New Song: "Praise Be Ever to Our God"

Another re-done song project for you. This is an updated version of "Glory Be to God," a hymn I wrote several years ago. It includes an added refrain and a new musical setting. I grew up on the emotionally climactic grandeur of "Hosanna Praise & Worship" albums in the 90s, so if you hear a bit of that in this song, it's not by accident.

Disclosure: The lyrics and the lyric video are entirely my own original work, and I used online music generation tools for the vocals and instrumentation on the audio track. I want to support real artists and musicians, so I've chosen not to monetize or promote generative audio— I will not put it on any streaming platforms, and the YouTube video is unlisted rather than public. It is only accessible here, via my personal blog, as a kind of demo: a sample of what my lyrics might sound like when performed with full instrumentation. It is shared in this limited fashion for my own local parishioners and for devoted readers of my poetry. If you're a musician interested in partnering on a project like this, I'd love to hear from you. (thepeaceandthepassion@gmail.com)

Photography: Moosehorn NWR

Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them;

Let all the trees of the forest sing for joy.

Let all creation rejoice before the Lord, for he comes,

He comes to judge the earth.

He will judge the world in righteousness

And the peoples in his faithfulness.

- Psalm 96:12-13

The Evangeliad - Acts 1:21-26

"Therefore," said Peter, addressing the crowd,

"This necessity bears upon us now:

To appoint in this place one of the men

Who was with Christ from beginning to end,

Who has walked with us from the Jordan's shore,

From when the Baptizer baptized the Lord,

To the day when Jesus was taken up

To ascend and reign in glory and love--

Yes, one such man should assume Judas' seat,

And with us apostles, a witness be:

Giving word of what we've gazed upon--

The resurrection of the Son of God."

So two candidates were presented then,

Faithful among Christ's followers and friends:

Joseph Barsabbas (called Justus, too),

And then Matthias--these were the two.

Then the company prayed and said, "O Lord,

You from whom the Holy Spirit comes forth--

You know the hearts of all people on earth,

So show us the one whom you've called to serve

In this vacant place of ministry,

The apostleship which Judas received

And then left empty by turning aside

To go to his own due place when he died."

And then they cast lots, the choice to make known,

That thus the will of God might be shown;

And there to Matthias' place fell the lot,

Thence numbered among the apostles of God.

On Profanity

One of the drastic social changes I've noticed over the course of my life--and I suspect this is even more evident to those a generation above me--is the prevalence of profanity as accepted everyday speech. Even further: as expected everyday speech, to the point where lack of profanity is sometimes more noticeable than its presence. It has crept into countless texting abbreviations and communication shorthand on social media, becoming the commonplace backdrop of online interaction. If you're not swearing, it is now rather more difficult than it used to be to convey, in informal writing, that you feel emotionally invested in a topic. Words that a generation or two still functioned as vehicles of shock and offense have now become mere markers of emotional authenticity. There's a certain irony to this, of course: profanity's main linguistic role lies in its shock value, so I have a prophetic suspicion that there may be some new swear words coming in the future, since the old ones have now become so humdrum.

But it's worth backing up a step and asking what it says about us, as a culture, that profanity has become so prevalent. It sometimes seems that one can't click on a single "reel" or "short" without seeing people swearing on the sidewalk at each other. Profanity has become, quite frankly, boring and pedestrian. Even more: it is yet another sign that we're far more inept at using our own native language than most of the generations that preceded us. I recall reading a C. S. Lewis extract that said that the use of italics (as a way of implying a stress) was the sign of a poor writer; a good writer should be able to evoke the feeling he intends without recourse to such devices. In a way, profanity has become the italics of our culture; it's now just a sign that people are failures at communication. We've been blessed with a language that has the most robust and vibrant vocabulary of any language ever, and yet many people can't seem to convey the emotional tenor of their speech without drawing on the lazy man's arsenal of swear words. They could at least, one might hope, do as Shakespeare did, and create elegantly foul-mouthed insults that show some spark of creativity and reason. 

But that objection is a mere trifle. I can't expect every sidewalk barbarian to insult me like the Bard. There's something deeper in the issue of profanity, which I'd like to probe for a moment. If I were to imagine what my profane fellow citizens thought of my reaction--how I felt when I heard them swear--I think they'd probably guess that I felt shocked or offended. Because I'm a pastor, sometimes people who know that try to curb their speech, and it's clear they do it because they don't want to offend me. Some, of course, may find some casual pleasure in the idea of shocking a devout person by lobbing a few f-bombs here and there. But I don't think any of them would actually guess what I really feel. It's not offense.

I feel pity. I feel sorry for them. And that's honest, sincere sorrow--I'm not saying that in a judgmental sense. I'm not looking down my nose at them, nor am I shocked or offended. Rather, I grieve for them. Yes, I think perhaps that's the right word--I grieve for them, and for what they're missing. They are blind to wonders that they don't even know are there. And so it saddens me--not for my sake, but for theirs.

