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Jilofalltrades87
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Name: Laura
Interests: Reading first and foremost, Bible Quizzing, and debate.
Expertise: I'm moderately good at writing, drawing, tatting, knitting, origami, sewing, braiding, calligraphy, scrapbooking, acting, quizzing, speech, and debate. In short, I'm a jill of all trades and a mistress of none.
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
7/8/2005
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| The church's one foundation
Is Jesus Christ her Lord.
She is is his new creation
By water and the word.
From heaven he came and sought her
To be his holy Bride
With his own life he bought her
And for her life he died.
Elect from every nation
Yet one o'er all the earth
Her charter of creation
One Lord, one faith, one birth.
One holy name she blesses,
Partakes one holy food.
And to one hope she presses
With every grace endued.
Though with a scornful wonder
We see her sore oppressed
By schisms rent asunder
By heresies distressed.
Yet saints their watch are keeping,
Their cry goes up, "How long?"
And soon the night of weeping
Shall be the morn of song.
Mid toil and tribulation
And tumult of her war
She waits the consummation
Of peace forevermore.
Till with the vision glorious
Her longing eyes are blessed
And the great church victorious
Shall be the church at rest.
Yet she on earth hath union
With God, the Three in One
And mystic sweet communion
With those whose rest is won.
Oh happy ones and holy!
Lord, give us grace that we
Like them, the meek and lowly,
May dwell on high with Thee.
This is such an old classic that I'm not sure I've ever really paid attention to it before. This hymn is the height of systematic theology. I love the imagery in the first verse: Christ the pursuing sacrificial Husband, to whom everything always comes back. Then the unity of the church: not a homogenous mass, but elect from every nation and still one o'er all the earth, because she partakes one holy food and is defined by the charter of one Lord, one faith, one birth. Then the glorious treatment of how throughout her distress in war the saints faithfully keep watch and joy shall come in the morning. The quiet confidence that the great church victorious shall be the church at rest. No matter how many times schisms have rent her asunder here, still she on earth hath union with God the Three in One, and soon she shall win her rest from battle and in that same union dwell on high with God.
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| How sweet and aweful is the place
With Christ within the doors
While everlasting Love displays
The choicest of her stores
While all our hearts and all our songs
Join to admire the feast
Each of us cries with thankful tongues
"Lord, why was I a guest?
Why was I made to seek thy voice
And enter while there's room
While thousands make a wretched choice
And rather starve than come?"
Twas the same love that spread the feast
That sweetly drew us in
Else we had still refused to taste
And perished in our sin.
Pity the nations, O our God,
Constrain the earth to come.
Send thy victorious Word abroad
And bring the strangers home.
We long to see thy churches full
That every chosen race
May with one heart and mind and soul
Sing thy redeeming grace.
The first time I heard this hymn, I didn't appreciate it. I thought the tune (St. Columba) too slow and boring and while I sensed some potential in the words, I hadn't absorbed them yet at all. It was sung as a request -- the birthday girl's favorite hymn, and I couldn't comprehend why it would be anyone's favorite. Now I can't get enough of it. It is all about a deep, deep wonder -- enough, my heart shouts, to convince anyone of Calvinism. Love drew us in! Love saved us from starvation when we refused to taste! How can we not sing in exultation to so great a God? Not just the spreader of the feast but the one who brings the guests to it. And here see displayed the heart for the lost that Calvinists are always accused of not having. Not so! We long to see God's churches full. And the culmination, the apex, the reason for being in a church and the reason to fill the churches is that we may with one heart and mind and soul sing God's redeeming grace. Deep community, united around the King of Kings, living to proclaim his exalted glory.
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| Before the throne of God above
I have a strong, a perfect plea
A great high priest whose name is Love
Who ever lives and pleads for me
My name is graven on his hands;
My name is written on his heart.
I know that while in heaven he stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart.
No tongue can bid me thence depart.
When Satan tempts me to despair,
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look, and see him there
Who made an end of all my sin.
Because a sinless Savior died,
My sinful soul is counted free;
For God, the Just, is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me
To look on Him and pardon me
Behold him there, the risen Lamb
My perfect, spotless righteousness,
The great unchangeable I am,
The King of glory and of grace!
One in himself, I cannot die
My soul is purchased by his blood
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ, my Savior and my God
With Christ, my Savior and my God
I love this song because it is not about how greatly I love God but about how greatly He loves me. It provides the perfect answer in every temptation: not "Oh what a worm you are!" Not "Just look at yourself, aren't you ashamed to sin like this!" Not "Hurry, hurry, stop doing that and try real hard to do the right thing!" Not "you can't possibly be trying hard enough or believing hard enough if THIS keeps happening again." Simply, "Look, here is Jesus, the great high priest whose name is Love. Look, the great unchangeable I AM who ever lives and pleads for you. Look, you cannot die. Look, he has made an end of all your sin."
Truly, Christ died for us and we died to sin, how then can we live in it any longer?
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| Fraser and Paden and I were in the commons room today feverishly reviewing music facts before class, and Claire and Jesse were there too. Conversation revolved around composers until Jesse announced, "I just saw a mouse." Fraser confirmed this, and Claire and I, being girls, were thus obliged to either jump up on tables screaming or to cluster around exclaiming about how cute it was. We chose the latter, not at all, I am sure, influenced by the fact that the mouse was last seen under one of the available tables. We progressed naturally from wondering if he was cute to proclaiming him such as he scooted out from under the table and under Paden's chair. Understandably put off by such commotion above him, he immediately disappeared behind a cabinet and presumably into the baseboard.
We decided that he was a liberal arts mouse and needed a liberal arts name, and so, inspired by a recent marveling at impossible names in our music reading, we called him Willibald Gluck. Willibald, is after all, a very mousey sort of name.
Paden remained infuriatingly focused on music throughout, refusing to acknowledge Willibald even when he ran past his feet. I imagine Paden got a good grade on his quiz. I drew a mouse on mine.
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| I am seen but not felt,
Yet untouched I have power.
Those that have me produce;
Those without me devour.
I will hide a great horde
As in battle they fight.
In some tiny creatures
I appear in the light.
I adorn surgeon's heads
And fill hippies with glee.
I fulfill many jobs:
It's not easy being me.
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