Joseph Spring's Blog

Psalm 118 Hymn

Give thanks to Yahweh, he is good,
His love endures forever!
Say, Israel, Aaron, all who fear,
"His love endures forever!"
In all distress, no faithless fear
for Yah has helped and answered clear
with victory o'er the en'my.

To trust and shelter in our God
is better than all others.
Behold, the threat'ning sounds around
are in His great name smothered.
Forced down to fall, yet Yahweh's strong
salvation came and changed the song
from fear to joyful vict'ry.

How can it be through sorrows road
that Yahweh's gate was opened?
Oh, marvel in the Son of Man,
and come to Yahweh through him.
This is the day that Yahweh made:
We will rejoice, be glad in it:
Jesus our chief was lifted.

We welcome you our God of light,
give thanks by light you gave us,
that bound within the Father's will
The Lamb was sent to save us.
Blessed is the one who in the name
of Yahweh came; will come again.
Your love endures forever!

This hymn is based on Psalm 118 (LSB), and was written specifically for our church’s Maundy Thursday service tonight. I am so grateful for our music team who gave necessary encouragement, exegesis and feedback, which resulted in this new song. It came together quite quickly and could certainly improve, but I wanted to share it without delay, that it might bless you this Easter weekend.

Credits: The melody is that of “Sing Praise to God Who Reigns Above” by Thomas Grassi. I’m not quite sure how to formally give him credit apart from the notation below.

psalm_118_hymnDownload

The Coucal’s Call

How can a garden move without moving?
Nothing stirs, but a still suspense
drops ripples in spiritual sense.

As mists drift from waters unwoken,
and weave like the sounds of the stream
which pour from a hidden coucal’s dream,

this layered stillness, this rich revelation
puts no words to dawn’s release,
only peace.

And day to day, the speech pours forth
in peace and life to make me blessed
to urge belief, and enter rest.

What raging stillness fills my soul!
The Spirit moves like winds unseen
to stir and sweep my strivings clean.

This layered stillness, this rich revelation
puts no words to dawn’s release,
but shows the need for gospel peace.

Frankincense

This is what I wrote for last year’s Christmas. We are hoping for much better this year!

We'll put away the frankincense
And try again next year
If only then we have the sense
Of smell, to raise our cheer

Though Christmas never was about
Aromas and such fare
Our joy is Christ without a doubt!
Yet feasts should fill the air

A wedding feast awaits us soon
And then with perfect sense
We'll lavish in such pleasure boon
And glory better hence

A place on the way

In Makolokwe,
the land is hungry
for fat to cover its bones,
those knolls and knells,
skin stretched,
as the hips
of a cow walking itself to market.

(October 2020, December 2021)

The Rhinoceros

Calm and ancient, a blunted beast
strolls along the verge.
It slowly gathers, in quiet and time,
blades to sate its bulk:
leath'ry walls, frightening mass all
caked in mud and strength.


(October 2020, December 2021)

Lyric Appreciation: Diamonds on the hills

“Diamonds on the hills reflect the thrill
of all the glory that has fallen to the Earth”

Josh Garrels – Gloria

It’s the week of Reformation Day, but for the past fortnight I’ve had Christmas Carols in my fingers and on my voice. We’ve set our church’s inaugural Carols service for the 4th of December, so I’ve been getting into song lists for our congregation to sing together. Amidst the busyness of October I feel like I’ve received an early quiet Christmas gift – a delight of enjoying the melodies and lyrics of much loved songs that have been maturing in stillness throughout the year.

Some of my favourite Christmas songs include some poetic ones which aren’t ideal for corporate worship, but whose imagery is lovely. On Josh Garrels’ album “The Light Came Down” is a song called “Gloria“, which includes vivid imagery of a snowy North American Christmas. It’s a strange, vicarious memory for anyone whose experience of Christmas is usually marked by sweltering heat and the smells of sea and sunblock. But back to the snowy song.

