Corporate worship for Christ Community Church continues this Sunday, February 28 at 10:30 a.m. in Dech Memorial Chapel (Myerstown, PA) and online. We will be singing “Way Maker,” a song that is new to our fellowship. All may preview it here to help prepare for worship:
WAY MAKER
Verse 1
You are here Moving in our midst I worship You I worship You
You are here Working in this place I worship You I worship You
Verse 1
You are here Moving in our midst I worship You I worship You
You are here Working in this place I worship You I worship You
Chorus
Way Maker Miracle Worker Promise Keeper Light in the darkness My God That is who You are
Way Maker Miracle Worker Promise Keeper Light in the darkness My God That is who You are
Verse 2
You are here Touching every heart I worship You I worship You
You are here Healing every heart I worship You I worship You
Verse 3
You are here Turning lives around I worship You I worship You
You are here Mending every heart I worship You I worship You
Chorus
Way Maker Miracle Worker Promise Keeper Light in the darkness My God That is who You are
Way Maker Miracle Worker Promise Keeper Light in the darkness My God That is who You are
Bridge
You wipe away all tears You mend the broken heart You’re the answer to it all Jesus
You wipe away all tears You mend the broken heart You’re the answer to it all To it all Jesus, Yeah
Chorus
Way Maker Miracle Worker Promise Keeper Light in the darkness My God That is who You are
Way Maker Miracle Worker Promise Keeper Light in the darkness My God That is who You are
Verse 4
You are here Touching every life I worship You I worship You
You are here Meeting every need I worship You I worship You
Corporate worship continues at Christ Community Church this Sunday, February 14 at 10:30 a.m. in Dech Memorial Chapel, located in Evangelical Seminary (Myerstown, PA) and also online. We will be singing “All I Have Is Christ,” a song that is new to our fellowship. All may preview it here to help prepare for worship:
ALL I HAVE IS CHRIST
Verse 1 I once was lost in darkest night Yet thought I knew the way The sin that promised joy and life Had led me to the grave I had no hope that You would own A rebel to Your will And if You had not loved me first I would refuse You still
Verse 2 But as I ran my hell-bound race Indifferent to the cost You looked upon my helpless state And led me to the cross And I beheld God’s love displayed You suffered in my place You bore the wrath reserved for me Now all I know is grace
Chorus Hallelujah! All I have is Christ Hallelujah! Jesus is my life
Verse 3 Now, Lord, I would be Yours alone And live so all might see The strength to follow Your commands Could never come from me Oh Father, use my ransomed life In any way You choose And let my song forever be My only boast is You
Chorus Hallelujah! All I have is Christ Hallelujah! Jesus is my life
Corporate worship continues this Sunday, January 24 at 10:30 a.m. in Dech Memorial Chapel (Myerstown, PA) and online. We will be singing “Who You Say I Am,” a song that is new to our fellowship. All may preview it here to help prepare for worship:
WHO YOU SAY I AM
Verse 1
Who am I that the highest King Would welcome me? I was lost but He brought me in Oh, His love for me Oh, His love for me
Chorus 1
Who the Son sets free Oh, is free indeed I’m a child of God Yes I am
Verse 2
Free at last, He has ransomed me His grace runs deep While I was a slave to sin Jesus died for me Yes, He died for me
Chorus 2
Who the Son sets free Oh, is free indeed I’m a child of God Yes I am In my Father’s house There’s a place for me I’m a child of God Yes I am
Bridge
I am chosen Not forsaken I am who You say I am You are for me Not against me I am who You say I am
I already miss not blogging on a daily basis, but duty calls. Today would have featured glistening pics from the all-too-brief dusting we had this morning in south central PA. It was stunning, yet I almost missed it! I got up at 5:15 a.m. but didn’t discover until around 8:30 a.m. that it had snowed. So much for my powers of observation. By the time church was finished, we were just walking around outside in a slushy mess as the temperatures went above freezing and it started to drizzle. All the more reason to make it a hot chocolatey kind of night.
