dual personalities

Tag: spirituality

December 7, 2011

Thy daily stage of duty run

by chuckofish

Awake, my soul, and with the sun
thy daily stage of duty run;
shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise
to pay thy morning sacrifice.

Lord, I my vows to thee renew;
disperse my sins as morning dew;
guard my first springs of thought and will,
and with thyself my spirit fill.

Direct, control, suggest, this day,
all I design or do or say;
that all my powers, with all their might,
in thy sole glory may unite.

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;
praise him, all creatures here below;
praise him above, ye heavenly host:
praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

–Thomas Ken

Now here’s a poem we have probably all known forever and taken for granted. What a great morning prayer and hymn! If you are alone and cannot sing it as a round, sing it anyway. You’ll be glad you did.

And while we’re at it, let’s give a high five to Bishop Thomas Ken (1637–1711) who wrote it. (Ken is honored with a feast day on the liturgical calendar of the Episcopal Church (USA) on March 20.)

They don’t write ’em like this anymore.

P.S. This is our 100th blog post! Yay for us!

3 Comments
December 5, 2011

Stand ye still, and ye shall see the salvation of the Lord

by chuckofish

Tonight I went to our service of Advent Lessons and Carols at Grace Episcopal Church. We sang all the great Advent hymns, including (56) O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, (66) Come Thou Long Expected Jesus, and (265) our all-time favorite, Gabriel’s Message, the one about “thou lowly maiden Mary, most highly favored lady.”

There were eight lessons, scripture readings from the old and new testaments, and a variety of carols sung by the Choir of Men and Women, the St. Nicholas Boys Choir, the St. Cecelia Girls Choir, and the (adorable) St. Patrick Training Choir. This AND a homily from the visiting Rt. Revd. Stephen Dokolo, Bishop of the Diocese of Lui, Southern Sudan, who looked like a Masai warrior without a spear. Very impressive indeed.

The highpoint for me was when fourth grader Brigid strode across the choir, bowing before the altar, and proceeded up to the lectern to read the second lesson. Clearly enjoying herself, radiantly self-confident, she smiled and read Isaiah 40:1-8: “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God” better than most adults are able. She never stumbled over such stumbling blocks as “recompense” or “constancy”. She read with conviction, “‘Cry out!’ And I said, ‘What shall I cry?'” She brought to mind Linus in A Charlie Brown Christmas.

I am particularly fond of Brigid and her siblings because daughter #2 has been babysitting them for many years and so I have a tangential, proprietary attachment to them. They give me faith in the next generation.

So onward through Advent: Look toward the east, O Jerusalem, and see the joy that is coming to you from God.

5 Comments
November 14, 2011

The holy within

by chuckofish

Thomas Raymond Kelly (1893-January 17, 1941) was an American Quaker educator. He taught and wrote on the subject of mysticism. His books are widely read, especially by people interested in spirituality.

Kelly’s life was full of disappointment. In 1936, after years of teaching jobs across the country, he was finally offered a position in the philosophy department at Haverford College. His dissertation for his second Ph.D. (from Harvard) was published, and all he still needed to do was pass the oral defense of that dissertation. Then he lived out the nightmare of every Ph.D. candidate: he lost his memory during his oral exam. Harvard not only failed him on the defense, they also informed him that he would never be allowed a second chance.

His son wrote, “There is no exact record of what happened in the following weeks, but it is certain that sometime during the months of November or December, 1937, a change was wrought within the very foundation of his soul. He described it as being ‘shaken by the experience of Presence — something that I did not seek, but that sought me ….’ Stripped of his defenses and human self-justification, he found, for the first time, a readiness to accept the outright gift of God’s Love, and he responded with unlimited commitment to that leading. His teaching colleague Douglas Steere, who spent uncounted hours walking Kelly through his grief, later wrote of his healing: ‘He moved toward adequacy. A fissure in him seemed to close, cliffs caved in and filled up a chasm, and what was divided grew together within him. Science, scholarship, method remained good, but in a new setting’.” (Jerry R. Flora: “Searching for an Adequate Life: The Devotional Theology of Thomas R. Kelly”, Spirituality Today, Spring 1990)

Kelly received word on January 17, 1941 that Harper and Brothers wanted to meet with him to discuss the publication of a devotional book. “Today will be the greatest day of my life,” he told his wife. He died of a heart attack later that same day while drying the dinner dishes. Three months later his friend Steere submitted five of Kelly’s devotional essays to the publisher along with a biographical sketch of Kelly. The book was published under the title A Testament of Devotion.

There is a divine Abyss within us all, a holy Infinite Center, a Heart, a Life who speaks in us and through us to the world. We have all heard this holy Whisper at times. At times we have followed the Whisper, and amazing equilibrium of living set in. But too many of us have heeded the Voice only at times. We have not counted this Holy Thing within us to be the most precious thing in the world. We have not surrendered all else, to attend to it alone.

Let me repeat, most of us, I fear, have not surrendered all else, in order to attend to the Holy Within.

–from A Testament of Devotion

Life is sad and mysterious. Terrible things happen. Read this book by Thomas Kelly. It is full of good stuff.

3 Comments
November 8, 2011

A morning prayer

by chuckofish

Now that the daylight fills the sky,
we lift our hearts to God on high,
that, he, in all we do or say,
would keep us free from harm this day:

Our hearts and lips may he restrain;
keep us from causing others pain,
that we may see and serve his son,
and grow in love for everyone.

From evil may he guard our eyes,
our ears from empty praise and lies;
from selfishness our hearts release,
that we may serve, and know his peace.

–John Mason Neale
#4 The Episcopal Hymnal 1982

I must say that this hymn/prayer is a wonderful and worthy way to start one’s day. It is one of the lesser known hymns of the great hymn writer John Mason Neale, Anglican priest and scholar, who was educated at Sherborne School, Dorset, and Trinity College, Cambridge, where (despite being said to be the best classical scholar in his year) lack of ability in mathematics prevented him taking an honours degree. Neale was named after the Puritan cleric and hymn writer John Mason (1645–1694), of whom his mother Susanna was a descendant.

A dour looking guy, probably still bitter about those low math scores.

Neale’s most enduring and widely known legacy is probably his contribution to the Christmas repertoire, most notably “Good Christian Men, Rejoice” and his original legendary Boxing Day carol, “Good King Wenceslas”. He was also responsible for much of the translation of the Advent hymn “O come, O come, Emmanuel”, based on the “O Antiphons” for the week preceding Christmas and his hymn “A Great and Mighty Wonder” (translated from the Greek of St Germanus).

Since Neale died on the Festival of the Transfiguration, he is commemorated by the Anglican churches on the following day, 7 August. He is also commemorated in the Calendar of Saints of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America as a hymn writer on 1 July with Catherine Winkworth.

1 Comment
October 20, 2011

Well, that’s one way to look at it.

by chuckofish

On the spiritual journey, there is usually someone in our family, business or community whom we cannot endure, someone who has a genius for bringing out the worst in us. No matter what we do, we cannot seem to improve the relationship. They have not done anything to cause it. God simply uses them to reflect back to us what our problem is. Thus the person who gives us the most trouble may be our greatest gift from God.

–Thomas Keating

3 Comments