All posts by Phil

Music

Sunday Singing: Amidst Us Our Beloved Stands

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The hymns this month have focused on Our Lord’s Table. Today’s song was written for an 1866 hymnal by the great English preacher Charles Spurgeon (1834-1892). The tune shared here is not one you would find in a hymnal. It’s a 2009 arrangement by Greg Kay.

“Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, ‘Take, eat; this is my body’” (Matthew 26:26 ESV).

1 Amidst us our Beloved stands,
and bids us view His pierced hands;
points to the wounded feet and side,
blest emblems of the Crucified.

2 What food luxurious loads the board,
when, at His table, sits the Lord!
The cup how rich, the bread how sweet,
when Jesus deigns the guests to meet!

3 If now, with eyes defiled and dim,
we see the signs, but see not Him;
O may His love the scales displace,
and bid us see Him face to face!

4 Our former transports we recount,
when with Him in the holy mount:
these cause our souls to thirst anew
His marred but lovely face to view.

Blogs, Socials, Bookselling, Music, Poetry

Are People Buying Books or Not?

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Point: Few people buy books that aren’t celebrity aligned. Britney Spears’s autobiography, released October 24, 2023, is currently #1 in Kindle, #10 in hardcover on Amazon. Aside of these, publishing houses stay afloat through backlist sales: Bibles, coloring books, and Don Quixote.

Counterpoint: Plenty of people are buying books, and the big publishers aren’t objective reporters on their own business.

“Someone from a prestige big 5 imprint whose books are often award-contenders and bestsellers once told me any book that sold less than 25,000 in print was a failure for them. OTOH, when I was in an MFA program—where many of the professors wrote experimental literary novels and such—I was told anything more than 5,000 sales was a success. Some small press editors might be happy with 1,000 sales.”

Topping Amazon’s fiction list for most sold this week are The Women,
by Kristin Hannah (12 weeks on the list) and The Covenant of Water, by Abraham Verghese (33 weeks).

As booklovers, we may want many more people to join us in reading, sharing, and enjoying the written or recorded word, but I don’t think the sky is falling yet.

Also in this vein, Ted Gioia offers “10 Reasons Why I’m Publishing My Next Book on Substack.“

What else do we need to know?

Poetry: On April 26, 1336, a great poet climbed into the Alps just for the thrill of it, which people didn’t do in those days. Petrarch climbed to the top of Mont Ventoux (which is much higher today because of inflation) and read from Augustine’s Confessions, “Where I fixed my eyes first, it was written: ‘And men go to admire the high mountains, the vast floods of the sea, the huge streams of the rivers, the circumference of the ocean and the revolutions of the stars – and desert themselves.’ . . .”

Memoir: Writing about his life, Marvin Olasky says to be open to change. Don’t set a groove early and try to stay there.

C.S. Lewis: Screwtape praises certain celebrities and the sheep of their flock

Music: Ted Gioia writes western music isn’t what we think it is. “Just stop and think for a moment about the importance of Venice in the history of music. Everything from madrigals to operas found their home in that bustling port city—a key connecting point between West and East in the modern imagination.”

Music

Sunday Singing: Let Thy Blood in Mercy Poured

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Today’s hymn, “Let Thy Blood in Mercy Poured,” comes from the Greek tradition, and maybe if I could type Greek, I could search for the title on Greek pages. But the sources I’ve seen give no date for that version of the hymn, only that is came into English via Glasgow native and Free Church minister John Brownlie (1857-1925). The tune is much older, written by Lutheran cantor at Berlin’s St. Nicholas Church, Johann Crüger (1598-1662).

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship” (Romans 12:1 ESV).

1 Let thy blood in mercy poured,
let thy gracious body broken,
be to me, O gracious Lord,
of thy boundless love the token.

Refrain:
Thou didst give thyself for me,
now I give myself to thee.

2 Thou didst die that I might live;
blessed Lord, thou cam’st to save me;
all that love of God could give
Jesus by his sorrows gave me. [Refrain]

3 By the thorns that crowned thy brow,
by the spear wound and the nailing,
by the pain and death, I now
claim, O Christ, thy love unfailing. [Refrain]

4 Wilt thou own the gift I bring?
All my penitence I give thee;
thou art my exalted King,
of thy matchless love forgive me. [Refrain]

Poetry, Uncategorized

On the Discovery of Old Things

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To hear the world applaud the hollow ghost
Which blamed the living man.

Matthew Arnold, “Growing Old”

Matthew Arnold captures something in his 1867 poem “Growing Old.” I don’t know what is exactly. Seems a bit obtuse to a spry Gen-Xer like me. But I was thinking of old things today, because I’ve caught wind of many recent archeological finds and thought I’d share them with you today.