Instead of pics, I’ll share a vivid piece I came across while studying for today’s message. It’s Frederick Buechner’s description of Zacchaeus and his encounter with Jesus. It was originally published in his Peculiar Treasures, the second book of his popular lexical trilogy, where he profiles more than 125 of the Bible’s most holy and profane people—and one whale. It contains lively and witty prose, and the other volumes are going on my wish list pronto!
ZACCHAEUS APPEARS JUST once in the New Testament, and his story is brief (Luke 19:1-10). It is also one of the few places in the Gospels where we’re given any visual detail. Maybe that is part of what makes it stand out.
We’re told that Zacchaeus was a runt, for one thing. That is why when Jesus was reported to be en route into Jericho and the crowds gathered to see what they could see, Zacchaeus had to climb a tree to get a look himself. Luke says the tree he climbed was a sycamore tree.
We’re also told that Zacchaeus was a crook—a Jewish legman for the Roman IRS who, following the practice of the day, raked in as much more than the going tax as he could get and pocketed the difference. When people saw Zacchaeus oiling down the street, they crossed to the other side.
The story goes like this. The sawed-off shyster is perched in the sycamore tree. Jesus opens his mouth to speak. All Jericho hugs itself in anticipation of hearing him give the man Holy Hell. Woe unto you! Repent! Wise up! is the least of what they expect. What Jesus says is, “Come down on the double. I’m staying at your house.” The mob points out that the man he’s talking to is a public disaster. Jesus’ silence is deafening.
It is not reported how Zacchaeus got out of the sycamore, but the chances are good that he fell out in pure astonishment. He said, “I’m giving everything back. In spades.” Maybe he even meant it. Jesus said, “Three cheers for the Irish!”
The unflagging lunacy of God. The unending seaminess of man. The meeting between them that is always a matter of life or death and usually both. The story of Zacchaeus is the Gospel in sycamore. It is the best and oldest joke in the world.
Buechner’s description reminded me of a bit from George Target, as quoted in And Jesus Will Be Born. It highlights the ridiculousness of the “mutterers” in Luke 19:7—those religious up-tights who were against all the right things, but you somehow knew they were missing out on the abundant life that Jesus had promised.
They don’t smoke, but neither do they breathe fresh air very deeply; They don’t drink wine, but neither do they enjoy lemonade; They don’t swear, but neither do they glory in any magnificent words, neither poetry nor prayer. They don’t gamble, but neither do they take much chance on God. They don’t look at women and girls with lust in their hearts, but neither do they roll breathless with love and laughter, naked under the sun of high summer. It’s all rather pale and round-shouldered, the great Prince lying in prison.
Jesus was the key to Zacchaeus’ prison door, but he wasn’t the only person in Luke 19 who needed to be sprung from his cell.
1. Christmas Day has passed, and members of the extended family have all returned home. The house is quieter now (always a delight to us introverts, though still a bit depressing after all the excitement), but the Christmas season continues through January 5 on the liturgical calendar. Epiphany Day is Wednesday, January 6, and the season after the Epiphany extends through February 16, which is the day before Lent begins. Normally we would leave our decorations up and have an Epiphany Party for church members and the neighbors, but the virus makes gathering a real problem right now, so I’m not sure when the decorations will go back into hibernation.
2. The general theme of the Epiphany and the season that follows is Jesus’ manifestation of himself as deity. (The word “epiphany” comes from the Greek word for “manifestation” or “appearance”). In lectionary churches, Bible readings and sermons during this time of year typically deal with Jesus’ identity. In the eastern Church, Epiphany commemorates the baptism of Christ. In the western Church, Epiphany commemorates the natal star and the arrival of the Magi, with the following week focusing on Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan River. So, there is much for believers to look forward to, and any post-holiday spirits that are flagging can be reinvigorated by these great truths. In my experience, emotions can be like sine waves for many people (myself included); they go up and down in patterns, sometimes exhausting us in the process. Thankfully, Christ is the steady, unchanging “x-axis” that cuts through all the motion and commotion. That’s not a cliché; it’s an anchor for the soul when we’re feeling blue.
