All posts by Phil

Sunday Singing: Hold On

Today’s hymn is a spiritual with many variations and no date of publication. “Hold on,” also called “Gospel Plow,” speaks of persevering in the faith, which doesn’t take fine theological acumen to do.

Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:61-62 ESV).

Keep your hand on that plow,
Hold on! Hold on!

Noah, Noah, let me come in,
Doors all fastened and the windows pinned,
Keep your hand on that plow,
Hold on! Hold on!
Noah said, “You done lost your track,
Can’t plow straight and keep a-lookin’ back,”
Keep your hand on that plow,
Hold on! Hold on!

Hold on! Hold on! Hold on!
Keep your hand on that plow,
Hold on! Hold on!

If you wanna get to Heaven,
let me tell you how:
Just keep your hand on the gospel plow,
Keep your hand on that plow,
Hold on! Hold on!
If that plow stays in your hand,
It’ll land you into the promised land!
Keep your hand on that plow,
Hold on! Hold on!

Mary had a golden chain,
Every link spelled with Jesus’ name.
Keep your hand on that plow,
Hold on! Hold on!
Keep on climbing and don’t you tire
Every rung goes higher and higher
Keep your hand on that plow,
Hold on! Hold on!

Here’s a faster version from the great Mahalia Jackson.

Lighting Up Your Neighbor to Recover Your Book and Other Useful Ideas

In his 1912 book about books and bookselling, Joseph Shaylor repeats a story about bookdealer in Barcelona who had particular methods for maintaining his inventory. “Don Vincent, . . . on his own confession was arraigned for the murder of customers who had bought from him rare and precious editions which he thus recovered, and on more than one occasion ‘set fire to the house of a rival, so that in the confusion he could secure some unique rarity of which he could not otherwise have been possessed.'”

He said there was another collector who bought a rare book at a high price. When someone suggested he bought the book in order to reprint it, the collector said, “Heaven forbid! If I were to, it would no longer be scarce and would therefore be valueless; besides, I doubt if the volume is worth re-printing.”

Friends, if you feel the temptation to do something like this, get help. Don’t live with the shame of bibliomania alone. Share it with others.

These home library ideas may also help. Number 2 is so moving it’s hard to scroll past it. Architectural Digest has warm-warming ideas too.

Chekhov: Hai Di Nguyen points to some stories in which Chekhov humanizes his characters through shame. We probably need more shame, more human humility, in real life.

Religion: A year ago today, “22-year-old Mahsa Amini died after being arrested by Iran’s morality police for wearing her hijab ‘improperly’.” Now, millions of Iranian women reportedly refuse to wear a hijab in public.

Evangelism: Here’s a post on a book about making “evangelism a less intimidating” by rethinking the goal and asking questions.

Two Books in Which Alien Armlets Give Anyone Amazing Abilities

A review of Meta and The Second Wave by Tom Reynolds

Connor Connolly, 16, didn’t actually want to be at the party deep in the woods, because that crowd never accepted him. His only friend talks him into it, but after a couple conversations, he leaves. That puts him nearby as a murderer drags a child away to her death. He tries to intervene, gets stabbed, and wakes up a few minutes later with alien wristbands that grant enhanced abilities.

Meta bands are the source of all superpowers on Earth. No one knows where they came from, and maybe a few people know how they work. They made their first public appearance over a decade ago, but after a cataclysmic event called The Battle, the public story said they all went dead. When Connor wakes up with a new set, he realizes he can take another shot at that murderer.

In Meta, the teenaged hero narrates his story of finding power, keeping secrets, finding a mentor (a Batman-type), testing his abilities, and confronting threats. Compelled to act when he sees people in trouble, he stumbles through increasingly difficult trials before fighting a creatively powerful villain at the end. His Meta bands don’t give him just one power but a variety of them, including an ability to freeze which comes up conveniently and isn’t mentioned again. The media dub him Omni, because of his multiple abilities, and you’d think new ones would come later, but by the end of the book, you’ll have seen everything he can do. I enjoyed it as a standard origin story.

The Second Wave picks up a few months after the first book with some observations on the practicalities of superness. Many new people have Meta bands now, and many of them don’t want to do hero work. Connor continues to make a name for himself as Omni by spotting these new criminals and taking them down efficiently.

Silver Island, the prison for people who misuse their Meta bands, has been working overtime to lock them away for good. The organization that manages it uses traditional government logic to handle the volatile people they catch and the Metas they work with. Some of them would like to just execute anyone they’ve prejudged as being a Meta who has misused power. We see the same rationale at street level with armed, volunteer SWAT teams patrolling their neighborhoods, looking for criminals who have powered down. The city has become a powder keg, and the good guys may be striking matches.

