How Great A Cloud of Witnesses

και την προσ υψος ουρανου θειαν ανληψιν He Mounts to Where the Azure Shines

Accept our evening prayer,
O Holy Christ our Lord,
And grant forgiveness of our sin
According to Thy word,
Who, by Thy rising, hast revealed
A power that lay from man concealed.
Oh come, ye people, come,
Give praise to Christ your God;
The glory of His rising tell
To all the world abroad:
For He is God, whose power hath hurled
The great accuser from the world.
Encompass Zion round,
And in her midst proclaim
The glory of the Son of God,
Who back from bondage came;
Who burst the gates of death, to win
Our freedom from the yoke of sin.
Thy Passion, Lord, hath freed
Our souls from passion’s reign;
Nor may we know corruption base,
Since Thou hast risen again;
Glory to Thee, O Christ the Lord,
Son of our God, Incarnate Word! (Extracted from Hymns of the Early Church edited by John Brownlie)

Note: Obviously this constitutes a bit of a diversion from Church Fatherly stuff but this is the prayer I find myself saying as we approach Holy Saturday and I just wanted to share it with all of you. It is Sinead O’ Connor’s song, “Something Beautiful.” It is such a beautiful song, especially for listening. You might look it up. Well, in fact here is a link for you! Simply click on “Music” when you arrive on the website. All the blessings of Christ’s resurrection for you–Meg

“Something Beautiful”

I wanna make
Something beautiful
For you and from you
To show you
To show you
I adore you
Oh you

And your journey
Toward me
Which I see
And I see
All you push through
Mad for you
And because of you

I couldn’t thank you in ten thousand years
If I cried ten thousand rivers of tears
Ah but you know the soul and you know what makes it gold
You who give life through blood

Oh I wanna make something
So lovely for you
‘Cus I promised that’s what I’d do for you
With the bible I stole
I know you forgave my soul
Because such was my need on a chronic Christmas Eve
And I think we’re agreed that it should have been free
And you sang to me

They dress the wounds of my poor people
As though they’re nothing
Saying “peace, peace”
When there’s no peace (2x)

Now can a bride forget her jewels?
Or a maid her ornaments?
Yet my people forgotten me
Days without number
Days without number
And in their want
Oh in their want
And in their want
Who’ll dress their wounds?
Who’ll dress their wounds?

Amen
Amen
and Amen.

Christ the Word! Thine Incarnation

Christ the Word! Thine incarnation
Links my nature to Thine own;
By Thy sore humiliation,
I am lifted to Thy throne;
By Thy suffering Thou hast fired me
With a zeal to sacrifice,
And to noble life inspired me:
Hence my grateful songs arise.
Word of God! Thy crucifixion
Hath upraised me from the earth;
By Thy death and dereliction,
Thou hast given me nobler birth;

By Thy resurrection glorious,
Life immortal now I own:
Hence ascend my songs victorious
To Thy praise, O Christ the Son.
By Thy hand at the creation,
Thou didst form me from the ground,
And, to mark my kingly station,
With Thine image I was crowned;
And that hand, when pierced and bleeding,
Raised me from corruption’s mire;
And, though all this love unheeding,
Decked me with Divine attire.
Thou who gav’st my soul its being,
Breathing in me life Divine,
Didst, by Thine all-wise decreeing,
Unto death Thy life resign;
And from death my soul defending,
Thou didst sojourn with the dead,
That Thou might’st, my fetters rending,
Raise me up, Thou glorious Head!

Shame be on your heads abiding,
Disobedient people now,
Who to death, and vile deriding,
Caused the Word of God to bow!
Shame! for death, nor powers infernal,
Nor the dark of hades’ gloom,
Could retain the King Eternal
In the bondage of the tomb. (This hymn can be found in John Brownlie’s translation of Hymns of the Early Church. At ccel.org, simply do a search for John Brownlie’s name, look under the category “Palm Sunday” and you will find it easily.)

Scripture Extract: John 13:6-9
He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!”

Prayer:
Friend, I would give everything for you. But to promise this is already to misunderstand you, already to disbelieve you, for you alone are all in all and apart from you I can do nothing. Gracious Lord, you have called us friends. Then bind us to your goodness and bless us again to live truly in friendship with you. Through Jesus Christ we pray this. Amen.

Δοξα εν υψιστοις Θεϖ
Bethlehem Rejoices
By St. John of Damascus, 780 A.D.