3. The civil calendar is fast heading toward January 1, which is New Year’s Day for most of the world. We find ourselves, then, living in between high moments. I suspect many people this year will be welcoming the calendar change from 2020 to 2021. That’s understandable, as a lot of awful things have happened this year. At the same time, believers are instructed to “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:2-4). That’s easier said than done, but it does mean that God always has a purpose in the our pain.
Whew! We’re almost done with 2020. Can I get an “Amen!”? I can’t help thinking of the title of that Barry Manilow song, “Looks Like We Made It.” Just 14 more hours by the time this article is posted.
4. Yes, God is always up to something good, even in the challenges we face. And, of course, he’s always faithful to his people in the midst of those challenges. I’ve been thinking of Matt Redman’s song “Never Once” as I look back on 2020 as a whole. It’s a good reminder that God has never abandoned us—not once.
Scars and struggles on the way But with joy our hearts can say Yes, our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone Never once did You leave us on our own You are faithful, God, You are faithful
5. As I look back on the fourth quarter of 2020, and especially the month of December, I do so with a good deal of gratitude and satisfaction. It’s been a joy to put more time and energy into This New Life, establishing a number of templates for future posting. I especially enjoyed preparing the articles I did that focused on the Incarnation—one of my favorite theological topics to research and ponder. I’ve never been a huge fan of “The Little Drummer Boy” song, but I’ve been thinking about one line in it for several days now: “I played my best for him, pa rum pum pum pum.” What do I have to offer my Lord except what he’s already given me? Absolutely nothing! Moreover, there’s not a single thing he ever needs from me—a mere human being with faults and flaws all over the place. He is, after all, the sovereign king and creator of the universe; he has no needs.
But he does accept our gifts when we offer them in sincerity of heart—like parents who open a small, homemade present from their young children on Christmas morning. The parents’ delight in that moment is not manufactured; it’s a genuine response of gladness to the relationship, more so than the intrinsic value of the thing itself. It was the love with which the gift was made that sparks joy in the parents. I have a few things like that from my own kids, and they’re precious to me.
Looking back on this past month, I can honestly say, “I wrote my best for him,” seeking to honor and somehow articulate the incomprehensible miracle that is Christmas. Jesus doesn’t need my pen, but I gladly give it in service to him, as I can think of nothing more incredible to write about. My earnest hope is that he was pleased with my literary drumming. (And I hope it didn’t keep baby Jesus awake!)
6. Perhaps there is one thing more incredible to write about than Christmas, and that’s the other end of Jesus’ earthly life, where on the cross something truly astonishing happened: “God made him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in him” (2 Cor 5:21). When that kairos moment took place, the veil in the temple was torn from top to bottom—a highly symbolic and theologically rich act of God that will be the focus of my dissertation. My broader work on Israel’s tabernacle has been narrowed down to explore the significance and implications of that one incredible portent at Herod’s temple in the first century. What exactly happened? Why did it happen? Why does it figure so significantly in the book of Hebrews? What does it mean for us today?
7. So, my research and writing efforts must now shift to that project during the first part of 2021. It will be labor intensive, so I need to disappear from TNL for a while—though not completely. I’ll continue posting a few things from time to time, but not as much as I have been these past several months. I’ll keep scanning my favorite blogs when I can (because I love your stuff, and it gives me hope and inspiration!), but I won’t be able to generate as much content for a while—just sermon summaries, classroom handouts, weekly songs in the sidebar, and occasional updates and fun stuff as time allows. All prayers are appreciated for this new venture, as I cannot do it alone. “No man is an island,” said John Donne, and he was right. So, thanks for your support!
