Full of surprises

FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Readings

The Epistle—1 Corinthians 3:16-23

We are God’s temple, and God’s Spirit lives in us.  We should seek the Wisdom of God, and not of the world.  All things belong to believers, we belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God.

The Gospel—Mark 11:1-11 (12-18)

The week before Passover, Jesus enters Jerusalem riding a colt, and is hailed as the One who comes in the name of the Lord.  Afterwards, he cleanses the Temple.

Reflection

You may notice a change in the format of this blog.  Currently I’m testing out different ways to make this blog more interactive and engaging.  I believe that the Christian message is a unique blend of ancient wisdom that has something to say to everyone, regardless of spiritual background.  In short, I’m not looking to proselytize or to convert; I’m more interested in exploring the ways that tradition and modernity intersect, and how ancient words and ideas can still speak to us today.  I want to contribute to the same interfaith dialogue and exchange that has inspired my own life.  And I figured that the first Sunday of Advent, the beginning of the liturgical year, would be the perfect time to start.

This year will also feature a set of readings I have chosen to supplement the Historic Lectionary, which I used last year.  This move comes as a result of a compromise between the need to preserve the themes of the traditional liturgical year, and a desire to look for those same themes in other parts of Scripture, and not just use the same texts over and over.

And so we come back full circle—to Palm Sunday in Advent.  As I wrote last year, I believe this out-of-season reference is deliberate.  Many first-century Judeans hailed Jesus as the Messiah, expecting that he would forcefully overthrow Roman rule.  His death barely a week later shattered those hopes, but gave life to a different kind of hope.  Similarly, last week we had the vision of Christ coming to the world as King and Judge on the Last Day.  But now, a week later, the start of Advent reminds us of a different coming of Christ, namely as a newborn child, given his first day of life.  

The message is clear.  God is full of surprises.  When we clamor for God to come in judgment, wrath, and even violence, God surprises us by coming to us in humility, peace, and even helplessness.  And when we’re eager for God to intervene directly in the world, God reminds us that we, too, are a world unto ourselves.  As English writer and polymath Thomas Browne once put it, “There is no man alone, because every man is a microcosm, and carries the whole world about him.”  After all, one of the first things Jesus did when he got to Jerusalem was to enter the Temple and cleanse it—and Paul reminds us that we are God’s temple, and that God lives in us.

Advent reminds us that God already has intervened in the world—not just once, through one unique life long ago, but also by entering directly into all our lives, our own worlds, every day.

Questions

These questions are intended for all—people of faith, of a different faith, or even no faith.

The Judeans greeted Jesus as their king and liberator, the one who would eject Rome from Jerusalem.

How do you greet God (Spirit, the Higher Power, the Universe, Life, etc.) every morning?

How do you imagine your Higher Power comes to you?  With goodness? Triumph? Salvation? Healing? Wrath? Judgment?

What might your answer say about yourself?

Do you leave room for Life’s surprises?

How do you welcome the new day?  Is it a fresh start?  Is it a burden?

Do you meet it head on, or does it feel distant, lost in the crowd?

Paul says that we are God’s temple, and God’s Spirit lives within us.

In this season of preparation for Christ’s birth, do you really believe or act like you are God’s temple?

What does that even mean—to be God’s temple?  To have the Divine dwelling inside you, even now?

How do you honor the body you have?

If an estranged loved one suddenly were to arrive, what would they say upon meeting you?

Do you need a little “temple”-cleaning?

Prayer of the Day

Eternal God,

through long generations you prepared a way

for the coming of your Son,

and by your Spirit

you still bring light to illumine our paths.

Renew us in faith and hope,

that we may welcome Christ to rule our thoughts

and claim our love,

as Lord of lords and King of kings,

to whom be glory always.

Amen.

—Collect #2 for the First Sunday of Advent in the Book of Common Worship (1993)

Hymn: “Come, O long expected Jesus”, by Charles Wesley

Worship Song: “Hosanna (Praise Is Rising)”, by Paul Baloche

Hard questions

SUNDAY BEFORE ADVENT

(Christ the King; the Reign of Christ)

Readings:

Revelation 19:4-9

Matthew 25:31-46

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):

Rev. 19:6b-7: “Hallelujah!  For the Lord our God, the Almighty, reigns!  Let us rejoice and be exceedingly glad, and let us give the glory to him.”

Matt. 25:34-36: “Then the King will tell those on his right hand, ‘Come, blessed of my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you… for I was hungry, and you gave me food to eat.  I was thirsty, and you gave me drink.  I was a stranger, and you took me in.  I was naked, and you clothed me.  I was sick, and you visited me.  I was in prison, and you came to me.’”

