Thursday, July 18, 2013
Sunday, March 17, 2013
The tree of life?
This tree is from a sort of nature preserve where I used to live. I can't tell you why I get such a sense of power from it. It's sort of in the center of a little clearing, which helps to sort of showcase it.
I feel such a deep sense of peace just looking at this picture of it. I hope you do too. (Make sure you click to get the full-sized version.)
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Reminder (Ash Wednesday)
You are dust
of light, and life,
of days past and forgotten worlds,
of the stars and of all you see and
don’t see;
you are formed of these things and they
are formed of you.
We all are one voice;
we sing of one history, one present,
one future:
all are one and the same
and the Lord is the light of us all.
Through time we were compiled
of the dust of ages,
all that ever was or ever will be,
made in his image,
and we dream of light,
and eternity is in our eyes.
You are of this dust,
and to this dust you shall return--
Alleluia!
The Law of the Conservation of Mass says that matter is neither created nor destroyed. This means that from the time there was anything, anything that is, existed. The matter that comprises you was there, and that of every rock, tree, animal, star, comet, cloud of gas... all present. Some day you will die, and "to dust you will return." And that is not the end. Some day this matter will become something else-- another living being, or star, or comet. And this process goes on until the end of time. What do you suppose your matter once was? What do you suppose it will be again some day?
Our reminder on this day is, you are dust, and to dust you will return. It is meant to humble us. It is also uplifting: you are a part of all he has made, from the tiniest quark to the most massive galaxies; from the darkest black hole to the brightest star, and everything in between. We are nothing, and we are everything. The stars are our family. And God created us all. We are the children of the creator of all that is, seen and unseen, known and unknown. We are made of the dust that has existed for all time. When we know this, is there anything we can't believe that we can do or be? Alleluia, indeed. :)
Sunday, April 8, 2012
I Will Rise
There's a peace I've come to know,
Though my heart and flesh may fail;
There's an anchor for my soul--
I can say "It is well."
Jesus has overcome,
And the grave is overwhelmed!
The victory is won;
He is risen from the dead!
And I will rise when He calls my name--
No more sorrow, no more pain.
I will rise on eagles' wings,
Before my God, fall on my knees,
And rise...
I will rise!
There's a day that's drawing near,
When this darkness breaks to light,
And the shadows disappear,
And my faith shall be my eyes.
Jesus has overcome,
And the grave is overwhelmed!
The victory is won;
He is risen from the dead!
And I will rise when He calls my name--
No more sorrow, no more pain.
I will rise on eagles' wings,
Before my God fall on my knees,
And rise...
I will rise!
And I hear the voice of many angels sing:
"Worthy is the Lamb!"
And I hear the cry of every longing heart:
"Worthy is the Lamb!"
And I will rise when He calls my name--
No more sorrow, no more pain.
I will rise on eagles' wings,
Before my God fall on my knees,
And rise...
I will rise!
(Chris Tomlin,Jesse Reeves, Matt Maher, Louie Giglio)
Two versions (choir version arranged by Craig Courtney and Lynda Hasseler):
First
Second
Though my heart and flesh may fail;
There's an anchor for my soul--
I can say "It is well."
Jesus has overcome,
And the grave is overwhelmed!
The victory is won;
He is risen from the dead!
And I will rise when He calls my name--
No more sorrow, no more pain.
I will rise on eagles' wings,
Before my God, fall on my knees,
And rise...
I will rise!
There's a day that's drawing near,
When this darkness breaks to light,
And the shadows disappear,
And my faith shall be my eyes.
Jesus has overcome,
And the grave is overwhelmed!
The victory is won;
He is risen from the dead!
And I will rise when He calls my name--
No more sorrow, no more pain.
I will rise on eagles' wings,
Before my God fall on my knees,
And rise...
I will rise!
And I hear the voice of many angels sing:
"Worthy is the Lamb!"
And I hear the cry of every longing heart:
"Worthy is the Lamb!"
And I will rise when He calls my name--
No more sorrow, no more pain.
I will rise on eagles' wings,
Before my God fall on my knees,
And rise...
I will rise!
(Chris Tomlin,Jesse Reeves, Matt Maher, Louie Giglio)
Two versions (choir version arranged by Craig Courtney and Lynda Hasseler):
First
Second
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Eschatology
Eschatology
You are of dust
From a million miles distant;
All through the universe you had your birth
And the stars, your bright siblings
Sing hymns with one voice--
A choir you must join, of life and light.
Look up now, and view your eternity
In innumerable pinpoints of light that call you home,
And know that out there,
The darkness just heralds the genesis of light.