I look forward to getting back in the blogging groove again after this major project is completed, and I can say with Jesus, “It is finished!”
Love to all in Jesus’ name. Be blessed on your journey in 2021.
I never know what’s going to connect during the Sunday morning message, but I’m told a certain illustration resonated today, so I’ll share it here. I was making the point that Mary likely composed the Magnificat in her head on the 90-mile journey from Nazareth to Judea, singing it to Elizabeth upon her arrival. She had several days to think about it, and now she cuts loose.
I then offered my supposition that these tremendous words (Luke 1:46-55) likely became a lullaby sung to Jesus in utero and postpartum. If so, Jesus had sacred words ingrained in him from the very beginning of his earthly life. It’s no wonder, then, that he quotes the Psalms more than once from his cross. It’s even possible he sang those words to the extent he was able—almost like a duet across the years with his mother, who’s standing there at the horrific spectacle that is Calvary.
I then reminded the folks of the song “Unforgettable,” which Natalie Cole sang with her father, long since deceased, by way of integrated video technology. The connection between father and daughter is touching (see below), and the effect is heartwarming. But even more poignant are the six hours between Mary and her Son at the cross—with the truth of the Psalms their only comfort. Jesus sings back to her now the words she sang to him from infancy. Both their lives are bookended by the Word of God.
Anyway, my mom loved “Unforgettable,” and it made me think about her, along with a lot of other unforgettable people I’ve known throughout my life—some I still get to see and others who, sadly, are no longer part of the story. That can do interesting things to one’s emotions, so it’s kind of a mellow night here as the weekend winds down.
I’m curling up with a tall mug of hot chocolate and whipped cream, watching Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye in their classic White Christmas. “If only in my dreams” is the operative phrase in the tear-jerking song that took the world by storm nearly eight decades ago. Thankfully, because of the real Christmas, all great dreams come true in the end. My emotions will catch up to this good news in time. Joy comes in the morning.
It’s not uncommon to have a blue Christmas in a fallen world. We’ve all been there. The empty chair at Chritmas dinner because of sickness or death. The sparse gifts under the tree because of unemployment. The stab of holiday depression because of failure, setback, shame, or some kind of chemical imbalance. It’s hard to have a “holly jolly” when you’re sitting in the sad seat. Or the sick seat. It’s even worse when everyone else around you doesn’t seem to have a care in the world.
But this year seems different. Harder. Stranger. Almost apocalyptic. Farmers tell us manure is great when it’s spread around, but we all know it just stinks to high heaven when it’s all piled up in one place. For many people, 2020 has been that kind of a year, and it’s taken its toll. We’re physically drained and emotionally fatigued. With 20 days left in 2020, we wonder what else can go wrong. Hitherto we’ve lived through:
The Australian bushfires
Prince Harry and Megan quitting the royal family
The COVID-19 pandemic and its many lockdowns
Kobe Bryant and his daughter killed in a helicopter crash
The impeachment trial of the President of the United States
The stock market crash and record unemployment
The George Floyd tragedy and the resulting protests
Rumors that Kim Jun Un, the leader of North Korea, had died
Widesperad censorship and hostility on social media
Manipulation of the masses by Big Tech and a corrupt media
A bitter and still unresolved U.S. Presidential election
Outrage at politicians ignoring their own pandemic restrictions
The arrival of murder hornets to the United States
A massive explosion in the capital of Lebanon
Severe wildfires on the West Coast of the United States
The death of U.S. Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg
U.S. President Donald Trump testing positive for COVID-19
The death of Sean Connery, Eddie Van Halen, Alex Trebek, and many others
And those are just the big things we know about. Your family can probably add to the list. Maybe you’ve had your own disappointments, tears, and heartbreaks this year. Maybe you’ve been bedridden, hospitalized, quarantined, or out of work because of the virus. Maybe you’ve felt the sting of your own unmet expectations. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life” (Prov 13:12). Some of us are still waiting for that tree of life, aren’t we?
