The healing of Nineveh

On social media and even in the news recently, some people have been asking, what would the prophets say to us today?

I'm not a prophet, but I think one message the prophets would give is the same as they have always given, crystallised in these words by Jesus: 'Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near' (Matt. 4:17).

Repentance is illustrated in the painting below, depicting the repentance of Nineveh:

The Repentance of Nineveh

After the prophet Jonah proclaims God's judgement on the violent city of Nineveh, the Ninevites immediately repent: they believe God, fast, mourn, turn from their evil and call on God. As a result, God spares them from destruction, healing their land (see Jonah 3).

We can see ourselves in various characters in the book of Jonah: some of us are like Jonah, urged by God to accept his concern even for those who do evil, longing for their repentance and salvation. Some of us are like the vine (Jonah 4:6), called by God to sacrificially give of ourselves that others may know God's mercy.

Most surprisingly, though, we are like the Ninevites, citizens of violent nations facing the coming judgement of God. 

Like the Ninevites, to us the prophetic call of repentance returns, giving us the chance to daily turn from our evil--not just the evil of others, but even my own--so that we may receive God's mercy and healing.

The kingdom of heaven is near, so let's become citizens of that greatest nation (Phil. 3:20).

I end this post with a song based on the book of Jonah, told from the perspective of the vine.

Our only hope

New Way to Be Human (1999)

Jon Foreman, lead singer of the rock band Switchfoot, has recently been posting live solo performance videos (from home, of course) of various Switchfoot songs.

One of these songs, 'Only Hope', comes from their album New Way to be Human. When my brother and I first discovered this album many years ago, I was struck by its spiritual depth and musical creativity. However, I didn't recognise how beautiful and powerful the song 'Only Hope' was until listening to it again recently.

The singer begins:

There's a song that's inside of my soul
It's the one that I've tried to write over and over again
I'm awake in the infinite cold
But you sing to me over and over and over again.

I interpret this to be a dialogue between the singer and God, whom the singer encounters within his soul. He hears God's song and the beauty of that song compels him to try to write his own songs.

Sing to me of the song of the stars
Of your galaxies dancing and laughing and laughing again
When I feel like my dreams are so far
Sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again.

This alludes to the book of Jeremiah: '"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future"' (29:11).

Thus this song is about the steadfast design God has for each of us. This is also known as vocation. Here I am not talking about specific, individual vocations, such as a calling to the priesthood, marriage/celibacy or a certain profession. Although that is related, I am referring to the universal vocation that all people have: in short, to become Christlike.

Let me illustrate this. Here in the UK, we recently celebrated Mothering Sunday. This holiday (the origins of Mother's Day in the U.S. and Canada) is connected with the Feast of the Annunciation, when the Church celebrates the angel Gabriel announcing to the Virgin Mary that her vocation is to become the mother of the Lord. Every year this Feast is celebrated on 25th March, which is quite appropriately nine months before Christmas Day.

One can view 'Only Hope' from the Virgin Mary's perspective: the song inside of her soul is Christ, whom she will carry, give birth to and mother.

Like the Virgin Mary, our vocation is to bear Christ within us. How do we do this? It begins with acceptance and offering ourselves to God. In the words of the Virgin Mary: 'I am the Lord's servant. May your word to me be fulfilled' (Luke 1:38).

Similarly, Foreman expresses both receiving his vocation and offering himself to God:

I give you my apathy

I'm giving you all of me
I want your symphony singing in all that I am
At the top of my lungs, I'm giving it back.

God calls us, but he does not force us. We must cooperate by accepting and giving back. After accepting her vocation, the Virgin Mary sings her own song of praise (called the Magnificat) and eventually offers Christ back to God, accepting that he must be about his Father's business through ministering, teaching and eventually laying down his own life for the world.

Christ is the song inside of our souls. Can we hear him? Will we join in, giving ourselves back to God? It is through our self-offering, in our love and service to God and neighbour, that we become more like Christ.

As we offer ourselves to God, we become more truly ourselves, and this is God's purpose for us. As St Irenaeus said, 'The glory of God is a human fully alive.'