Reflection

Where were you when Paris was attacked on Friday, November 13^th?  I heard the news in Philadelphia, where I had been catching up with college friends, whom I hadn’t seen in over eight years.  Immediately I thought of where I was on September 11^th, when, ironically, I was in college with one of those same friends.  Moments of sudden tragedy and bloodshed have a way of becoming part of us, snapshots in time that sear themselves into our minds and hearts, resurfacing when we least expect them.

In its wake, the attack on Paris, which claimed about 130 lives, has stirred up tensions worldwide regarding some very delicate and complex issues, such as how to respond to the Islamic State, terrorism, the Syrian refugee crisis, and general opinions about Muslims.  France launched an air strike against the Islamic State, bombing one of their main cities.  European and American borders began to tighten, with some officials calling for heavier screening of migrants, and others simply refusing them entry.  It doesn’t help that one of the terrorists may have entered Europe as a refugee.  That reality, in turn, served to fuel popular backlash against Muslim communities, many of which themselves condemn the attacks as contrary to the spirit of Islam.

And into the midst of all of this, comes the last Sunday of the church year, on which we celebrate “Christ the King” or “the Reign of Christ.”  The feast day itself is relatively new (from the early 1900s), but mixes in themes of the “End Times” or the “Final Judgment”, which are appropriate to the last Sunday of the liturgical year.  Thus today’s appointed Gospel is a vision of that Final Day when Christ the King rewards those who treated strangers with compassion and selflessness, saying that “because you did it to one of the least of these… you did it to me.”

Ouch.  For me, if ever a confluence of events serves to test and challenge my faith, this is it—because I am convinced that the general reaction to the Paris attacks is incongruent with the Christian message.  The enthroned Christ, who is King of all, clearly encourages his followers to see him, not in that majestic glory, but in the eyes and hearts of the hungry, thirsty, naked, sick, and imprisoned.  And this is not the only place he does that—the Parable of the Good Samaritan comes to mind too, where he encourages us to treat an enemy like a friend.  And yet, how do we look for Christ in the eyes and heart of someone who is bent on causing harm?  Someone who exploits the genuine suffering of others in order to sneak in and kill indiscriminately?

As fewer and fewer people in Western culture identify as religious, maybe these questions don’t matter as much.  But for us who follow Jesus, we have to ask ourselves—can we love our enemy without hating our friend?  Yes, we must always speak out against discrimination and prejudice.  But it takes two to practice nonviolence, and so we also have an obligation to listen to those who have genuine concerns about safety and logistics.  And we also have to confront our own hypocrisy.  I can’t refuse to admit refugees into my country when my own Savior was once denied shelter.  But I also can’t criticize those who would close their borders, when I’m not prepared to open the doors to my own home.  Maybe the answers lie in asking the hard questions; in trying sincerely to understand a different point of view; in sifting through what lies at the heart of all of us, and seeking that common ground that enables us to come together, and truly start to act like the blessed ones of the Father.

Prayer of the Day

Almighty and everlasting God,

it is your will to restore all things

in your well-beloved Son,

the King of kings and Lord of lords.

Mercifully grant that the peoples of the earth,

divided and enslaved by sin,

may be freed and brought together

under his most gracious rule;

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, now and forever.

Amen.

—Collect “Of the Reign of Christ” from the Book of Common Prayer.

Almighty God,

none can make void your sovereign purpose.

Give us faith to be steadfast

amid the tumults of the world,

knowing that your kingdom shall come,

and your will be done,

to your eternal glory;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, now and forever.

Amen.

—Collect #2 for the “33^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time” from the Book of Common Worship.

Hymn: “At the name of Jesus”

(Words: Caroline Maria Noel, 1817-1877; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2015

Tune: ‘King’s Weston’, by Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1872-1958)

At the name of Jesus, every knee shall bow,

Every tongue confess him King of glory now.

It’s the Father’s pleasure we should call him Lord,

Who from the beginning was the mighty Word.

Humbled for a season to receive a Name

From the lips of sinners, down to whom he came,

Faithfully he bore it spotless to the last,

Brought it back victorious, when from death he passed;

Bore it triumphant with its human light,

Through all ranks of creatures, to the central height,

To the throne of Godhead, to the Father’s breast,

Filled it with the glory of that perfect rest.

Name him, Christians, name him with love as strong as death.

Name with awe and wonder and with bated breath.

He is God the Savior, he is Christ the Lord,

Ever to be worshipped, trusted and adored.

In your hearts enthrone him; there let him subdue

All that is not holy, all that is not true.

Crown him as your Captain in temptation’s hour.

Let his will enfold you in its light and power.