God cares.
That’s why he came to us on that first Christmas. God in Christ didn’t avoid the miseries of this world. Rather, he entered into them, experienced them firsthand, and then swallowed them up. He’s coming again someday to make all things new. In the meantime, we can count on his lavishing love to carry us through the hard times.
Have a good cry if you need to. “Blessed are those who mourn,” said Jesus. He should know. Christ had tears streaming down his own cheeks on more than one occasion. He was “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.” So, you’re in good company if you “lose it” once in a while. It’s o.k. to not be o.k. for a season. After all, it’s only a season. “Joy comes in the morning.” So, dare to cling to hope, too. And let Hope himself cling to you. The Christmas manger leads to an empty tomb.
Here are three songs for when you’re singing Christmas in a minor key—two by Casting Crowns and one by Francesca Battistelli. Let them flow like liquid love over your aching heart. And feel free to contact This New Life if you have a special prayer request this time of year. You are loved. And you are not alone.
“Somewhere in Your Silent Night” by Casting Crowns
Somewhere in your silent night Heaven hears the song your broken heart has cried Hope is here, just lift your head For love has come to find you Somewhere in your silent night
“I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” by Casting Crowns
Then rang the bells more loud and deep God is not dead, nor does he sleep The wrong shall fail, the right prevail With peace on earth, good will to men
“Behold Him” by Francesca Battistelli
In your silent night When you’re not all right Lift your eyes and behold him Feel the thrill of hope You are not alone In this moment, behold him
A light snow has dusted southcentral Pennsylvania today, and it looks like shoveling will not be necessary. (I’m o.k. with that!) Is there anything more beautiful than nature’s white blanket covering our dead and dying trees and foliage? Isaiah’s image comes to mind whenever the white stuff falls from the sky:
“Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” Isaiah 1:18b
Seven hundred years later, it all came to pass. “Call his name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins” (Matt 1:21). Christmas, then, deals a death blow to both moralism and relativism.
Moralism says we can save ourselves through our own good works. That makes Christmas unnecessary. Why would God the Son go to all the trouble of becoming a human being to live and die in our place if we could fulfill the requirements of divine righteousness ourselves? His sacrifical death on our behalf would have been totally wasted and therefore totally ridiculous.
Relativism, on the other hand, says no one is really “lost,” so we can all live by our own light and determine for ourselves what is right and wrong. Sins are self-defined, so salvation can be self-achieved. Consequently, any higher power that might exist out there never would have bothered to be incarnated. Christmas is totally unnecessary in this scenario, too.
But Christmas is a thing because we need it to be a thing. God the Son did put skin on two thousand years ago. Indeed, God ignored our silly notions of moralism and relativism and came anyway. Thank God for that! I’m looking forward to the kind of weather that allows for sleigh rides—not because I have the equipment to go dashing though the snow in such a manner. I just like to contemplate Isaiah’s image when the snow extends as far as the eye can see.
Speaking of sleigh rides, the first Christian album I ever bought after coming to faith in Christ back in college was Amy Grant’s Age to Age. Many of us went on to collect the rest of her albums, too, including her Christmas albums. Here’s a little gem of hers that gets me thinking about the joy of Christmas snow.
My mom loved the sounds of jazz and big band, and she got me interested in some of it at a young age. I still remember her jitterbugging out on the dance floor with my uncle. My dad only did the slow stuff (as do I—unless it’s “The Chicken Dance” or “The Hokey Pokey.” Those two I can handle.) Here are some of her vintage favorites, along with a few of my own from the modern era.