The coronavirus pandemic has changed so many of our circumstances, but in these times, perhaps more than ever, our purpose remains to listen to Christ and offer his love to the people in our lives through a variety of ways (even from home!), and in so doing, fulfil our vocation of becoming more like Christ.

So I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands and pray to be only yours
I know now you're my only hope.

"Child, get up!" (song)

From last night's service of prayer for healing, a reflection of Luke 8:49-56

Sometimes it seems the most challenging time of the day is the morning, when we must get out of bed although we would rather get more sleep. As important as sleep is, eventually we must get up and live our lives, doing what we are here to do.

The first Christians saw sleep as a metaphor for death. As the Apostle Paul writes to the church in Thessalonika, “But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep” (4:13-14).

In tonight’s scripture reading, Jesus raises a girl from sleep which, to most people, seemed like death. I ask us to think about how we are like the young girl.

How have we as individuals, communities, societies, the church, fallen into a sleep which looks like death?

What parts of us need reviving, need fresh life?

How might we need to wake up to do the work we are called to do?

May we, like the young girl, hear Jesus’ call to us: “Child, get up!”

And may we rise to the glory of God.

Chant: "Wake up, O sleeper"

 

Christ, live inside our hearts (song)

On 24th September (you can tell I'm getting accustomed to British conventions) I married Miriam. If you don't know her already, she's a wonderful young woman, and one whom I love very much. The scripture passage for our wedding service was Ephesians 3:14-21, about Christ living in us, deepening our knowledge of his love. I wrote a hymn for the service based on the passage, which I'm sharing below. The tune is LOVE UNKNOWN (http://www.hymnary.org/media/fetch/104638).

Christ, live inside our hearts

And make us strong to know

And nourish us to grow in knowledge of your love:

How long and high, how wide and deep

A love beyond all we can know.

Christ, live inside our hearts

And rise into a spring

That gushes into living water endlessly

Then overflow like steady streams

For thirsty ground and seeds to drink.

Christ, live inside our hearts

And grow into a tree

That bears good fruit in season, shading those beneath

A tree of life with healing leaves

That brings delight to all who eat.

Christ, live inside our hearts

Prepare in us a room

That’s fit to welcome you and whom you bring along

Come, set the table for the feast

That we may make our home in you.

Christ, live inside our hearts

And fill us with your love

That we may love each other as you have loved us:
As broken bread and poured-out cup,
Your love is life and is enough.

Hymn: Though I have tried to follow you

Almost a year ago I wrote a hymn about God's forgiveness through Jesus Christ. I've made a few revisions to it so that the meter is entirely uniform. I'm more satisfied with the ending now, too, since it more clearly expresses what I hope to convey.


Though I have tried to follow you
I find I'm still in need
of your strong light to heal my thoughts
and guide my every deed.
How narrow is the road to life!
How easily I stray!
Yet still my eyes are fixed on you
to navigate my way.

When you walked down the streets we knew
you offered all your grace,
forgiving those who turned to you,
revealing God's embrace.
When you hung high upon a tree,
you saw where I was lost
and drew me with your broken heart
to meet you at the cross.

Your wounded body broke like bread,
your blood poured out like wine.
You lifted up our life and death
to save us for all time.
You tell us now to take and eat,
for in this, you are found.
We eat and drink this healing meal:
we stand on holy ground. 

So make us strong to do your work
and follow all your ways,
to share the gift we have received:
new mercies every day
and travel on this narrow path
that flows through time and space
uniting all who turn to you,
revealing God's embrace.


Text: Josh Seligman
Tune: RESIGNATION/CONSOLATION
Revised Jan. 2020, this time for theological reasons

"Bless the Lord, my soul" (song)

"Bless the Lord, my soul" is a powerful Taize chant.

Bless the Lord, my soul
And bless God's holy name
Bless the Lord, my soul
Who leads me into life. 

I recently discovered the passage on which it is based, Psalm 103:1-5:

Praise the LORD, O my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
Praise the LORD, O my soul,
and forget not all his benefits--
who forgives all your sins
and heals all your diseases, 
who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,
who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's. 

