Suffering and praise

After James 5:13-20 

Do you suffer?

Sing praise!

Do you ail in body

or heart? Sing

praise! Do you

hurt? Is your

heart sick?

Sing praise!

 

Praise is not

the first thing

we think of

when we’re sick,

when we suffer.

But to sing praise

is an act of

submission,

acknowledging

the One,

celebrating

the One, even

as we suffer.

He is there.

His is always

there.

 

Photograph by Road Trip with Raj via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

“Balloon Flower,” poem by Claudia Lee Hae-in – D.S. Martin at Kingdom Poets.

 

You Can Forgive Someone and Still Lock the Door – Lara d’Entremont at A Mother Held.

 

“Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken,” hymn by John Newtson – Anthony Esolen at Word & Sing.

 

“The Book of the World,” poem by William Drummond of Hawthornden – Sally Thomas at Poems Ancient and Modern.

A plea

After Psalm 51 

He pleads to hear

God’s joy and gladness,

the rejoining of broken

bones, hiding his face,

blotting out iniquities,

creation of a clean heart,

renewing a right spirit

within, returning home

from exile and 

abandonment, restoring

to joy, upholding him

willingly, delivering

him from judgment, 

a tongue to sing

of righteousness,

opening his lips

to praise.

 

Photograph by Buse Doga Ay via Unsplash. Used with permission.

The song

After Psalms 33:4-5 and 100 

I hear the earth

singing, I hear

the earth serving

with one voice,

I hear the earth

worshipping, I hear

the songs of thanksgiving,

the songs of praise.

I am singing.

I am serving.

I am worshipping.

I am serving.

Through the gates

I walk, singing.

In his courts,

I stand, singing.

I stand singing

with a voice

of thanksgiving

of his faithfulness.

He loves forever.

He is faithful,

forever.

 

Photograph by Keegan Henman via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

The Winds Blow Hardest Against the Tallest Trees – Tim Challies.

 

Every Pinch of Pain Has Purpose – John Piper at Desiring God.

 

Next Easter, Just Preach the Gospel – Robb Brunansky ay The Cripplegate.

 

He turns his face

After Psalm 67 

He turns his face

towards us, staring

directly into our eyes,

our souls, our hearts.

He gets in our faces,

placing his hands

on our heads, staring

and saying he loves us,

he cherishes us, he knows

all our faults, our sins,

and what matters

is his love for us,

once lost, now found.

 

Photograph by William Carlson via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

Balrog on the Bridge: Cultivating the Courage of Gandalf – Clinton Manley at Desiring God.

 

“Sailing to Byzantium,” poem by William Butler Yeats – Joseph Bottum at Poems Ancient and Modern.

 

Helene Binet at St. Anne’s Limehouse – photographs at Spitalfields Life.

 

Blessing for Different Sounds – poem by David Whyte.

 

Two Owls – pome by Josiah Cox at First Things Magazine.

Sing a new / old song

After Psalm 67 

Sing a new song

sing a new song

   may you be gracious

 

Sing an old song

sing a new song

   may you bless us

 

Sing a new song

sing an old

   may your face shine

   shine upon us

 

It rises, a chorus

of praise, ringed

in gladness, in joy,

un expectation

of justice, of guidance,

of blessing and increase

 

We are blessed

so that those

around us

will see him.

 

Photograph by Austin Neill via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

The Latecomers – poem by Seamus Heaney at Kingdom Poets (D.S. Martin).

 

Life is Too Brief to Waste – Jon Bloom at Desiring God.

 

Why Church Membership Matters – Alistair Begg at Truth for Life.

 

What Does God Listen For? – Seth Lewis.

 

King Jan Sobieski of Poland and The Lord of the Rings – Dwight Longenecker at The Imaginative Conservative.

Prayer first, then...

After Acts 4:23-31

Released by the rulers,

they report to friends

what has happened.

The voices rise and

join together, lifting

a psalm of praise.

   The Gentiles rage

   the peoples plot in vain

   the kings and rulers

   set themselves against

   the Lord and His anointed.

They raise the psalm

in the web of what

has happened.

They raised the psalm

in the hope of what

will come.

They raised the psalm

on the expectation of what

will heal, and what

signs, wonders, and miracles

will occur.

And they hear the wind,

they feel the shaking,

they experience the filling.

Photograph by Jay Wennington via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Hands

After Psalm 95

Lifted: our hands wave,

His hand wraps the earth.

Lifted: our hands applaud,

His hands shape mountains.

Lifted: our hands clasp together,

His hands scoop the seas.

Lifted: our hands stretch upward,

His hands sculpt the land.

Lifted: our hands reach.

His hands touch.

Lifted: Our hands fold in prayer,

His hands wrap ours.

Photograph by Akira Hojo via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Cymbals, drums, hands

After Psalm 95

It is the noise we hear

first, a joyful noise,

punctuated with cymbals,

drums, hands, and other

instruments of worship,

orchestrated together as

an act, a declaration, 

a hymn of thanksgiving,

a hymn of profound praise,

as entrance is gained

to the presence, an instance

of celebration, an eruption

of celebration, unlike

what has been known, like

what will be known

forevermore.