VINTAGE: “Jingle Bells” by Frank Sinatra
VINTAGE: “Rockin’ around the Christmas Tree” by Brenda Lee
VINTAGE: “Frosty the Snowman” by Ella Fitzgerald
VINTAGE: “Let it Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!” by Dean Martin
MODERN: “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” by Eva Celia
MODERN: “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” by Haley Reinhart and Casey Abrams
MODERN: “We Three Kings” by Wynton Marshalls and the Lincoln Center Orchestra
The overarching theme of Advent is the coming of Christ, both in the manger at Bethlehem and in the clouds of glory at the end of the age. As such, Charles Wesley’s adaptation of John Cennick’s “Lo, He Comes with Clouds Descending” has become a standard Advent hymn in our day, though I think it is largely underutilized.
The piece is both pensive and soaring, especially those arrangements that feature a descant on the final stanza. Evangelical congregations typically use the Regent Square tune (“Angels from the Realms of Glory”), while high churches often use the Helmsley tune, which is the one featured in the video below.
The benefit of having an eclectic musical taste is that I get to experience and appreciate a wide range of musical expressions—sacred or otherwise. When I was in Oxford last year, I “got my inner Anglican on” by participating in two Evensong services, both of which were astoundingly beautiful, not to mention food for the soul. So, yes, I can swing from Hillsong to Evensong with no heartburn at all. In fact, I rather enjoy the adventure.
Moreover, variety is a great “rut buster,” so tomorrow I’ll share some Christmas jazz tunes I’ve been listening to lately. On this Second Sunday of Advent, however, we’ll stick with the sacred. Enjoy the choir of Lichfield Cathedral singing this lovely Advent meditation. All pictures are from their cathedral in Staffordshire, England.
Lo, He comes with clouds descending, Once for favoured sinners slain; Thousand thousand saints attending Swell the triumph of His train: Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia! God appears on earth to reign.
Every eye shall now behold Him Robed in dreadful majesty; Those who set at naught and sold Him, Pierced and nailed Him to the tree, Deeply wailing, deeply wailing, deeply wailing, Shall the true Messiah see.
Those dear tokens of His passion Still his dazzling body bears, Cause of endless exultation To His ransomed worshippers: With what rapture, with what rapture, with what rapture, Gaze we on those glorious scars!
Yea, Amen, let all adore thee, High on Thine eternal throne; Saviour, take the power and glory, Claim the kingdom for Thine own: Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia! Thou shalt reign and Thou alone.
I am who I AM made me to be—a human being loved by God and created in his image.
The challenge, of course, is to align our thinking to this reality on a regular basis. To do so is an act of faith. And a declaration of war against the father of lies.
Image Credit: militarybenefits.info; Leonardo da Vinci; Tim Valentino.
Here’s another Advent gem that we sang this morning—Michael Card’s “Immanuel.” I never make it through this one, either, without breaking down at some point. It’s simple, tender, and true. Above all, it’s filled with hope for those of us who know we’re broken deep down and stand in need of a Savior.
Below is a rendition by a collection of school choirs from Cheshire and the Wirral (a peninsula in North West England) joining their voices in Chester Cathedral to celebrate the Incarnation and the Epiphany. A wonderful song is made even more special by the young voices who sing it. The opening line is from Isaiah 7:14, the famous prophecy about a virginal conception and the surprising name given to the resulting child.
im = the Hebrew word for “with” anu = the Hebrew word for “us” El = a shortened form of the Hebrew word Elohim, “God”
Jesus is the “with-us God.” And if God is with us, who can stand against us? Be blessed by this choral arrangement of Michael Card’s modern classic—especially if you’ve stumbled in the darkness. We’re the reason he came.
IMMANUEL
A sign shall be given A virgin will conceive A human baby bearing Undiminished deity The Glory of the nations A Light for all to see And Hope for all who will embrace His warm reality
Chorus
Immanuel, our God is with us And if God is with us Who could stand against us? Our God is with us, Immanuel
For all those who live in the shadow of death A glorious Light has dawned For all those who stumble in the darkness Behold your Light has come
So, what will be your answer; O will you hear the call? Of Him who did not spare His Son, But gave Him for us all On earth there is no power, There is no depth or height That could ever separate us from The love of God in Christ
Time to go set up some more Christmas trees. They’re beautiful reminders that “a glorious Light has dawned.”