"Don't be afraid" (song)

Last week, the church I attend, Southeast Church of the Nazarene, hosted its first Skills Camp. Usually towards the end of summer they have a basketball camp in which adults teach children basketball skills and a lesson about God and share Christ's love through all of the activities, but this year they decided to widen the skills taught. This year the skills were creative writing, art, soccer, and the subject which I taught, music.

Each day, we would worship God through music and then the leader, Miko, would teach a lesson about a bible character who persevered through struggles. On the third night, we studied Priscilla. In my lesson for that evening, I tried to teach the children how to sing harmony, so I talked about how Priscilla and Aquila were different people yet worked together in unison, just like harmonies. (Teaching young children to sing harmony is very difficult!) I also talked about how Priscilla and Aquila, along with the apostle Paul, traveled and strengthened the church; similarly, songs can strengthen us.

I taught the children one song that has strengthened me. Last Easter, during the Sunday evening service at the Iona Abbey, the theme was not being afraid, and singer and song leader Alison Adam taught everyone the song "Don't be afraid," a short song written by John Bell.

Don't be afraid, my love is stronger
My love is stronger than your fear
Don't be afraid, my love is stronger
And I have promised, promised to be always near.

Click here to hear a sound clip of this song.

Short song: "The whole earth is filled with God's glory"

Do you ever experience moments when it seems as though the world is worshiping God through its beauty? A couple of days ago I was walking and felt that way, watching the sun bend its rays around a cloud. I wrote this song, borrowing words to express how I was feeling.

Click here to hear a MIDI version of this song.

Short song: "Wake up, O sleeper"

A couple weeks ago I came across the following passage in Ephesians 5:14:

Wake up, O sleeper,
rise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.

The message continues to stir me. Apparently these could have been the lyrics to a hymn sung by early Christians. I've written a short song based on the words.

Click here to hear a MIDI version of the song.

Short song: Rejoice in the Lord always

During Tuesday evening services on Iona, volunteers who are leaving later that week are sent off and blessed. On my final Tuesday evening service, the scripture passage was Philippians 4:4-9:  

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

Bluebells, daisies, and sycamore trees on Iona

I have been thinking about this passage often since then. How easy it is for me to be anxious at times, but these words remind me that I don't have to be anxious, that any moment can be an opportunity to delight in God, that I have much to be thankful for, and that I am invited to make my requests to God.  

I've written a short song based on these words.

Click here to download the MIDI version of this song.

Hymn: You're the one who created me

Today I added three more verses to the short song I wrote about last week. I also changed the harmony and removed the bass line; I think two parts gives it an appropriate simplicity and openness. Now it's a hymn, and not a short song; and the title has changed too.

Listen to the tune

 
1. You're the one who created me
Even now you're still making me
Who will I be when your work is done?

2. You have given me gifts to use
What's the work you would have me do?
Help me hear you when your call should come.

3. I can't see where the path unfolds
I don't know what tomorrow holds
Teach me how to follow you today.

4. Who can say what the Lord will do?
Every day is a gift anew
Trust in God and do not be afraid.

Short song: Who can say what the Lord will do?

Today I finished a short song/chant I began writing a couple of months ago while on Iona. I had written the melody and various verses, which wrestled with the uncertainty of the future, but never could quite find the right shape or direction of the song. I ended up keeping it simple with just one verse, since the melody seemed to suggest going in that direction.

Who can say what the Lord will do?
Every day is a gift anew.

Trust in God and do not be afraid.

Green woods near Carsaig on the isle of Mull

I didn't appreciate short songs until I went to Iona. Every Tuesday there is a service of prayers for healing, and throughout the service, between the prayers, we would repeat a short chant, usually a few lines long. Some of those chants have grown in me and continue speaking to me.

As a musician assistant, once a week I helped lead a Taizé service. If you don't know, Taizé is a community in France where thousands of people come each week to worship and work with each other (kind of like Iona, but with more people. I also hear the food's better on Iona). The community is known for its original chants, hundreds of them, which they sing over and over again in their simple, meditative services. These Taizé chants too have become very meaningful to me.