You are of dust, and to dust you will return;
You are of light, and to light you must be restored,
At the end of our age, flung free
To the unmeasurable heavens
To become again, throughout time,
World without end, amen.
copyright 10/31/2011
You are of dust
From a million miles distant;
All through the universe you had your birth
And the stars, your bright siblings
Sing hymns with one voice--
A choir you must join, of life and light.
Look up now, and view your eternity
In innumerable pinpoints of light that call you home,
And know that out there,
The darkness just heralds the genesis of light.
You are of dust, and to dust you will return;
You are of light, and to light you must be restored,
At the end of our age, flung free
To the unmeasurable heavens
To become again, throughout time,
World without end, amen.
copyright 10/31/2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
There For Me
Yet another song I've changed the words to.
There's this guy at my church who has a fantastic voice and I'd love to sing with him. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be too much out there in the way of religious music for male/female duet, short of "The Prayer."
So, here I am, changing around words again. This is a rewording for the song "There For Me," originally sung by Josh Groban and Sarah Brightman, written by Angelo La Bionda, Carmelo La Bionda and Charly Ricanek (this guy I want to sing with sounds a bit like Josh but I have to admit I sound NOTHING like Sarah. Oh well). As always, I'm not trying to steal anything from anybody or yada yada, simply taking music I like and adding words that will actually allow me to use it.
Here's a link to Josh and Sarah on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtoNpI3gq-c
And here are my words:
Her:
There for me, Father, everywhere I go
Will you be there for me, will your love for me always grow?
Your child I long to be; you’re the only truth I know
Will you be there for me?
Whatever life shall give, in brightest joy or deepest pain
Please help me learn to live, will rainbows always follow rain?
I need you close to me, so close to me
Just hold me!
Him:
Lord of all, I lift my eyes up to the hills,
Come into my heart and show me how to do your will.
The road is long and lonely; I can’t find my way all on my own
Please lead me home.
Both:
Will you be there for me, whenever I lose my way
Will you be there for me, walking with me every day
Will you abide with me, do you hear each word I pray,
Will you be there for me?
Her:
I need you close to me, so close to me
Stay near me!
Him:
I know that you promised that you always would be mine
And that you’d be with us ‘til the end of time
Now I know you’re near us through the shadows of the darkest night
And bringing light!
Both:
Will you be there for me, Lord I need to feel your touch
Oh please be there for me, I long to hear your voice so much
I now have faith to see your child I will always be
And you’ll be there for me!
There's this guy at my church who has a fantastic voice and I'd love to sing with him. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be too much out there in the way of religious music for male/female duet, short of "The Prayer."
So, here I am, changing around words again. This is a rewording for the song "There For Me," originally sung by Josh Groban and Sarah Brightman, written by Angelo La Bionda, Carmelo La Bionda and Charly Ricanek (this guy I want to sing with sounds a bit like Josh but I have to admit I sound NOTHING like Sarah. Oh well). As always, I'm not trying to steal anything from anybody or yada yada, simply taking music I like and adding words that will actually allow me to use it.
Here's a link to Josh and Sarah on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtoNpI3gq-c
And here are my words:
Her:
There for me, Father, everywhere I go
Will you be there for me, will your love for me always grow?
Your child I long to be; you’re the only truth I know
Will you be there for me?
Whatever life shall give, in brightest joy or deepest pain
Please help me learn to live, will rainbows always follow rain?
I need you close to me, so close to me
Just hold me!
Him:
Lord of all, I lift my eyes up to the hills,
Come into my heart and show me how to do your will.
The road is long and lonely; I can’t find my way all on my own
Please lead me home.
Both:
Will you be there for me, whenever I lose my way
Will you be there for me, walking with me every day
Will you abide with me, do you hear each word I pray,
Will you be there for me?
Her:
I need you close to me, so close to me
Stay near me!
Him:
I know that you promised that you always would be mine
And that you’d be with us ‘til the end of time
Now I know you’re near us through the shadows of the darkest night
And bringing light!
Both:
Will you be there for me, Lord I need to feel your touch
Oh please be there for me, I long to hear your voice so much
I now have faith to see your child I will always be
And you’ll be there for me!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
I am inspired by the Carmina Gadelica. It is a compendium of Christian prayers, poems, songs, etc. gathered by Alexander Carmichael in Scotland in the late 1800s through early 1900s.
This is one of my favorite prayers from it (someday I may set it to music if I ever get all of my current works-in-progress off my plate).
God, bless to me this day,
God, bless to me this night;
Bless, O bless. Thou God of grace,
Each day and hour of my life;
Bless, O bless. Thou God of grace.