In this book, some significant events happen off-stage, and when they are revealed through heated accusations, they can come across as fabrications. That was my first impression, since I had nothing with which to verify them. Having gotten into the third book now, I assume the accusations are true, but it seems a bit much to roll with it. The story we have does a good job increasing the danger of villain confrontations, so I wouldn’t call these side events a plot hole.

The biggest deficit to both books is the first-person narrative. The sixteen-year-old narrator sounds realistic, sure, by stating the obvious frequently and overexplaining. Sometimes stating the obvious is played as a joke, but in the context of so much overexplanation, it isn’t funny. But the sequel doesn’t repeat the plot points of the first, such as Kid Super makes dopey mistakes with his new powers but prevails in the end, only to return to dopey mistakes in the next book. This young man is slowly maturing.

Both Meta and The Second Wave are fun books, and I’m already into the third one.

(Photo by Scott Evans on Unsplash)

Sunday Singing: Soldiers of Christ, Arise

Continuing our theme of faith, today’s hymn is from the great Charles Wesley, “the bard of Methodism.” Written in 1749, it speaks of the strength we have in Christ to persevere in the faith.

“Little children, you are from God and have overcome them, for he who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.” (1 John 4:4 ESV)

1 Soldiers of Christ, arise,
and put your armor on,
strong in the strength which God supplies
thro’ His eternal Son;
strong in the Lord of hosts
and in His mighty pow’r,
who in the strength of Jesus trusts
is more than conqueror.

2 Stand then in His great might,
with all His strength endued,
and take, to aid you in the fight,
the panoply of God.
From strength to strength go on,
wrestle and fight and pray;
tread all the pow’rs of darkness down
and win the well-fought day.

3 Leave no unguarded place,
no weakness of the soul;
take every virtue, every grace,
and fortify the whole.
That, having all things done
and all your conflicts past,
ye may o’ercome thro’ Christ alone
and stand complete at last.

Remembering 9/11 and What Little Security We Have Today

Everyone knows, I hope, that actions speak louder than words, which is a saying my old book of proverbs seems to derive from similar, older maxims such as this one from the French: Le fait juge l’homme or the deed proves the man. (Phrase Finder points to a 1693 sermon for the specific wording.) Words reveal our intentions, how we frame a problem, and if our actions give proof to our words, people believe us. They attest our integrity. If our actions work against our words, then our hearers have every reason to say we’re full hot air.

Politicians have historically low trustworthiness, according to polls, because their job is to overpromise and underdeliver, especially congressmen. They can’t do all they say they will do, because they have to work with a crowd of others who promised to do other things—some of which should not be done. Since Nixon shattered American confidence, the highest average percentage of people “who say they trust the government to do what is right just about always/most of the time,” according to the Pew Research Center, is 54%. That was on October 25, 2001.

On Monday, we will mark the 22nd anniversary of the hijacking of four commercial aircraft in an effort to punish the United States for crimes against Islam. Many politicians and civil servants have learned nothing in that time, judging by their actions. They want to be judged by their words alone, and not all of their words. Only the current ones. Why dig up the past by rehearsing old lies when the current lie is all we need? If they say we’re safe, secure, prepared–that’s all the proof we should need.

This being the third year of the Biden administration, and our country is weaker than we were in 2001. Yes, it’s Biden’s fault, but any of the recent Liberal/Progressive crop would have done the same. Progressivism undermines its own goals. If the optics are good, the goal has been achieved.

They give money to Iran and say it can’t be used for nuclear weapons development, so it’s safe. They open the southern boarder to allow thousands of who knows who to cross every day but claim it’s secure, so no worries. They spend from the FEMA fund on non-emergencies and are caught short when wildfires catch Hawaii responders off-guard. Oh, but the optics were good on that one, so maybe the president can hand out some money, tell a story about almost losing his house and car, and that will smooth over hurt feelings.

If it doesn’t, you can shut up, because Progressives don’t want your words unless you agree with them. Disagreement on some subjects is violence.

If 9/11 were to happen under this administration, they would be give the same speeches they give today about bravery, American unity, and how the president knows from personal experience how hard something like this can be. But nothing responsible would be done.


Subtle Sounds: The Flight 93 National Memorial in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, has a 93-foot tower with forty wind chimes for the forty passengers and crew who died while opposing their hijackers. It’s called the Tower of Voices. The National Park Service has a good description and many photos. This video has captures the sound better than others I’ve found.