Once I was talking with a guest from the Netherlands, who had been to Taizé, and who compared the music: Taizé chants are sung inwardly, to oneself, whereas Iona Community songs are sung outwardly, to the world. I liked that distinction; the Taizé chants that I know seem to be focused on personal devotion to God, and the Iona Community is known for its commitment to living out the gospel, particularly through seeking peace and justice, and this is reflected in many of its songs. However, the Iona Community has written some powerful songs and chants that speak to me inwardly, too.

Hymn: Though I have tried to follow you

I've just returned from the Iona Abbey, Scotland, where I was volunteering for two months (again) as a musician assistant. One of the things I got to do was share some of the hymns I have written. In a morning service on the weekend before Holy Week, the congregation sang the following hymn, "Though I have tried to follow you." I wrote it as a way to ask for forgiveness and help, as well as to better understand the meaning of Jesus' death.


Though I have tried to follow you, I find I'm still in need
of your strong light to guide my steps and steer my every deed.
How narrow is the road to life! How easily I stray!
Yet still my eyes are fixed on you to navigate my way.

When you walked down the streets we knew, you offered all your grace
Forgiving those who turned to you, pointing home to God's embrace.
When you hung high upon a tree, you saw where I was lost
and drew me with your broken heart to meet you at the cross.

Your wounded body breaks like bread; your blood pours out like wine.
I eat and drink this healing meal with others close beside.
And here, where once a cross stood tall, we find a table spread,
and you, whose body had been there, now live in us instead.

So make us strong to do your work and follow all your ways,
to share the gift we have received: new mercies every day,
and travel on this narrow path flowing through all time and space
to unite everyone who turns to you with the home of God's embrace.

Text: Josh Seligman
Tune: RESIGNATION

"All shall be well again, I know" (song)

Julian of Norwich (c. 1342-c. 1416) was an English anchoress, living in a cell next to a church building and giving spiritual counsel to people. She lived during a time ravaged by war, economic distress, and the Plague. She fell gravely ill and had a series of visions of Jesus, which she eventually wrote about and published.

The song "Bells of Norwich," about Julian, was written by the English songwriter Sydney Carter (1915-2004).

Loud are the bells of Norwich
And the people come and go
Here by the tower of Julian
I tell them what I know:

Ring out, bells of Norwich
And let the winter come and go
All shall be well again, I know.

Love, like the yellow daffodil
Is coming through the snow
Love, like the yellow daffodil
Is Lord of all I know.

Ring out, bells of Norwich
And let the winter come and go
All shall be well again, I know.

Ring for the yellow daffodil,
The flower in the snow
Ring for the yellow daffodil
And tell them what I know:

All shall be well, I'm telling you
Let the winter come and go
All shall be well again, I know.

Happy are the ones (Psalm 1)

 Happy are the ones who do not take
Advice from those whose hearts have turned astray
Or share the way and company of scoffers in their shame.

Happy are the ones who take delight
In doing what the Lord has said is right
And meditating on the word of God both day and night.

They are trees that grow by living streams
Bearing fruit in season patiently
Everything they do is good. Their leaves are always green.

As you led your people in the wilderness (song)

As you led your people in the wilderness
Guiding daily with a cloud and flame
Lead us now through all of our uncertainty
Let us know your presence still remains.

As you fed your people in the wilderness
Every day, enough to fill their bowls
Satisfy our hunger with our daily bread
Fill us with your word which makes us whole.

As you gave your people in the wilderness
Water sweet and flowing from a stone
Give us living water that will not run dry
May we drink from gardens we have grown.

As you saved your people in the wilderness
From the army that chased them through the sea
Deliver us from those who use and harm us
From evil laws and leaders set us free.

As you taught your people in the wilderness
How to walk and follow all your ways
Write your law upon our hearts that we may live
In love for you, our life a song of praise.

Because you brought your people through the wilderness
To the land you promised, full of rest
Though we are lost and cannot see, we hope in you
You are the way. We trust that you know best.