Vikings: Let’s start with the unearthing of over a couple thousand fragments of combs and brooches, some “carved from the antlers of red deer, and a few were made of bones from animals like whales.”

Ice Skating: Archeologists with the Comenius Museum in Přerov, the Czech Republic’s Moravia region, discovered a 1,000-year-old ice skate. “It dates back to the time when there was a very important fortress in the area of the Upper Square. It served as a stronghold for Polish King Boleslav the Brave, who occupied Moravia at the time and had his soldiers stationed there.”

Greeks and Romans: Pompeii got even more impressive with the discovery of gorgeous frescos depicting Helen of Troy and Cassandra

Caesar: A team from the University of Tokyo have found an ancient villa that they believe to have been owned by Caesar Augustus.

And researchers working in the area of Rome’s Colosseum have uncovered a home with an exceptional mural showing “weapons and musical instruments as well as ships and tridents.” The director general of museums at the Italian culture ministry said, “There is nothing else like it from this period in Rome. There is nothing like it even at Pompeii.”

Swedish Longsword: And finally, the grave of a tall Swedish man with an impressive longsword was violated by the Halland Cultural Environment in their unrestrained excavations of the Franciscan friary in Halmstad. I fear for the townspeople who will be troubled by his vengeful ghost.

The Press

NPR Editor Speaks Out, Gets Suspended

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Uri Berliner, a senior editor of NPR business news, a 25-year veteran of America’s iconic radio network, got an article published earlier this month in The Free Press, saying the news network was far more balanced than it is today.

“It’s true NPR has always had a liberal bent, but during most of my tenure here, an open-minded, curious culture prevailed. We were nerdy, but not knee-jerk, activist, or scolding.”

Until 2016. After that watermark year in which nothing remotely remarkable happened, NPR has driven down the hill of leftist ideology and lost the faith of American listeners.

In February, our audience insights team sent an email proudly announcing that we had a higher trustworthy score than CNN or The New York Times. But the research from Harris Poll is hardly reassuring. It found that “3-in-10 audience members familiar with NPR said they associate NPR with the characteristic ‘trustworthy.’ ” Only in a world where media credibility has completely imploded would a 3-in-10 trustworthy score be something to boast about. 

Today, NPR reports they suspended Berliner without pay for the last five days because he did not get approval to release an article to The Free Press. They said could be fired if he does this again.

Berliner said he had been trying to his concerned heard for a few years without success. Going public was a way to get heard.

Update: Berliner resigned today, calling NPR “a great American institution” and not for defunding it.

Music

Sunday Singing: Deck Thyself, My Soul, with Gladness

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Here’s a devotional hymn from German poet Johann Franck (1618-1677), translated into English by scholar Catherine Winkworth (1827-1878).

I will greatly rejoice in the LORD;
my soul shall exult in my God,
for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation;
he has covered me with the robe of righteousness,
as a bridegroom decks himself like a priest with a beautiful headdress,
and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. (Isaiah 61:10 ESV)

1 Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness,
leave the gloomy haunts of sadness;
come into the daylight’s splendour,
there with joy thy praises render
unto him whose grace unbounded
hath this wondrous banquet founded:
high o’er all the heavens he reigneth,
yet to dwell with thee he deigneth.

2 Now I sink before thee lowly,
filled with joy most deep and holy,
as with trembling awe and wonder
on thy mighty works I ponder:
how, by mystery surrounded,
depth no mortal ever sounded,
none may dare to pierce unbidden
secrets that with thee are hidden.

3 Sun, who all my life dost brighten,
light, who dost my soul enlighten,
joy, the sweetest heart e’er knoweth,
fount, whence all my being floweth,
at thy feet I cry, my Maker,
let me be a fit partaker
of this blessed food from heaven,
for our good, thy glory, given.

4 Jesus, Bread of Life, I pray thee,
let me gladly here obey thee;
never to my hurt invited,
be thy love with love requited:
from this banquet let me measure,
Lord, how vast and deep its treasure;
through the gifts thou here dost give me,
as thy guest in heaven receive me.

Music

Sunday Singing: Up From the Grave He Arose

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Lars talked about rousing Easter music last week, so I thought I’d find one for today. “Up From the Grave He Arose” was written by American preacher and hymn writer Robert Lowry (1826-1899). It’s one of those stirring kind of songs that calls up images of evangelistic rallies or brass bands on the sidewalk.

“God raised him up, loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it.” (Acts 2:24 ESV)

1 Low in the grave he lay, Jesus my Savior,
waiting the coming day, Jesus my Lord!

Refrain:
Up from the grave he arose;
with a mighty triumph o’er his foes;
he arose a victor from the dark domain,
and he lives forever, with his saints to reign.
He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!