The Incarnation sends my heart and mind into orbit every year. That’s why I’m glad we have an entire season of the church calendar to reflect on it. There’s no way to fully plumb its depths with these finite minds of ours. I started writing some Christmas devotional pieces for later this month, and the waterworks have already begun. Good music only makes it worse. Often I can do little more than just put my pen down and throw my hands up in gratitude and awe. That God should become one of us in the person of Christ is sheer mystery wrapped in divine love. The same is true for the second coming of Christ, to which the season of Advent also points.
As we do every year, we’re singing Charles Wesley’s classic, “Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus,” to kick off the new church year. It would be difficult to find a better selection. Wesley wrote this Advent hymn and had it printed in his Hymns for the Nativity of our Lord in 1744. Like so many of his texts, this piece alludes to one or more Scripture passages in nearly every phrase. Moreover, the double nature of Advent is reflected in these lyrics, remembering Christ’s first coming even while anticipating his return.
Stanzas 1 and 2 (which form verse 1 in most of today’s hymnals) recall messianic prophecies from the Old Testament. Stanza 3 speaks of Christ’s birth and kingdom, and stanza 4 functions as a plea for Christ to rule in our hearts.
Come, thou long expected Jesus, Born to set thy people free; From our fears and sins release us, Let us find our rest in thee. Israel’s strength and consolation, Hope of all the earth thou art; Dear desire of every nation, Joy of every longing heart.
Born thy people to deliver, Born a child and yet a King, Born to reign in us forever, Now thy gracious kingdom bring. By thine own eternal spirit Rule in all our hearts alone; By thine all sufficient merit, Raise us to thy glorious throne.
Wesley was the eighteenth child (and youngest son) of Samuel and Susanna Wesley. He was born at Epworth Rectory on December 18, 1707. In 1716 he went to Westminster School, being provided with room and board by his brother Samuel. He was an usher at the school until 1721, when he was elected King’s Scholar, resulting in free tuition and board. In 1726 he was elected to a Westminster studentship at Christ Church, Oxford, where he took his M.A. degree in 1729.
Charles wrote hundreds of poetic works with his brother John, the famous revivalist and founder of Methodism. His individual hymns number well over 5,000. Among his more famous today are:
1738 And Can It Be? 1739 Jesus, Lover of My Soul 1739 Christ the Lord Is Risen Today 1739 Hark! the Herald Angels Sing 1749 O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing
Which is your favorite? I for one could sing “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today” every other Sunday and not get tired of it! Jesus was not only the child born to die, he was the child born to rise again! Charles Wesley himself was “raised” to Christ’s “glorious throne” on March 29, 1788. The Spirit of God left his mark on this servant, and he in turn left his mark on us.
A few weeks ago I was driving to the Lebanon YMCA for a morning swim. I usually listen to upbeat music to get jazzed up for my workout, letting the tunes take over where the coffee left off. On this particular day, my Spotify randomizer took me to a song called, “Dynamite,” which I had never heard before. I was digging it and thought, “When I get home I need to research who does that one.”
Turns out I was listening to BTS, a K-pop (or Korean pop) group made up of seven members (Jin, Suga, J-Hope, RM, Jimin, V, and Jungkook) who come from various parts of South Korea. I WAS LISTENING TO A KOREAN BOY BAND…and kinda liking it!
Naturally, I started wondering what was happening to me. (“Really, Tim? A boy band?”) My solace came in the realization that: (1) BTS launched in 2013 and has since rocketed to global stardom, so they must have some real musical chops and showmanship; and (2) Spotify was throwing random workout songs my way; I didn’t go looking for this one myself. Small comfort.
So, I guess this post is more of a confession than a “Friday Fun” spot. Either way, enjoy the song if you’d like. I’m going swimming.
Do I detect some choreographic allusions to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video in this dance routine?