Written by Josh Seligman

Click here to hear a version of this hymn.
Click here to read more about this hymn. 

"Jesus is risen!", a resurrection hymn

I have written a hymn about Jesus' resurrection (and our own). The tune is BUNESSAN.

Jesus is risen!
I will go with him
Into the morning
Of the new day
Sorrow to swallow
New paths to follow
As the world opens
In his new way.

Jesus is risen!
All the world, listen:
Done are the days when
Death ruled as king.
Can you believe it?
Will you receive him?
Jesus our Lord
Now fills everything.

Jesus is risen!
We will rise with him
To live the story
Death tried to close.
Praise with your laughter
Praise with your whole life
Praise like the first light
When he arose!

Rhythmic rhyme in "Stand By Me"

This week I have been reading the hymn "Stand By Me," written by Charles A. Tindley in 1905, and I have been noticing something strange, literally. Though most of this post is about a literary observation rather than the hymn itself, the lyrics are powerful, so I'll share them here. While you read them, too, you might notice what I noticed.

When the storms of life are raging,
Stand by me
When the storms of life are raging,
Stand by me
When the world is tossing me
Like a ship upon the sea
Thou who rules wind and water,
Stand by me.

In the midst of tribulation,
Stand by me
In the midst of tribulation,
Stand by me.
When the hosts of sin assail,
And my strength begins to fail,
Thou who never lost a battle,
Stand by me.

In the midst of faults and failures,
Stand by me
In the midst of faults and failures,
Stand by me
When I've done the best I can
And my friends misunderstand
Thou who knowest all about me,
Stand by me.

When I'm growing old and feeble,
Stand by me
When I'm growing old and feeble,
Stand by me
When my life becomes a burden
And I'm nearing chilly Jordan
O thou Lily of the Valley,
Stand by me.

(Tune: STAND BY ME)

The structure of each stanza is ABABCCDB (see Fig. 1), with the A lines repeating, the B lines repeating (always "Stand by me"), the last words of the C lines rhyming with each other (for example, "assail" and "fail" in the second stanza), and the D line sharing the same meter with the A and C lines but not rhyming with either of them--at least not as we traditionally understand rhymes. I'll get back to that in a second.

Fig. 1: Structure of stanza one
1  When the storms of life are raging,  (A)
2  Stand by me  (B)
3  When the storms of life are raging,  (A)
4  Stand by me  (B)
5  When the world is tossing me  (C)
6  Like a ship upon the sea  (C)
7  Thou who rules wind and water,  (D)
8  Stand by me.  (B)

Further, each line is trochaic, meaning the stress falls on the first beat of each foot (see Fig. 2). In each stanza, lines A, C, and D are tetrameter--they contain four feet--and line B is dimeter, with two feet.

Fig. 2: Meter of stanza two
/  x  /  x  /  x  /  x 
/  x  / 
/  x  /  x  /  x  /  x 
/  x  / 
/  x  /  x  /  x  / 
/  x  /  x  /  x  / 
/  x  /  x  /  x  /  x 
/  x  / 

/ = stressed syllable
x = unstressed syllable

Dictionary.com defines rhyme as "a word agreeing with another in terminal sound." Based on this definition, in each stanza, the only line that doesn't rhyme is line D, since its final sound does not correspond with any other final sounds in the stanza. However, when I read line D, particularly in the last three stanzas, I feel that somehow it does rhyme. In stanza two, for example, it seems like the word "battle" rhymes with a word that comes earlier, though I cannot locate that word.

I believe the rhyming sensation comes from the fact that, though line D ends in a word that doesn't rhyme with any other, line D--like lines A and C-- is tetrameter, whereas line B is dimeter. The movement from dimeter to tetrameter back to dimeter (in Fig. 1, lines 4 through 8) creates a sensation of rhyme when we reach line D's last foot. It is not line D's word or words themselves ("battle," "about me," or "Valley") which rhyme with other words, but their placeholder value, their nature as trochaic feet at the end of a tetramic line. Basically, their feet rhyme with other feet. But the words are important too, since we would never hear the feet without the words that inhabit them.