Each day and hour of my life.
God, bless the pathway on which I go,
God, bless the earth that is beneath my sole;
Bless, O God, and give to me Thy love,
O God of gods, bless my rest and my repose;
Bless, O God, and give to me Thy love,
And bless, O God of gods, my repose.
You can find the Carmina Gadelica here at the Internet Sacred Text Archive:
http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/cg.htm
This is one of my favorite prayers from it (someday I may set it to music if I ever get all of my current works-in-progress off my plate).
God, bless to me this day,
God, bless to me this night;
Bless, O bless. Thou God of grace,
Each day and hour of my life;
Bless, O bless. Thou God of grace.
Each day and hour of my life.
God, bless the pathway on which I go,
God, bless the earth that is beneath my sole;
Bless, O God, and give to me Thy love,
O God of gods, bless my rest and my repose;
Bless, O God, and give to me Thy love,
And bless, O God of gods, my repose.
You can find the Carmina Gadelica here at the Internet Sacred Text Archive:
http://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/cg.htm
Thursday, November 11, 2010
04/06/2010
She’d gone to the grave. She didn’t stay long; not as long as she had intended when she set out early that morning. She’d gone there slowly; she had a purpose in going, but weighed down with grief as she was, her feet would only take dragging steps. She dreaded to see what she knew she would find there, as if seeing would make it real, and there are times in one’s life when the sorrow is so dark and desperate that delaying the reality is attractive. She knew he was gone—she’d been there through the bitter end--only she didn’t want to bear witness to his loss, not yet. But she also longed to see him, to touch him, even just this one last time.
She’d gone there slowly, but returned running as fast as her legs could carry her, and wishing she could fly, to go that much faster.
When she first saw what had happened to the grave, she wanted to run right then. How can anguish heap upon anguish; how can an already-dark night grow even more chill and ominous? To lose that person dearer to one’s heart than life itself, and then the desecration of a tomb…it was almost more than she could bear. But she loved him, and so she had to go look, she had to know, she had to try to make sense of the senseless.
The ice that seemed to surround her entire body as she edged close to the defiled grave cannot be fathomed; it is the ice of a deep winter that does not end, of hope that does not grow. Yes, it was as she had feared. How and why had this happened?
A man stood nearby. She did not want to speak to him; she did not trust that any sound would come from her throat. But he might know, so she approached him gingerly and tugged his sleeve. He turned, and though his face was kind, she could not say why she was suddenly so terrified. But for the sake of the one she loved, she drew up her courage and asked her question, hoping this man would have an answer.
The answer came in his utterance of her name, of a sudden blinding flame that seized her body from the inside out, and the endless ice that had formerly held her did not melt but seemed to explode, as she knew. Her legs failed her—indeed, it felt like every organ in her body did—and she fell to her knees, weeping tears that streamed from her eyes as abundantly as the blood had flowed from his ravaged body only days before. She reached for him, but he stopped her with a few gentle words and a loving outstretched hand that did not quite touch her. And without knowing how, she found herself vertical and running for all she was worth, longing for wings because what she had to tell could not wait for the slowness of mortal feet. Why had she not believed until that day? Why had none of them believed? Why had she gone to the tomb with spices for a body that would never need them? She laughed jubilantly, knowing she would never doubt again.
She arrived in the town looking like a madwoman, her clothing indecorously mussed, her headcovering lost somewhere on the road and her hair flying like a wild lion’s mane, her eyes blazing. No wonder they did not believe her when she told them. But they would. Oh, they would, for they too would see him and then they would know.
She’d gone to the grave. She’d gone there cold and dead as stone. She returned more full of life than she’d ever thought possible.
She’d gone to the grave. She didn’t stay long. How could she remain in a tomb where he had not?
For as long as she lived, until the faithful servant returned to the loving master with joy, the fire did not leave her eyes.
Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. 8Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her.
--John 20:1-18 (NRSV)
(Sorta a rough draft. Yes, I've taken some poetic license as it's not 100% true to Scripture. I cried as I wrote this, and tears still well up just about every time I read it.)
She’d gone there slowly, but returned running as fast as her legs could carry her, and wishing she could fly, to go that much faster.
When she first saw what had happened to the grave, she wanted to run right then. How can anguish heap upon anguish; how can an already-dark night grow even more chill and ominous? To lose that person dearer to one’s heart than life itself, and then the desecration of a tomb…it was almost more than she could bear. But she loved him, and so she had to go look, she had to know, she had to try to make sense of the senseless.