Antiquities: In other news, detectorists win again! A Norwegian man named Erlend Bore found a “cache comprised nine gold medallions and gold pearls that once formed an opulent necklace, as well as three gold rings” dating from 500 AD. (via Prufrock)

Poetry: A few thoughts on mirrors, “Witness,/ Mimic, tyrant of the departed years”

Music: And finally, this piece about the resurrection.

(Photo by BEERTA MAINI on Unsplash)

Sunday Singing: I Am Thine, O Lord, I Have Heard Thy Voice

Today’s hymn is another one by Fanny Crosby, published in 1875, distributed in the revival meetings led by Moody and Sankey. The melody by American William H. Doane may sound dated now (and is the main reason many churches no longer sing hymns in general), but the devotion of the text is moving. And hearing a choir like the one above singing a classic hymn like this stirs the soul.

“My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me” (John 10:27 NRSV).

1 I am thine, O Lord, I have heard thy voice,
And it told thy love to me;
But I long to rise in the arms of faith,
And be closer drawn to thee.

Refrain:
Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To the cross where thou hast died;
Draw me nearer, nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To thy precious, bleeding side.

2 Consecrate me now to thy service, Lord,
By the pow’r of grace divine;
Let my soul look up with a steadfast hope,
And my will be lost in thine. [Refrain]

3 O the pure delight of a single hour
That before thy throne I spend,
When I kneel in prayer, and with thee, my God,
I commune as friend with friend! [Refrain]

4 There are depths of love that I cannot know
Till I cross the narrow sea;
There are heights of joy that I may not reach
Till I rest in peace with thee. [Refrain]

Old Words May Help Us Understand a Minnesota Bridge

D’you mind if I share some things I read in the S pages of a massive Webster’s Second International? Thanks. You’re a peach.

Obsolete meanings of common words

Sorry is used as a noun in Scottish and some English dialects to mean “sorrow.” It was also once used as “to grieve.” And sorry grace was once a phrase meaning “bad luck” or “ill fortune.”

Sorrow once had a subtle use of causing actual damage, not just emotional stress.

Sore as an adjective once had a sense of criminal or wrong. As a noun, it once was used to mean disease, affliction, pain, or grief. As a verb, it used to mean “to wound.”

Sound was once used in the sense of understanding or relevance, as in, the speech had no sound for me.

Word combos

Also, on these pages are lists of combinations, like these archaic ones for sore: sore-beset, sore-dreaded, sore-taxed, sore-vexed, and sore-won.

These for sorrow are not marked archaic but have an unfamiliar sound to me: sorrow-blinded, sorrow-bound, sorrow-closed, sorrow-seasoned, sorrow-shot, and sorrow-streaming.

For soul, there’s a long list, including soul-benumbed, soul-blind, soul-boiling, soul-cloying, soul-fatting, soul-gnawing, and soul-thralling.

The Internet doesn’t have natural discoverability like this old dictionary. We could lose a lot of knowledge by limiting our systems to giving us only the answers to the questions we’ve asked, because if we ask what else we might want to know, the Internet just asks us what else we want to know.

Now that I’ve played the philologist for a minute, what else do we have?

More Words: Here are a couple videos on old words that should be brought back.

Journalism: There’s a pedestrian bridge crossing I-494 just west of the Minneapolis Airport that connects Bloomington to Richfield. Tyler Vigen wanted to know why it was built. Some of the readers of this very blog may be asking the same question, so Vigen did the research and has given us a full report (with excessive in-text notes).

Authors: C.S. Lewis versus T.S. Eliot with sharpened opinions

Naturalism: Does unnatural behavior exist? Is it true that “whatever is possible is by definition also natural”?

Photo: The sign on the old hotel by the tracks, Gulpwater, Wyoming. John Margolies Roadside America photograph archive (1972-2008), Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.

Sunday Singing: Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul

Today’s hymn is another old text paired to a new tune. Though it’s been published in hundreds of hymnals, I’ve heard it only because of the recording above. English author Anne Steele (1717-1778) was the daughter of a Particular Baptist minister working in southern England. She was something of a literary star in her circles. She died in great pain, but I don’t know that this hymn was written during that suffering.

This text has been copied from a 1793 publication.

“Though he slay me, I will hope in him” (Job 13:15 ESV).

1 Dear refuge of my weary soul,
On thee, when sorrows rise,
On thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies.