Some nuances in the hymn slightly change this rhyming effect. The first stanza is the only one containing a line D consisting of seven rather than eight syllables:

Thou who rules wind and water 

/  x  /  /  x  /  x 

Thus, while the line is still trochaic, it doesn't correspond exactly with the other tetramic lines in that stanza, which all have eight syllables. This mismatch eliminates the sensation of rhyme when we reach the word "water." The lines D of the second and third stanzas, however, have eight trochaic syllables, which is why their final words, "battle" and "about me," rhyme both with each other and with the other tetramic lines.

In stanza four, line D also has eight syllables. What's different, though, is that whereas in the first three stanzas lines C contain six syllables, here in the fourth stanza lines C both contain eight syllables, just like line D. Though here line D's contrast is not as distinct from surrounding lines as in the second and third stanzas, line D still rhymes. This suggests that we hear rhythmic rhymes clearly when lines of diverse rhythms surround it (the dimetric nature of lines B is in this case very helpful) and when the rhyming line's stress pattern corresponds as closely as it can with its parallel lines. Here, those parallel lines are the A lines, whose repetition further strengthens the rhyme effect of line D because line D's final word surprises us by being something different than line A's final word.

Because rhythm is integral to sound in poetry, we can broaden the definition of rhyme to include words that correspond with each other through their rhythmic structure. 

Tindley's hymn asks God to stand by us when storms thrash us, tribulations attack us, friends misunderstand us, and death looms around us. We might see in the lines of this hymn an image of God standing with us: although lines D end with words that do not traditionally rhyme, the lines still belong in the hymn because they correspond rhythmically with lines A and C and contrast rhythmically with lines B, creating a new kind of rhyme. Further, their differences emphasize the message of their words. When we are disjointed or feel out of step, may we discover God standing by us, empowering us to rhyme.

Hymnflection: "I'll Go Where You Want Me to Go"

If you're ever wondering if God is calling you to do something, a song you may wish to consider singing is "I'll Go Where You Want Me to Go," written by Mary Brown in 1892.

It may not be on the mountain's height,
or over the stormy sea;
it may not be at the battle's front
my Lord will have need of me;
but if by a still, small voice he calls
to paths I do not know,
I'll answer dear Lord with my hand in thine,
I'll go where you want me to go.

I'll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,
o'er mountain, or plain or sea;
I'll say what you want me to say, dear Lord,
I'll be what you want me to be.

Perhaps today there are loving words
which Jesus would have me speak;
there may be now, in the paths of sin,
some wanderer whom I should seek.
O Savior, if thou wilt be my Guide,
tho' dark and rugged the way,
my voice shall echo the message sweet,
I'll say what you want me to say.

There's surely somewhere a lowly place
in earth's harvest fields so wide,
where I may labor thro life's short day
for Jesus the Crucified.
So, trusting my all unto thy care,
I know thou lovest me!
I'll do thy will with a heart sincere,
I'll be what you want me to be.

(Tune: MANCHESTER)

This hymn encourages us to be open to God's leading in our lives, whether God calls us to move geographically, to speak a good message to strangers, or to commit our lives in service to God. According to the song, God needs us. God may be able to accomplish his will by snapping his fingers and miraculously changing the world, but this song teaches that God needs our help, and that God acts in the world through us.

While God often calls people to new lands, the second verse shows that God may call us to participate in God's mission where we are. When we walk down the street, we may find "some wanderer" to whom God has called us to bring glad tidings. The third verse describes the entire world as "harvest fields so wide." This alludes to when Jesus, having traveled through various towns to teach, preach, and heal, looks on the crowds with compassion because they are like sheep with no shepherd, and tells his disciples, "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest" (Matt. 9:37-38). Through this hymn, we can ask God to hire us as laborers in God's harvest.