The ice that seemed to surround her entire body as she edged close to the defiled grave cannot be fathomed; it is the ice of a deep winter that does not end, of hope that does not grow. Yes, it was as she had feared. How and why had this happened?
A man stood nearby. She did not want to speak to him; she did not trust that any sound would come from her throat. But he might know, so she approached him gingerly and tugged his sleeve. He turned, and though his face was kind, she could not say why she was suddenly so terrified. But for the sake of the one she loved, she drew up her courage and asked her question, hoping this man would have an answer.
The answer came in his utterance of her name, of a sudden blinding flame that seized her body from the inside out, and the endless ice that had formerly held her did not melt but seemed to explode, as she knew. Her legs failed her—indeed, it felt like every organ in her body did—and she fell to her knees, weeping tears that streamed from her eyes as abundantly as the blood had flowed from his ravaged body only days before. She reached for him, but he stopped her with a few gentle words and a loving outstretched hand that did not quite touch her. And without knowing how, she found herself vertical and running for all she was worth, longing for wings because what she had to tell could not wait for the slowness of mortal feet. Why had she not believed until that day? Why had none of them believed? Why had she gone to the tomb with spices for a body that would never need them? She laughed jubilantly, knowing she would never doubt again.
She arrived in the town looking like a madwoman, her clothing indecorously mussed, her headcovering lost somewhere on the road and her hair flying like a wild lion’s mane, her eyes blazing. No wonder they did not believe her when she told them. But they would. Oh, they would, for they too would see him and then they would know.
She’d gone to the grave. She’d gone there cold and dead as stone. She returned more full of life than she’d ever thought possible.
She’d gone to the grave. She didn’t stay long. How could she remain in a tomb where he had not?
For as long as she lived, until the faithful servant returned to the loving master with joy, the fire did not leave her eyes.
Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. 8Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her.
--John 20:1-18 (NRSV)
(Sorta a rough draft. Yes, I've taken some poetic license as it's not 100% true to Scripture. I cried as I wrote this, and tears still well up just about every time I read it.)
"You Raise Me Up"
I do have this tendency to take songs I like the music of and fitting my own words to them that have more meaning for me. "You Raise Me Up" is another such of these songs. The original words are by Brendan Graham and the music is by Rolf Løvland. The Josh Groban version is, IMO, THE version, though I understand it was originally performed by Brian Kennedy and Secret Garden, and that version is nice too, as is the one by Celtic Woman.
Here are my verses (yes, I realize the original song has only two, but I needed to make three. If I were singing it, the middle verse would likely be the one omitted)
Your strength and love surround me like an ocean
Your world extends far as the eye can see
You give me life, Redeemer and Creator (or, and reason for living)
Your grace and truth and light set my soul free
There is no light, no light without the darkness
There is no joy if there no sorrow be
There is no love, no love if there’s no passion
And without you, there cannot be a me
And when the darkness threatens to enfold me
And my way lies before me unclearly
You pick me up with arms as strong as thunder
And in your love you safely carry me
Here are my verses (yes, I realize the original song has only two, but I needed to make three. If I were singing it, the middle verse would likely be the one omitted)
Your strength and love surround me like an ocean
Your world extends far as the eye can see
You give me life, Redeemer and Creator (or, and reason for living)
Your grace and truth and light set my soul free
There is no light, no light without the darkness
There is no joy if there no sorrow be
There is no love, no love if there’s no passion
And without you, there cannot be a me
And when the darkness threatens to enfold me
And my way lies before me unclearly
You pick me up with arms as strong as thunder
And in your love you safely carry me
Over The Lake
7/21/2005
I stand on the pier, looking out over the water that appears to have no end, looking at what seems to me to be forever.
I close my eyes and feel the wind and rain against my face, experience the power of this feeling.
The words "our Father..." come to my mind, but I get no further than that. Just standing here feels like its own prayer.
For those few moments, I am the only person in the world--just me and my Lord. When I open my eyes the light is brighter than I'd expected and I'm half-surprised to see that the lake is still there, stretched endlessly toward the horizon.
I want to stay here in this magic for I-don't-know-how-long. But I begin moving again and as I reach land, I leap into the sand and walk to the water's edge, feeling the deep need to connect to the cold of the water that is his symbol of life. I stand on one foot, holding out the toes of first one foot for a few moments and then the other, waiting for the waves to wash over them. When they do, the cold is a flash of shock, but also an affirmation and I half-wish my entire body were submerged in that life-verifying chill.
As I walk back to the sidewalk, I suddenly wish I'd let my hair free to the glory of the wind, and think I might not even much mind the tangles such an action would cause.