Photograph by Anthony Delanoix via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Where to turn

After Psalm 146

Exit the graveyard,

leaving stones and monuments

behind, weathering.

Consider the life surrounding,

that formed from nothing,

created from the formless and void. 

Consider the author,

relieving the oppressed,

freeing the imprisoned,

giving sight to the blind,

lifting the downtrodden,

sustaining the orphan,

caring for the alien.

Consider the author

of all of this, all of these.

Blessed is he,

blessed is he who considers

the author of all of this,

the author of all of these.

Photograph by Echo Grid via Unsplash. Used with permission.

“Praise: Poems” by Mary Harwell Sayler

Up to a third or more of the Bible is written as poetry, mostly in the Old Testament and certain quoted passages in the New Testament. While the single largest “block” of poetry is the Book of Psalms, one can also find poetry in the prophets, Genesis, Exodus, Judges, the history books of Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles, and several others.

The Song of Solomon, one of the earliest love poems, notwithstanding, the poetry of the Bible generally focuses on praise. The reasons for praise are many and varied, but the poetry is largely poetry of praise. Consider the picture of ancient Hebrews reciting poems and singing songs of praise to their God, often in the midst of terrible trials and upheavals.

So it is with Mary Harwell Sayler’s new poetry collection, Praise. These poems are not all about thanksgiving, but have a broader reach and purpose. As Sayler says in the introduction, “Praise focuses in Who God is, more than what God does. Praise pours out our love to the Lord.”

The collection of 72 is divided into six parts – praise, prayers, Easter, creation, wonder, and Christmas. And they are indeed a pouring out love for who God is. These aren’t poems about deliverance from trials. The focus is more eternal than transient.

Praise Christ Our Body—

Who holds us together

in cell and membrane,

tissue and blood,

tendon and tears.

Praise Christ Whose Body

embraces

each part of us—

an ear, an eye, a knee,

a scalp, a head of hair

with each curl counted.

Praise Christ Who gave

His Body and

welcomes each one of us—

Into the Body of Christ,

the Church—

To work, to play

and pray together,

to love and forgive,

to worship as One Being

the Lord we adore.

Mary Harrell Sayler

As in this example, Sayler consciously incorporates the title into each poem, and that’s part of her purpose here – creating contemporary psalms. “Instead of titling them with sequential numbers, as later editors had done to identify the biblical Psalms, the first line of each poem became its title and an integral part of its reading,” she says.

Sayler has published more than 2,000 poems in a wide array of publications ranging from magazines and e-zines, anthologies, journals, and church publications. She has five poetry collections, including Living in the Nature Poem (2012); Outside Eden (2014); Beach Songs and Wood Chimes (2014); Faces in a Crowd (2016); and Praise. She’s written three books on writing, and maintains several blogs, including The Poetry Editor and Poetry.

Praise achieves what it sets out to do – its poems individually and collectively pour out love for who God is.

Related:

My review of Living in the Nature Poem.

My review of Christian Writer’s Guide.

My review of Faces in a Crowd.

Top photograph by Andrew Small via Unsplash.

Acknowledging Daily Mercies? What?

Reading The Hidden Life of Prayer: The Life Blood of the Christian by David McIntyre, I ran smack into some old-fashioned language (the work was first published in 1893). As I considered the meaning of the words, I began to understand how we can lose meaning when we change language. And language has changed a lot since 1893.

McIntyre is discussing prayer, and specifically the role of praise in prayer. And this is what he writes:

“…the tribute of praise which the saints are instructed to render to the Lord may arise either (a) in the acknowledgement of daily mercies, or (b) in thanks-giving for the great redemption, or (c) in contemplation of the divine perfection.”

Here’s how a contemporary English translation might say it:

“We’re told to give praise for three possible reasons: blessings, thanks for salvation, and/or worship.”

Both mean essentially the same thing, but consider what is lost in the contemporary version.

That praise is tribute.

That we are the saints.

That we are instructed to offer.

That we should acknowledge mercies from God.

That mercies are daily.

That thanks-giving is not a noun but an action verb (it’s hyphenated).

That salvation is a “great redemption.”

That worship is a contemplation – a deep thinking.

That what we are to contemplate is a “divine perfection.” (And McIntyre capitalizes “Divine” because it is a placeholder word for God. Think how common it is for us to lowercase “he” and “him” when we refer to God.)

Reading that short passage, and thinking about it, I was rather stunned. I began to think about all the other things we do – things other than our utilitarian, socially-mediated language – that loses meaning and a sense of awe.

Because that is what McIntyre is communicating – that praise is a form of awe.

Over at Informing the Reforming, Tim Challies is leading a discussion of The Hidden Life of Prayer. Please visit the site to see what’s happening the comments.