The phrase "life's short day" alerts me to the limited opportunities we have to do good. At the same time, it encourages me to give thanks for every moment, not fearing that it will vanish but delighting in it because of its rarity. Paradoxically, though the day is short, time serving God overflows. Rather than counting time in fear that it is running out, we can count time in thanksgiving, knowing that all time belongs in God. More important than how much time we have left is how we live in that time. My brief experiences with time suggest that time in love for God and others always becomes holy and good, and there is enough time for that kind of time. Also, if God is merciful and if time belongs in God, then time too may be merciful. Though the day is short, the day has not ended, and God may give us grace in the form of time to do God's work even if we have waited longer than we should have to begin working.

Mary Brown says we labor for "Jesus the Crucified," suggesting that Jesus' death is the model for our work. Sometimes that comparison can tempt people to work in ways that are not good for them, and in ways God has not called them to work. For example, in an attempt to help another person, someone may inflict suffering upon herself, even if that suffering does nothing to help the other person. She may think her action was right because Jesus helped others by giving his entire life. Although through Jesus' death we receive life and enter a new relationship with God, his sacrifice is unique and final; there is none like his.

Further, various places in the Bible tell us that God does not require us to sacrifice ourselves, our animals, or our firstborn; instead, God requires that we do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God (Micah 6:8). The sacrifice God desires, the Psalmist tells us, is a broken spirit and a contrite heart (Ps. 51:17).

What helps me understand Jesus' sacrifice is communion. In communion, we share a meal which is Jesus' body and blood given for us. We give thanks for what God did for us in Christ. Jesus' death is like his life in that it was a gift and an offering for the world. Wherever Jesus went, he gave of himself to others, delighting them with stories and teaching them God's ways. His death was the ultimate act of teaching people how to live faithfully and peacefully, proclaiming the good news of God's reconciling love, and healing the world. When we take communion, we welcome the power of Jesus' good work into our lives.

Similarly, we are called to be thanksgiving meals which nourish, strengthen, and give life to others. It may mean moving to the middle of a war zone, or it may mean moving to the middle of a city. It may mean preaching the gospel in a foreign language, or it may mean reaching out to someone we see often but have never looked at in the eyes. God's work for each of us is unique because God has given us different gifts and callings. But we unite in that our model and energy source for this work is Jesus; like him, we can trust our all into God's care, confident in God's love for us. Empowered by his Spirit, we too can go where God sends us, say what God gives us, and be who God calls us to be.

"Just as I am, I make my plea" (song)

Recently I have been reading the hymn "Just as I am, without one plea" by Charlotte Elliott (1789-1871), written in 1835. I know this hymn is meaningful to many people, and I like the idea of coming to God just as we are, but I have never quite related with this hymn. Maybe it's the old-fashioned language; maybe it's because I can't remember singing it in church; it may also be because I have difficulty connecting the message of the song with its prominent image of the Lamb of God. So I have written another version. But first, the original:

Just as I am, without one plea,
But that Thy blood was shed for me,
And that Thou bidst me come to Thee,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot,
To Thee whose blood can cleanse each spot,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt,
Fightings and fears within, without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind;
Sight, riches, healing of the mind,
Yea, all I need in Thee to find,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, Thou wilt receive,
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;
Because Thy promise I believe,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, Thy love unknown
Hath broken every barrier down;
Now, to be Thine, yea, Thine alone,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, of that free love
The breadth, length, depth, and height to prove,
Here for a season, then above,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!

(TUNE:  WOODWORTH) 

In my version, I draw out the image of Jesus as the Lamb of God in several ways, beginning in the first verse with an allusion to John 1, in which John the Baptist calls Jesus the "Lamb of God." John's disciples then ask Jesus where he is staying and Jesus replies, "Come and see" (v. 30).

Just as I am, I make my plea
to ask if you would welcome me
and in reply you say, "Come and see."
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as you were, you came to us:
the Child of God, a child of dust
to show us how God's love to trust.
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as we were, you took away
the sin of the world, our deep decay
and called us to follow the light of your Way
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, I come to you
though hiding myself, though torn in two
believing that you will make me true.
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Just as I am, you welcome me
to join at the feast of your family.
What was grape and wheat we will take and eat:
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!