There are no words to describe this. There is no way to convey the deep feeling in my soul as I stand before this massive water, feeling alone and yet important and complete in front of the God who created both it and I.
I know he exists, else why would I feel this way, this quickening of breath, this sudden sense that my soul is deeper than I'd ever imagined and that my heart, which feels so heavy with things it can barely begin to comprehend and yet understands perfectly, lies far within this darkness-yet-light as my body struggles to contain the largeness of that space?
Why else does it hurt, as though I'm too small, yet large enough to hold the universe and its love and its soul and its force and its continuity... all that ever was or ever will be lies in this moment, as I commune with the One who is in, and in fact is, everything, everywhere, at every time. God has risen up within me and I within him and it's all too much to be expressed in words. The only way I can find to communicate is the easiest--and also the most complex: my heart to his spirit, where words fail but wonder and praise and love will never pass away.
This moment will soon be gone, but I will be forever changed. And the water will still be there. So will God. So will I.
I stand on the pier, looking out over the water that appears to have no end, looking at what seems to me to be forever.
I close my eyes and feel the wind and rain against my face, experience the power of this feeling.
The words "our Father..." come to my mind, but I get no further than that. Just standing here feels like its own prayer.
For those few moments, I am the only person in the world--just me and my Lord. When I open my eyes the light is brighter than I'd expected and I'm half-surprised to see that the lake is still there, stretched endlessly toward the horizon.
I want to stay here in this magic for I-don't-know-how-long. But I begin moving again and as I reach land, I leap into the sand and walk to the water's edge, feeling the deep need to connect to the cold of the water that is his symbol of life. I stand on one foot, holding out the toes of first one foot for a few moments and then the other, waiting for the waves to wash over them. When they do, the cold is a flash of shock, but also an affirmation and I half-wish my entire body were submerged in that life-verifying chill.
As I walk back to the sidewalk, I suddenly wish I'd let my hair free to the glory of the wind, and think I might not even much mind the tangles such an action would cause.
There are no words to describe this. There is no way to convey the deep feeling in my soul as I stand before this massive water, feeling alone and yet important and complete in front of the God who created both it and I.
I know he exists, else why would I feel this way, this quickening of breath, this sudden sense that my soul is deeper than I'd ever imagined and that my heart, which feels so heavy with things it can barely begin to comprehend and yet understands perfectly, lies far within this darkness-yet-light as my body struggles to contain the largeness of that space?
Why else does it hurt, as though I'm too small, yet large enough to hold the universe and its love and its soul and its force and its continuity... all that ever was or ever will be lies in this moment, as I commune with the One who is in, and in fact is, everything, everywhere, at every time. God has risen up within me and I within him and it's all too much to be expressed in words. The only way I can find to communicate is the easiest--and also the most complex: my heart to his spirit, where words fail but wonder and praise and love will never pass away.
This moment will soon be gone, but I will be forever changed. And the water will still be there. So will God. So will I.
En Mi Corazón
I've always loved the music to the song Nella Fantasia (based on the instrumental theme Gabriel's Oboe from the movie "The Mission" [which I have not seen]), but never was very big on the words; I didn't feel they fit the music. For a long time I've wanted to write my own words, with a religious flavor, and failed. Some time in May of 2009, I gave up attempting to write the song in English, and it just flowed, with only a couple words that I had to look up in my Spanish-English dictionary to make sure they were right, and then sending it off to my partner's mum, who teaches Spanish and who corrected a few misplaced accents for me. As the movie takes place in Brazil, I always found it weird that the lyrics to this song were later written in Italian. Writing them in Spanish is, of course, still not entirely correct, but perhaps someday I'll be ambitious and try to translate it to Portuguese (which is not a language I can speak).
Here on Youtube you can listen to the song (and I do recommend listening to all three):
Sarah Brightman version
Chloe Agnew/Celtic Woman version
Paul Potts version
En Mi Corazón
En mi corazón
Yo siento un amor lindo
De Dios mi Padre y Jesús, mi amigo lo más fiel
Yo conozco el amor de Dios
Y yo tengo alegría en la luz de mi Salvador:
Su amor no sabe fin.
En mi corazón
Vive el Espíritu Santo
Mi guía en la vida y en la tormenta y la oscuridad
Yo conozco el amor de Dios
Y yo tengo alegría en la luz de mi Salvador:
Su amor no sabe fin.
En mi corazón
Yo tengo la vida eterna
Con gracia estaré con mi Señor para siempre
Yo conozco el amor de Dios
Y yo tengo alegría en la luz de mi Salvador:
Su amor no sabe fin.