Garrels has an amazing way of showing the listener what he has seen. Diamonds on the hills – the twinkling windows lit up with celebrations, reflecting the joy in those houses, the glorious thrill of the incarnate Christ. The arrangement of Gloria has marvelous prosody, with steady, growing excitement and solid punctuations of certainty. Toward the end of the song, the choir grows in overlaid praise, and the percussion quickens, enjoying a great exhilaration, before ending in rest and peace.

That’s the glory those lights reflect. Let’s commit to that attitude of worship as we put up our lights, and as we observe the divers decorations around us. Our adornments are about that thrill of hope for which the weary world rejoices. As the album’s title track says, “The Light Came Down“. May our houses and facets reflect Him.

The Falcon’s Eyes

What do you see in the falcon's eyes? This is no wandering heart, no listless gaze. Look how the wind batters its face, ruffling its body in flight. Apart from its will, it will not moved. The falcon remains, not swooping loose, not crying out empassioned calls, but steady, poised. There is purpose in those eyes. Purpose which flows through its wings and tail. Purpose brewed in the deep wells of its mind, fixing its eyes to search intently, and find.

The silence between

While much of last year left me artistically dumbstruck, I managed to write a few things. They are quite raw. My hope is that in sharing these, I can encourage you through empathy, where our experiences align. For many people, the doldrums or storms persist, and what is deeply needed is a reprieve. To move, or to rest. To just be normal again, or to remember a greater hope.

I won’t forget 2020 quickly, for all the battles it brought. The scars may remain for a long while. Nevertheless, once again I raise an “Ebenezer” because God has brought me and my family safe thus far.

Please read these as glimpses into moments of the year, most of them lamentations from the wintry middle.

Time on social media
The bitterest scroll is sweet lament
in truth with weeps and warning.
The sweetest scrolling, bitterly rends
my eyes from rightful mourning.

The COVID-19 year
I started the Autumn unable to move.
In May I could not see.
The numbness took over and sleep hid away,
And Christmas had no scent.

Weary
The weary world rejoices
you shall walk
and not grow weary
you shall run
and not grow faint.

Locked Down / Falling Leaves
Is anyone else living in middle distance?
My eyes and ears have that furrowed look
confused by what is near and far
and every offer of assistance is through a screen
the screens from which I would break.
Rest, offered through a wearisome avenue.

Pushing my son in the swing, slow,
even he did not want to go high today,
slow rhythms of Autumn and barely a breeze
but the leaves, with nothing else to do
make small comments as they settle one by one
on their neighbours or the ground.

Sad
Some mornings I must needs address a sadness
that noun which teachers claimed was drab and lazy
and ought by stronger words to be supplanted
for sharper prose, precise instead of hazy

But all such rich expression fails the stillness.
For surely there are days of saddened weather
when I can spend three letters and you'd hear me
without demanding payments past my tether

For I am sad and have no more to offer.
My heart is middle-distant, heavy plodding,
embracing low ineloquent lamenting.
I need to sit in simple prayer to God.

Lockdown
Emotional weariness.
Busyness. Not success.
Where would I go?
It's not the same out there anymore.
How frail.
All plans derailed.
Eternity looms the same.
Where will I invest?
How can I rest?

Into the unknown / supply run
Greeted by the distant cheer of cobwebs
as I open my front door
I feel weak and fearful, bright and warm
to go lonely into the crowds.

I heard many attempts at Hope, and found them all lacking. They all began with empathy, which is commendable. In a sense, sharing these poems is not an exercise of Hope but Empathy. But the heart demands the next step, which is Hope. And here’s the truth: “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.”

Dog and Cat

Under the cot
in the middle of night
is certainly not
a place for a fight.

Verse in the night

Relenting, the rain left a midnight chilland a cloudless night from my windowsillwhere, telling a story both simple and vastthe droplets and moon made stars on the glass.