2 To thee I tell each rising grief,
For thou alone canst heal;
Thy word can bring a sweet relief
For every pain I feel.

3 But O! when gloomy doubts prevail,
I fear to call thee mine;
The springs of comfort seem to fail,
And all my hopes decline.

4 Yet, gracious God, where shall I flee?
Thou art my only trust;
And still my soul would cleave to thee,
Tho’ prostrate in the dust.

5 Hast thou not bid me seek thy face?
And shall I seek in vain?
And can the ear of sovereign grace
Be deaf when I complain?

6 No, still the ear of sovereign grace
Attends the mourner’s prayer;
O may I ever find access
To breathe my sorrows there.

7 Thy mercy-seat is open still;
Here let my soul retreat;
With humble hope attend thy will,
And wait beneath thy feet.

A Con Artist, Betrayal, and Artificial Intelligence

If the Christian life is one of continual repentance, then what do we do with a minister who has lived in sin for many years, justified his sin with spiritual abuse, and disqualified himself from ministry–most of which was learned after his death?

One of my friends brought up an apologist who recently passed away and was subsequently exposed as having lived an abusive life for years. Before his death, we thought he was a great Bible teacher. Now, we slough off his books at the used bookstore. Aren’t his books still as good as they were before? He compared the apologist to King David, who sinned far more extensively than we usually give him credit for. We overlook Solomon’s gross sins too.

I didn’t say anything this time. I’ve argued my case before, and maybe it doesn’t sit well with me.

The comparison to David doesn’t work. He and Solomon are categorically different. We look to them and see the Lord’s saving grace unbound.

Should we reject a man’s published work for a pattern of sin mostly uncovered after his death? Does known sin raise any theological questions? The man wrote a book on living the faith we profess, and we should consider its merit on the words of the books, not the life of the author? If this were a local pastor, would we continue to distribute his books, studies, and recordings as if it’s all academic? No. If he were a local pastor, we would expect him to be excommunicated were he still alive. The filth of his sin touches everything.

But that argument doesn’t sit easily with me, because I think of readers down the road who won’t know of the sin. They’ll only know the books, and perhaps the Lord will demonstrate his unbounded grace yet again.

I assume you know whom I’m talking about. It still hurts to remember it. Why do I feel betrayed by someone I didn’t know personally? I don’t know. It isn’t academic for me.

What else do we have today?

Deception: I recently listened to the first season and a little more of a well-produced podcast by Brian Brushwood called “The World’s Greatest Con.” Brian is a good storyteller, and this show is dynamite. The first season is on Operation Mincemeat, a scheme from WWII to deceive the Nazis into thinking the Allied would attack Italy.

Artificial Intelligence: “With every passing day, OpenAI looks more like Napster or the many defunct piracy platforms—it relies on the creativity of others to make a buck. And there are plenty of laws against that.”

This rings true to me. Microsoft’s Bing AI presents itself as if you’re talking to an intelligent friend, but it doesn’t give answers any better than regular search results. Microsoft seems to think we all want to search as if we’re talking to someone IRL, but if it doesn’t understand us like a friend could, it’s pointless.

Orthodox Church: St. George’s Church in Drohobych, Lviv Oblast (west Ukraine), is a gorgeous work. It “is a unique monument of Galician wooden architecture of the late 15th – early 16th centuries. It is one of the best preserved monuments of old Ukrainian sacral architecture.”

Also, St. Andrew’s Church in Kyiv (via The Cultural Tutor).

Coffee: I don’t mind pumpkin spice, but I don’t drink it either. “Six bucks is a small price to pay (apart from still being scandalous and highway robbery) for the appearance of agency.”

Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

Sunday Singing: He Will Hold Me Fast

Today’s hymn was published in 1906, but the tune we use in my church circles was written within the last ten years. English hymnist Ada Ruth Habershon (1861-1918) wrote the text and many other hymns as well as Bible studies and books. She contributed to the songs distributed and sung during the Liverpool Revival of 1905.

The words performed in the video above are not exactly as copied below; both versions deserve our attention.

1 When I fear my faith will fail,
Christ will hold me fast;
When the tempter would prevail,
He can hold me fast!

Refrain:
He will hold me fast,
He will hold me fast;
For my Savior loves me so,
He will hold me fast.

2 I could never keep my hold,
He must hold me fast;
For my love is often cold,
He must hold me fast. [Refrain]

3 I am precious in His sight,
He will hold me fast;
Those He saves are His delight,
He will hold me fast. [Refrain]

4 He’ll not let my soul be lost,
Christ will hold me fast;
Bought by Him at such a cost,
He will hold me fast. [Refrain]