me
You're coming back for me
You're coming back to me
You're coming back for me
You're coming back for me
You're coming back

Jon's eye view

Nice camera photos from Jon Foreman on Twitter...

Concert for your birthday? Sure!

Sweaty good times in Vanderbilt Stadium... months of looking forward and now, over. But so worth it!

Tomorrow at Vanderbilt... finally!

Light of Heaven
Lord of mercy
Shine the goodness
Of your love upon this day
Till we see you
Till we know you
Till the sorrow
And the darkness fade away
Fade away

Some heavenly music.

Way way late, to both The King's Speech, and to Beethoven in general. Enjoy this most familiar work (to most classical fans) but new to me.

Song on a cloudy day.

From 1968 and Stevie, with love! What a darling song. Come on, sunny days...

Glorious Impossible, or, my post on Wendy Wills.

Happy third week of Advent. As I learn a little more about it, I find that Sunday was the day to celebrate joy... a personal goal I'll have for the rest of my life!

One of the interesting things about living in Nashville is that everyone is a musician, aspiring musician, or (like me) horribly untalented but loves music. I have a songwriter friend who wrote, a few years ago, a beautiful song that I always love singing this time of year. Unfortunately I don't have a link to her recording it, but it's on the internets by other artists out there. The lyrics are incredible.

See the Virgin is delivered
In a cold and crowded stall;
Mirror of the Father's glory
Lies beside her in the straw.

He is Mercy's incarnation
Marvel at this miracle!
For the Virgin gently holds the
Glorious Impossible.

Love has come to walk on water,
Turn the water into wine,
Touch the leper, bless the children
Love both human and divine.

Praise the wisdom of the Father
Who has spoken through His Son.
Speaking still He calls us to the
Glorious Impossible.

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glorious Impossible

He was bruised for our transgressions
And He bears eternal scars.
He was raised for our salvation
And his righteousness is ours.

Praise, oh, praise Him, praise the glory
Of this lavish grace so full.
Lift your souls now and receive the
Glorious Impossible!

I also love that this is the title of a beautiful Christmas book by Madeleine L'Engle, illustrated by Giotto. Yes, the one from Art History, who could draw a perfect circle. (Not an easy feat, just try doing it. Without a compass. Or Illustrator.)


Last week I enjoyed a good Jewish breakfast at a local deli with Wendy, while the snow poured out of the sky. We also were able to do a bit of illustration/design work for her and give her a new identity (the graphic design kind, not the witness protection kind). I've always been amazed by musicians and writers, but songwriters are especially in the "I don't even begin to understand how they do that" category. But what I especially love about Wendy is her kind heart and infectious laugh, which is surprisingly easy to get going. So, thank you, Wendy, for the opportunity to do work for you, for a chilly breakfast date, and for one of the most lovely songs I've ever heard. And, happy birthday tomorrow.

Her site is in progress, and if you google her you'll find a realtor and a country music artist. When it's up I will post links and a sample of the graphic identity we worked on with her. Fun working with a friend.

Waiting music.

I love Sting's music from the Police til now, and last year's If On a Winter's Night is no exception.
This year I ran across a lady's blog that made me think a bit, and appreciate the message that, no matter how many times I hear it, gives me a bit of a chill... unrelated to the weather! Read her words below:

Sting writes about the background of each song with a clear respect for the history and mystery of each one.  It is not a collection of  Christmas music… it is ‘winter’ music.   But he does allude to The Christmas Story, saying…

Since the first millennium the festival of Christmas has become the central and defining event of the winter season; the story of Christ’s birth contains many magical elements, prefigured by ancient prophecy… I appreciate the beauty of these stories and how they have inspired musicians and poets for many centuries.  It was my desire to treat these themes with reverence and respect, and despite my personal agnosticism, the sacred symbolism of the Church’s art still exerts a powerful influence over me.

After describing the songs which come from the Christmas story, he wrote the paragraph at the top of this post.  You might want to read it again.
Do you see it? A man who respects the story of Christ but does not hold the belief still sees how God’s story of redemption is echoed in the cyclical nature of the world around us, and in the art we have created across the centuries.
Do you feel it? A simple sense of awe.
Oh that we who know this story and do believe may keep this same sense of awe.

Hoping that this second week of Advent brings the awe, hope, longing and gratitude for that which we are waiting.

Second time at the Ryman

Wonderful, adorable, witty, charming Crowded House. So much fun, again.

Concert for Emmett.

Come on out to Rolling Hills Community Church on August 31st for a concert supporting a friend and percussionist, Emmett Stallings, who was recently diagnosed with cancer. If you don't know his story, check out his blog at www.teamemmett.com/.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas, friends... enjoy the last days of Advent with a little bit of Medieval loveliness, one of my favorite songs. The lyrics are posted below, and this song is featured on a lovely recording that a friend of mine introduced me to years ago. (Thanks, Abe!)

Adam Lay Ybounden

Adam lay ybounden, bounden in a bond,
Four thousand winter thoughte he not too long;
And al was for an apple, and apple that he took,
As clerkes finden writen, writen in hire book.
Ne hadde the apple taken been, the apple taken been,
Ne hadde nevere Oure Lady ybeen hevene Queen.
Blessed be the time that apple taken was:
Therfore we mown singen Deo Gratias.

Here's a little explanation from someone wiser and wittier than I. Merry Christmas!

Wintry Sting

I was sad to find out that the PBS broadcast of this concert was weeks ago on my local station. Here's a clip of one of my favorite Sting solo songs that was performed this fall in the beautiful Durham Cathedral, although it's not on his latest album of winter songs that was released not long ago. It's a lovely version of the song, although I think it would be great stripped down with just Dominic on the guitar.

The liner notes are well-written and typically introspective and dark. His take on the season is definitely not the cheery carols round the fire type, which is one reason I think I will really like it. Differences in beliefs aside, it's a very good listen. Maybe even more so because of them. Thanks to Jay for nabbing it for me.