And the English translation:
In My Heart
In my heart
I feel a beautiful love
From God my Father and Jesus, my most faithful friend
I know the love of God
And I have joy in the light of my Savior:
His love knows no end
In my heart
Lives the Holy Spirit
My guide in life and in the storm and in the darkness
I know the love of God
And I have joy in the light of my Savior:
His love knows no end
In my heart
I possess eternal life
With grace I will be with my Lord forever
I know the love of God
And I have joy in the light of my Savior:
His love knows no end
"Gabriel's Oboe" theme by Ennio Morricone; "Nella Fantasia" words by Chiara Ferraù
And here is my version-- I'm not that happy with the recording and I'm not a great singer, but it is heartfelt. https://www.box.com/s/a7tcmcxlmrvz8f1sohju
Here on Youtube you can listen to the song (and I do recommend listening to all three):
Sarah Brightman version
Chloe Agnew/Celtic Woman version
Paul Potts version
En Mi Corazón
En mi corazón
Yo siento un amor lindo
De Dios mi Padre y Jesús, mi amigo lo más fiel
Yo conozco el amor de Dios
Y yo tengo alegría en la luz de mi Salvador:
Su amor no sabe fin.
En mi corazón
Vive el Espíritu Santo
Mi guía en la vida y en la tormenta y la oscuridad
Yo conozco el amor de Dios
Y yo tengo alegría en la luz de mi Salvador:
Su amor no sabe fin.
En mi corazón
Yo tengo la vida eterna
Con gracia estaré con mi Señor para siempre
Yo conozco el amor de Dios
Y yo tengo alegría en la luz de mi Salvador:
Su amor no sabe fin.
And the English translation:
In My Heart
In my heart
I feel a beautiful love
From God my Father and Jesus, my most faithful friend
I know the love of God
And I have joy in the light of my Savior:
His love knows no end
In my heart
Lives the Holy Spirit
My guide in life and in the storm and in the darkness
I know the love of God
And I have joy in the light of my Savior:
His love knows no end
In my heart
I possess eternal life
With grace I will be with my Lord forever
I know the love of God
And I have joy in the light of my Savior:
His love knows no end
"Gabriel's Oboe" theme by Ennio Morricone; "Nella Fantasia" words by Chiara Ferraù
And here is my version-- I'm not that happy with the recording and I'm not a great singer, but it is heartfelt. https://www.box.com/s/a7tcmcxlmrvz8f1sohju
Christmas 2009
12/24/2009
A Light In the Darkness
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.
He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.
And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. -John 1:1-14, NRSV
The other day I lit a candle on the winter solstice and thought about the darkest day of the year, and how from now on the days would become progressively longer and we would have more light each day. Being a Christian with somewhat-pagan tendencies (I connect with God strongly in nature and through the world he made, and so like to acknowledge the turning of the seasons), this had meaning for me.
I thought of people who would tell me I should be focusing on Advent, not Yule/Solstice (and in fact recently participated in a discussion on a message board about whether Christians should be using Advent “wreaths” and other greenery at Christmas, since this draws from pagan traditions). I couldn’t help but wonder how they could not see how easy the tie-in is.
The pagan sabbat of Yule/Solstice celebrates the coming of light on the darkest day of the year, and has done so for thousands of years. It is true that in the early days Christians “borrowed” many of these traditions to placate pagan converts, including Christmas trees, evergreen wreaths, and Yule logs (in fact, listen to some of the old Christmas songs and such and hear how they blatantly reference “Yule” logs—this is one tradition we haven’t even tried to pull under the cover of Christianity!), and these traditions survive to today, though many people could not tell you of their origins. This is one reason some Christians won't celebrate Christmas, or won't have a Christmas tree, etc.
I’ll admit that I have no qualms about discarding those of the borrowed traditions that do not enhance my spiritual experience of the holiday. I do not have a Christmas tree and do not feel the need for one (nor am I enamored of either killing a tree for the purpose of a few weeks’ display, or its plastic alternative). I am not averse, however, to a few respectfully-gathered evergreen boughs or sprigs of holly, bringing a bit of God’s world inside to where I live. But it is the lights and candles I love the most, for the light and warmth and meaning they bring.