Bethlehem rejoices!
Hark the voices clear,
Singing in the starlight
Nearer and more near.
Unto God be glory,
Peace to men be given;
This His will who dwelleth
In the heights of heaven.
Heaven cannot contain Him,
Nor the bounds of earth,
Yet, oh glorious mystery!
Virgin gives Him birth.
Unto God be glory,
Peace to men be given;
This His will who dwelleth
In the heights of heaven.
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Now the light ariseth
In the darkened skies,
Now the proud are humbled
And the lowly rise.
Unto God be glory,
Peace to men be given;
This His will who dwelleth
In the heights of heaven. (Extracted from Hymns of the Early Church, Transl. John Brownlie)

Lo The Clouds of Night are Rending
Lo, the clouds of night are rending,
Clad in light, heavenly bright,
Herald hosts to earth descending,
Hail approaching morn.
Hail the morn with heavenly singing,
And the song, they prolong,
News untold to earth is bringing,
Of Immanuel born.
Fearful watchers, see the glory,
Cease to gaze with amaze;
Herdsmen, sages, list the story,
Peace abides on earth.
49
Glory! sons of men repeat it,
Heavenly morn, Christ is born,
Lift your eyes to heaven and greet it,
Greet Immanuel’s birth.
Gone the dismal years of waiting,
Angels bright, shed your light!
Peace hath banished ill and hating,
On this glorious morn.
Glory be to God ascending,
And the Son, who hath won
Life for man in bliss unending,
Now the Christ is born. (Extracted from Hymns of the Early Church, transl. John Brownlie)

See the King of kings ascending
To His throne of power again;
Who in humble garb descending,
Came to dwell with lowly men.
Glad the angel hosts adoring
Fling the golden gates aside;
Mortals, view the Victor soaring,
Heaven receives the Lord with pride.
Strike your harps, ye choirs supernal;
Lift your songs of welcome now;
For behold, your King eternal
Comes with laurels on His brow.
Gone the sorrow and the sighing,
All the anguish and the pain;
Gone the weakness and the dying–
Choirs immortal, raise the strain:
Hallelujah! endless glory
To the King of Glory give;
Mortals, heed the gladsome story,
Christ is risen, and thou may’st live! (Extracted from Hymns of the Early Church, transl., John Brownlie. Please see ccel.org)

Glorious from the field of strife,
Lo! the Victor mounts His throne;
Lord of death and King of life,
His the triumph, His alone–
Glorious from the field of strife,
Christ, Immortal King of Life.
Wake to gladness, sons of men!
Heaven, your gates eternal raise!
Welcome to your bliss again
Him, the worthiest of praise–
Glorious from the field of strife,
Christ, Immortal King of Life.
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Ah, the rage of angry foes!
Ah, the garments rolled in blood!
Where were dealt the fiercest blows,
There the valiant Victor stood–
Glorious on the field of strife,
Christ, Immortal King of Life.
Sin and death–the twain assailed,
And the Christ expiring fell;
But the Death o’er death prevailed,
And the might of sin and hell;
Victor from the field of strife,
Hail! Immortal King of Life. (Extracted from Hymns of the Early Church, transl., John Brownlie)

O Light that knew no dawn,
That shines to endless day,
All things in earth and heaven
Are lustred by Thy ray;
No eye can to Thy throne ascend,
Nor mind Thy brightness comprehend.
Thy grace, O Father, give,
That I may serve in fear;
Above all boons, I pray,
Grant me Thy voice to hear;
From sin Thy child in mercy free,
And let me dwell in light with Thee.
21
That, cleansed from filthy stain,
I may meet homage give,
And, pure in heart, behold
And serve Thee while I live;
Clean hands in holy worship raise,
And Thee, O Christ my Saviour, praise.
In supplication meek
To Thee I bend the knee;
O Christ, when Thou shalt come,
In love remember me,
And in Thy kingdom, by Thy grace,
Grant me a humble servant’s place.
Thy grace, O Father, give,
I humbly Thee implore;
And let Thy mercy bless
Thy servant more and more.
All grace and glory be to Thee
From age to age eternally. (Extracted from Hymns of the Early church, transl., John Brownlie)

What shall we bring to Thee?
What shall our offering be
On this Thy natal morn?
For Thou, O Christ, hast come to earth–
A virgin mother gave Thee birth–
For our redemption born.
The whole creation broad
Gives praise and thanks to God,
Who gave His only Son;
And list! the bright angelic throng
Their homage yield in sweetest song,
For peace on earth begun.
65
The heavens their glory shed,
The star shines o’er His head,
The promised Christ and King;
And wise men from the lands afar,
Led by the brightness of the star,
Their treasured offerings bring.
What shall we give Thee now?
Lowly the shepherds bow,
Have we no gift to bring?
Our worship, lo, we yield to Thee,
All that we are, and hope to be–
This is our offering. (Extracted from Hymns of the Early Church, transl., John Brownlie)