2 Vainly they watch his bed, Jesus my Savior,
vainly they seal the dead, Jesus my Lord! [Refrain]

3 Death cannot keep its prey, Jesus my Savior;
he tore the bars away, Jesus my Lord! [Refrain]

Poetry

My Daughter Has Published Her Poetry

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Earlier this year, my oldest daughter told me she had published a book of her poetry. She didn’t ask me about it ahead of time. She didn’t come to me with an idea and say she understood I’ve looked into writing and publishing for years so maybe I would have some thoughts. No. She just made it happen behind my back.

As you would expect, I reacted as gently and affirmingly as could be imagined. I think I yelled at her. I tried to keep a level head and ask questions like, “What do you mean?!” and “Are you kidding me?”

But this is the world we have. Little girls can earn their own money and pay for publishing services, not unlike those which have employed me in the past, and get their words in print on actual pages and physical books–without their father’s involvement.

Her book is Silent Beauty Speaks. It’s a collection of nature poems, efforts at capturing the sunrise or a night’s calm.

The gentle swell of airy song,
The lullaby of breath belongs
To quiet winds that round the ear,
Whispering softly,
"Do not fear."

That’s a stanza from “Lilac Night.” Here’s her opening poem, “A Marbled Sky.”

When first I rose, and laid my eyes
Upon the marbled sunrise,
The moving clouds of dark and gold,
I saw a story yet untold
The expectation of the day
A light to hold, to hope, and pray
May I find grace enough today

I’d love to hear your thoughts on her work, not that I would share them. I’m too critical on my own. Any criticism you have will stay between us. But if you say you’ve been moved to invest in the future of humanity, I might pass that on.

Photo: Luke Ellis-Craven via Unsplash

Music

Easter Singing: The Strife Is O’er, the Battle Done

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“The Strife Is Over, the Battle Done” performed by a choir under the direction of Roshni Sharon Rajan

Our Easter hymn is “The Strife Is O’er, the Battle Done,” written by an anonymous Jesuit in the late 17th century and translated into English by the Curate of Ticehurst, East Sussex, Franis Pott in 1861.

“He will swallow up death forever;
and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces,
and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth,
for the LORD has spoken.” (Isaiah 25:8 ESV)

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

1 The strife is o’er, the battle done;
the victory of life is won;
the song of triumph has begun.
Alleluia!

2 The powers of death have done their worst,
but Christ their legions has dispersed.
Let shouts of holy joy outburst.
Alleluia!

3 The three sad days are quickly sped;
he rises glorious from the dead.
All glory to our risen Head.
Alleluia!

4 He closed the yawning gates of hell;
the bars from heaven’s high portals fell.
Let hymns of praise his triumph tell.
Alleluia!

5 Lord, by the stripes which wounded thee,
from death’s dread sting thy servants free,
that we may live and sing to thee.
Alleluia!

Religion

Holy Saturday: ‘There Is No Longer Any Prophet’

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The day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is an odd, muted day. Between a sober Friday service, in which the Christ candle leaves the sanctuary, and a joyous Sunday service, which, if we could, we would pack with sunlight as dazzling as a Hallelujah, stands a Saturday that feels like any other end of the week. 

On that first Saturday before Easter, I doubt the disciples would find much comfort in the habits of the Sabbath. The light of the world was gone. “O God, why do you cast us off forever? Why does your anger smoke against the sheep of your pasture?” (Psalm 74:1) 

Joseph of Arimathea had put Jesus’s body in his tomb Friday night, and when he woke up on Saturday, he may have wondered how the sun was still allowed rise. How could anything carry on normally with Jesus of Nazareth in the grave? 

We do not see our signs; 
there is no longer any prophet, 
and there is none among us who knows how long. 
How long, O God, is the foe to scoff? 
Is the enemy to revile your name forever? (vv. 9-10) 

Holy Saturday is a good day to ask these questions and to consider the darkness that lingers, the dream that’s deferred, the disappointment that goes unresolved.  

Psalm 74 is a cry to God after the destruction of the temple. “The enemy has destroyed everything in the sanctuary!” (v. 4). That was in the 6th century B.C. Later, in A.D. 33, Jesus had left a similar hole in his disciples’ hearts. He had told the Jews, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up,” referring to his body, but no one understood at the time (John 2:19, 21). On that first Saturday, it felt as if the enemy had destroyed everything. 

We live in brighter days comparatively, but it’s still easy to ask the Lord whether he has cast us off when our own bodies fail us or when our communities are threatened. How long will enemies war against us and our neighbors? Does our current pain mean he has rejected us?  

War, crime, and countless inhumanities—no one knows how long they will last. But we do know who has broken them. “Yet God my King is from of old, working salvation in the midst of the earth” (v. 12). 

O God, let us see your salvation at work with the Easter sunrise and every sunrise thereafter. 

(Photo: Sebastian Molina fotografía via Unsplash)