Where does that grief come from? It arises from seeing what profanity really is, and it's right there in the name itself. Profanity is a reference to that which is profane--i.e., the opposite of holy, the antonym of sacred. Sometimes swear words are references to things that are coarse or dirty by definition, but many times they are coarse references to holy things. I would honestly feel better about our culture if profanity was still shocking and offensive, because it should be. Anything that blasphemes the sacred should be utterly shocking. And that's what our swear words were meant to do: in English, swearing is often a direct reference to theological truths, to sex, or to the dignity of our fellow human beings: all among the highest and holiest things our God has seen fit to give us. So why do these terms no longer shock and offend? Because our culture, by and large, has decided that these things are not sacred. The awe-inducing, soul-satisfying weight of holiness is now a complete unknown. Our culture has no point of reference anymore for how to encounter that which is truly sacred, and so even the highest and holiest things are simply accepted as trivial, or trash, or targets for mockery.

Only those things that are held as inviolably precious still have the power to shock and offend. There are only a few English words for which that's still the case, and it shows what is seen as sacred in this culture: namely, markers of personal identity. If you use a coarse word to identify someone else's race, gender, or orientation, then you have stepped over one of the last inviolable lines in our culture, and society will hold you accountable. But they're the only ones--none of the old unspeakable words, that spoke coarsely of theological mysteries or sexual union, retain their power now. Such words are now so devoid of power that they run off the tongue like mere space-fillers. 

One can only get to that place--where holy things are spoken of as worthless--if one has not experienced the weight of holiness, has never understood the unimaginable splendor of the sacred. And it's not just Christianity that used to understand such things--it was the common experience of humanity at large to pause in awe before the sacred and the numinous, and to cut short one's words in the presence of holy things. So those who no longer have that capacity are not just missing the glories of the gospel, as eternally tragic as that is--they are also missing a profound and deep aspect of what it is to be truly human. They are like people who have plucked out their eyes to make themselves intentionally blind, or burned off their hands so they cannot feel the exquisite textures of the world around them. Their spiritual senses have become so dulled by the mockery and cynicism of profane things that they have lost a fundamental human capacity. It's not simply that nothing is holy to them anymore; it's that nothing can ever be holy to them in that condition.

Profanity may feel like a small and casual vice, but on a societal level, it points to something far more worrying: a creeping darkness that has cut off our ability to perceive the wonder and glory of the most precious things in life. In the face of such a darkness, let us pray for the light to dawn anew, and in the meantime, we shall grieve what we have lost.

New Song: "Grateful Praise" (Patriotic Hymn)

This is an updated version of one of my old songs (which can be found under the title "O God, Who Watches All Our Ways"), now set to a new tune. It aims to be a patriotic hymn inspired by a biblical vision of citizenship.

Disclosure: The lyrics and the lyric video are entirely my own original work, and I used online music generation tools for the vocals and instrumentation on the audio track. I want to support real artists and musicians, so I've chosen not to monetize or promote generative audio— I will not put it on any streaming platforms, and the YouTube video is unlisted rather than public. It is only accessible here, via my personal blog, as a kind of demo: a sample of what my lyrics might sound like when performed with full instrumentation. It is shared in this limited fashion for my own local parishioners and for devoted readers of my poetry. If you're a musician interested in partnering on a project like this, I'd love to hear from you. (thepeaceandthepassion@gmail.com)

Photography: Ricketts Glen State Park

See, I am doing a new thing! 

Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? 

I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

- Isaiah 43:19

The Evangeliad - Acts 1:15-21

During those days of patient devotion,

Uplifted with expectant emotion,

Peter stood forth so that he could address

A matter that urgently needed redress:

The assignment of the unoccupied spot,

Made vacant by Judas and what he had wrought.

So standing before the company's sight--

A hundred and twenty disciples of Christ--

Peter then spoke: "Brethren, listen and know:

That which the holy Scriptures foretold

Required fulfillment in what's taken place,

Yes, all that we've witnessed here in these days.

For all that the Spirit said long ago,

In words that David himself had set forth

Concerning Judas, who served as a guide

For those who captured our Lord ere he died--

The words of those prophecies come to bear

On us, who the Master's commission now share.

For Judas was numbered one of our own,

A witness to all that we've seen and known,

A sharer, indeed, of this ministry

Which we remaining Eleven received.

For there in the Psalms, you will find this said

Of him who betrayed, and now is dead:

'Desolate shall his appointed place be,

And empty, undwelt, is his vacant seat.'

And this, too, again, the Psalms have to say:

'Let his place of office another take.'"

(For Judas perished, as came the report,

Just shortly after he betrayed the Lord;

From Judas' coins, the price which he sought

To give over Christ, a field was bought.

And there in that place, the Iscariot died.

His body, distended, hanging up high,

Fell and burst open--a gruesome demise,

Played out in view of Jerusalem's eyes.

Soon everyone knew, as swift the word spread

That Christ's betrayer had ended up dead.

And so "Akeldama" they called the place--

"The Field of Blood" was henceforth its name.)