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воскресенье, декабря 30, 2007

It All Goes Back in the Box

Again, we stand at the threshold of a new year
A year awaiting, the days to be lived through
Minute by minute, hour by hour
crossed out little boxes
never to return, only spent

One of the great universal constants - Time
Great and poor, rich and urchin subject to its tyranny and generosity
For all are given the same each day
Yea, some get to cross out more little boxes, others less,
(before we end up in a little box ourselves)
but the same is expected, no less, of each of us
to give an account of our days.

Teach me to number them then,
my wand'ring days on this green earth,
so I might have a heart of wisdom.
Wisdom to know then, the time and seasons
to know to sow and when to reap
when to plant and to till and to prune
Teach me to know your Spirit's call
to let the north-wind blow on my garden
and let its fragrance, the fragrance of Christ,
a-bound to all who are perishing
Lead us continually in triumphal procession,
bearing the death and resurrection of Christ
the power therein, in meekness and humility!

Another bend, 'round the pilgrim path
fellow peregrines on the journey of faith
toward the wicker gate
and fair Reepicheep calls to us,
amidst the great cloud of witnesses
"Further up and Farther in!"
they chorus, the saints who've gone before us
In the distance the city shines:
pennants fluttering in the winds
and white gulls chatter,
a horn sounds - The White City.

But the time is not yet nigh for most of us
Temperance and temptation, love and life
are yet before us, to make change in community, to affect nations
Thou root of Jesse, have thy life in us
that we bud like Aaron's dry staff
giving life where once there was none
Shine, like stars, Glow like cities on a hill,
life-preserving saltiness.
Looking forward to the upward way
Carpe Aeternum, Carpe Diem

For soon the days will darken
and nights will be long
Hope among men will be fading
and ere grace fades
The time will come when time itself
ceases to run, ceases to exist for us
Our pieces on the board all spent
the reckoning comes - the last door unlocks
When the game is over
it all goes back in the box

So teach us to number our days aright
to have wisdom in our hearts.
Strength for the year ahead,
Renewed mercies for each morning
Sustain us in your abiding grace
as we abide in you, we bear much fruit
Raise in us a holy desperation,
a holy despair with our kingdoms and castles in the air
A righteous despondence with the status quo
and utter disgust at our saccharine trophies which moth and rust destroy
O to be weak enough
to trust you, to rely on you wholly.

More of you, Jesus
and less of me.
That you Increase,
and I decrease.

Amen. אמן
Posted by: JM / 9:08 PM

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