So I sat by my little candle (I didn’t light my Advent candles for the occasion, though I wanted to; the simple truth is that my Advent candleholder wouldn’t fit on my messy bedside table and my colored Advent candles are running low and I haven’t yet found suitable replacements so I’m loathe to burn them too much) and thought about darkness and light. I thought of how each year at this time we anticipate and celebrate the coming of the Light of the World. December 25 may not be the actual date Jesus was born; scholars say it’s unlikely he was born in winter. The date was chosen because of its proximity to the solstice (again, to make conversion a little easier for those used to observing that particular holy time). For this reason alone, some Christians refuse to celebrate Christmas, or insist on celebrating at a different time of year. I’m not such a purist. A birthday celebration is still a birthday celebration, whether it occurs on the actual day or at another time, and it is not diminished by the imperfection of chronology. As the actual date of Jesus’ birth has been lost, any celebration is unlikely to fall on that date, so I don’t worry about it. I’m also not worried by its proximity to a pagan celebration; the mention of other religions and their practices is not a dirty word to me, and a faith that cares more for the earth than many members of my own, cannot, in my mind, be a bad thing.
Meanwhile, the selection of a date near the solstice has definite symbolic meaning. As I watched my candle flicker and felt peace slowly wash over me, I thought of the despair that the darkest day of an entire year can bring, and the hope that comes with the knowledge that brighter days will follow. Our Savior, too, comes near this darkest of days to bring light and hope to the world, and though it may not be true that he actually came at this time of year, our celebration at this time means that we are still acknowledging and anticipating that light and hope at a time when we perhaps need it most. We eagerly wait for his coming, as we do every year, and the days seem just a bit brighter. Dark as the nights may be, dark as the world may be, we know that we have the Light of the World, that light which shines in the darkness and which the darkness has not and cannot overcome, just as John said.
Two hymns came to mind as I sat with my candle, and I sang them to myself, silently in my head, though I wanted to let them echo over the rooftops: Oh, come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant … oh, come let us adore him, Christ the Lord! … Yea, Lord, we greet thee, born this happy morning … oh, come let us adore him! and Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel … Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, oh Israel!
How can the world be dark when he is in our midst? He shines his light and shows the way in which we should go and walk with him, in which we should love, in which we should and can and will be saved.
Later, when I went to bed, I put the candle out. But I, and all of us, will carry his light inside us on this day, throughout the year, and throughout our lives, and the darkness will not overcome it. This is the good news of our Lord--repeat the sounding joy!
Oh come, Emmanuel, God with us, Light of the World. Come to our hearts, come to our lives. Show us who we should be and how we should live, according to your ways and your love. Come to those of us who have all we need and allow us, help us, to be a light to others, shining forth your light from within us. Come to those of us in darkness and cold and bring your light and hope and grace to those of us who need them. Come to us, whoever we are and wherever we may be, whenever we call to you but especially at this time of year when we so fervently await your coming. And help us to come to you at your call. Come, thou long-expected Jesus!
O come all ye faithful
Joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem.
Come and behold Him,
Born the King of Angels;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.
Sing, choirs of angels,
Sing in exultation,
Sing, all ye citizens of heaven above.
Glory to God, glory in the Highest;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.
Yea, Lord, we greet Thee,
Born this happy morning,
Jesus to thee be all glory given.
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.
*
-----------------------------------------------------
O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Day-star, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads to Thee,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come to lead us Adonai,
Who to the tribes on height of Sinai
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.**
------------------------------------------------------
What can I give him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a wise man, I would do my part;
Yet what can I give him? Give my heart!***
*"Oh Come, All Ye Faithful" Latin words by John F. Wade, translated by Frederick Oakeley & William T. Brooke. Music tune "Adeste Fidelis" sometimes attributed to Wade and sometimes not.
**"O Come, O Come Emmanuel" words/music unknown; translated to English by John Mason Neale.
***"In The Bleak Midwinter" words Christina Rossetti, music Gustav Holst.
A Light In the Darkness
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.
He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.
And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. -John 1:1-14, NRSV
The other day I lit a candle on the winter solstice and thought about the darkest day of the year, and how from now on the days would become progressively longer and we would have more light each day. Being a Christian with somewhat-pagan tendencies (I connect with God strongly in nature and through the world he made, and so like to acknowledge the turning of the seasons), this had meaning for me.
I thought of people who would tell me I should be focusing on Advent, not Yule/Solstice (and in fact recently participated in a discussion on a message board about whether Christians should be using Advent “wreaths” and other greenery at Christmas, since this draws from pagan traditions). I couldn’t help but wonder how they could not see how easy the tie-in is.
The pagan sabbat of Yule/Solstice celebrates the coming of light on the darkest day of the year, and has done so for thousands of years. It is true that in the early days Christians “borrowed” many of these traditions to placate pagan converts, including Christmas trees, evergreen wreaths, and Yule logs (in fact, listen to some of the old Christmas songs and such and hear how they blatantly reference “Yule” logs—this is one tradition we haven’t even tried to pull under the cover of Christianity!), and these traditions survive to today, though many people could not tell you of their origins. This is one reason some Christians won't celebrate Christmas, or won't have a Christmas tree, etc.
I’ll admit that I have no qualms about discarding those of the borrowed traditions that do not enhance my spiritual experience of the holiday. I do not have a Christmas tree and do not feel the need for one (nor am I enamored of either killing a tree for the purpose of a few weeks’ display, or its plastic alternative). I am not averse, however, to a few respectfully-gathered evergreen boughs or sprigs of holly, bringing a bit of God’s world inside to where I live. But it is the lights and candles I love the most, for the light and warmth and meaning they bring.
So I sat by my little candle (I didn’t light my Advent candles for the occasion, though I wanted to; the simple truth is that my Advent candleholder wouldn’t fit on my messy bedside table and my colored Advent candles are running low and I haven’t yet found suitable replacements so I’m loathe to burn them too much) and thought about darkness and light. I thought of how each year at this time we anticipate and celebrate the coming of the Light of the World. December 25 may not be the actual date Jesus was born; scholars say it’s unlikely he was born in winter. The date was chosen because of its proximity to the solstice (again, to make conversion a little easier for those used to observing that particular holy time). For this reason alone, some Christians refuse to celebrate Christmas, or insist on celebrating at a different time of year. I’m not such a purist. A birthday celebration is still a birthday celebration, whether it occurs on the actual day or at another time, and it is not diminished by the imperfection of chronology. As the actual date of Jesus’ birth has been lost, any celebration is unlikely to fall on that date, so I don’t worry about it. I’m also not worried by its proximity to a pagan celebration; the mention of other religions and their practices is not a dirty word to me, and a faith that cares more for the earth than many members of my own, cannot, in my mind, be a bad thing.
Meanwhile, the selection of a date near the solstice has definite symbolic meaning. As I watched my candle flicker and felt peace slowly wash over me, I thought of the despair that the darkest day of an entire year can bring, and the hope that comes with the knowledge that brighter days will follow. Our Savior, too, comes near this darkest of days to bring light and hope to the world, and though it may not be true that he actually came at this time of year, our celebration at this time means that we are still acknowledging and anticipating that light and hope at a time when we perhaps need it most. We eagerly wait for his coming, as we do every year, and the days seem just a bit brighter. Dark as the nights may be, dark as the world may be, we know that we have the Light of the World, that light which shines in the darkness and which the darkness has not and cannot overcome, just as John said.
Two hymns came to mind as I sat with my candle, and I sang them to myself, silently in my head, though I wanted to let them echo over the rooftops: Oh, come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant … oh, come let us adore him, Christ the Lord! … Yea, Lord, we greet thee, born this happy morning … oh, come let us adore him! and Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel … Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, oh Israel!
How can the world be dark when he is in our midst? He shines his light and shows the way in which we should go and walk with him, in which we should love, in which we should and can and will be saved.
Later, when I went to bed, I put the candle out. But I, and all of us, will carry his light inside us on this day, throughout the year, and throughout our lives, and the darkness will not overcome it. This is the good news of our Lord--repeat the sounding joy!
Oh come, Emmanuel, God with us, Light of the World. Come to our hearts, come to our lives. Show us who we should be and how we should live, according to your ways and your love. Come to those of us who have all we need and allow us, help us, to be a light to others, shining forth your light from within us. Come to those of us in darkness and cold and bring your light and hope and grace to those of us who need them. Come to us, whoever we are and wherever we may be, whenever we call to you but especially at this time of year when we so fervently await your coming. And help us to come to you at your call. Come, thou long-expected Jesus!
O come all ye faithful
Joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem.
Come and behold Him,
Born the King of Angels;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.
Sing, choirs of angels,
Sing in exultation,
Sing, all ye citizens of heaven above.
Glory to God, glory in the Highest;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.
Yea, Lord, we greet Thee,
Born this happy morning,
Jesus to thee be all glory given.
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.
*
-----------------------------------------------------
O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Day-star, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads to Thee,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
O come to lead us Adonai,
Who to the tribes on height of Sinai
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.**
------------------------------------------------------
What can I give him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a wise man, I would do my part;
Yet what can I give him? Give my heart!***
*"Oh Come, All Ye Faithful" Latin words by John F. Wade, translated by Frederick Oakeley & William T. Brooke. Music tune "Adeste Fidelis" sometimes attributed to Wade and sometimes not.
**"O Come, O Come Emmanuel" words/music unknown; translated to English by John Mason Neale.
***"In The Bleak Midwinter" words Christina Rossetti, music Gustav Holst.
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