Christians, this Lord Jesus shall return again

With his Father’s glory over earth to reign,

For all wreaths of empire meet upon his brow,

And our hearts confess him King of glory now.

Finish line (the vision of God)

TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY

Readings:

Colossians 1:3-14

Matthew 9:18-22

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):

Col. 3:9-11:  “[B]e filled… in all spiritual wisdom and understanding… to please [God] in all respects, bearing fruit in every good work… strengthened with all power… for all endurance and perseverance with joy…”

Matt. 9:22: “But Jesus, turning around and seeing her, said, ‘Daughter, cheer up!  Your faith has made you well.’  And the woman was made well from that hour.”

Reflection

Here we are at the finish line, at the last of the traditional 24 Sundays after Trinity, at the end of our self-struggles, the passions that rage within us, and the lessons we have needed to learn as people of faith.  Where has all of that led us?  To answer that, I will rely on Reverend David Phillips’ article, “The Rationale of the Trinity Season Lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer,” which I credit for not only having inspired me to write this blog, but also to explore the 1500-year-old wisdom that lies at the heart of our Christian tradition, wisdom that still speaks to us today.

We get a sense of completion or finality from the excerpt from the Letter to the Colossians.  Paul—or someone writing in his name—gives thanks to God for this congregation, not just because of their faith and hope in Christ, but also because of “the word of the truth of the Good News, which has come to you.”  And then, just as the keyword was “one” at the beginning of the union cycle seven weeks ago (“one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God…”), today it’s “all”: “all spiritual wisdom… all respects… every good work… all power… all endurance.”  After our long 24-week journey, we have reached the One who is the All, the One who gives All, the One “who delivered us out of the power of darkness, and translated us into the Kingdom of the Son of his love.”

What is it like to be brought over into the Kingdom of God?  Today’s Gospel presents us with a story—actually, two stories in one.  A ruler comes to Jesus because his daughter has died, but he has faith that if Jesus comes to her, she will live.  Along the way, a woman suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years, comes behind Jesus and secretly touches his garment, hoping to be healed.  Jesus turns around, looks at her, and tells her to “cheer up!  Your faith has made you well.”  Then, upon reaching the ruler’s house, he resurrects his dead daughter.  Well, that’s not quite true—the traditional excerpt from the Gospel deliberately cuts out the resurrection.  Rev. Phillips suggests that it’s “perhaps a sign that it is to be read allegorically,” and when we do, a treasure trove of mystical food for thought is opened.

The other Gospels tell us that the dead girl is twelve years old, the same number of years the older woman has suffered illness.  Are we supposed to make a connection between these two women?  Paul has told us earlier in this season that our old self has been crucified with Christ, and that we are now to put on our new self.  Is that what has happened?  Did our old self—represented paradoxically by the young, immature girl—die, and has our new self—the older, wiser woman—risen to new life?

In iconography, the bleeding woman is usually pictured near the ground, reaching for Jesus’ garment, and Jesus lifts her up to talk to her.  Can this also be a picture of the soul, worn after years of struggling with the passions, reaching out to God with her last bit of strength?

The bleeding woman reaches out to Jesus,
just as the soul continually reaches out to God.

Does God in Christ turn around and lift us up into the very fullness of God?  Are we assured that our final reward is the vision of God?  A God who raises us up into wellness, wholeness, and newness of life?

Jesus lifts up the woman into health,
just as God lifts up our souls into heaven.

They say it takes thirty days to create a new habit.  Does it take twelve years to conquer the passions and master ourselves?  Does it take twenty-four years to align our own fractured lives with God’s free flow of life and healing?  I don’t think we can say for sure; allegory takes us many places, but never towards literalism.  But the core message of this season has stressed that such progress is possible, if we commit to it.  Albert Einstein once defined insanity as “doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results.”  But what if we do the same thing over and over again, year after year, Trinity Season after Trinity Season, aiming for the same result, committed to the same goal?  Maybe that’s the definition of faith.  And when we believe that God is both our beginning and our end, suddenly our journey doesn’t seem so long.

Prayer of the Day

Lord, we pray you,

keep your household, the Church,

in continual godliness,

that, through your protection,

it may be free from all adversities.

and devoutly given to serve you in good works,

to the glory of your Name;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Original Collect for Trinity 24 from the 6^th-century Gregorian Sacramentary

Almighty God,

by our baptism into the death and resurrection

of your Son, Jesus Christ,

you turn us from the old life of sin.

Grant that we who are reborn to new life in him

may live in righteousness and holiness all our days;

through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

—A collect for “Daily renewal” in the Evangelical Lutheran Worship (2006).

Hymn: “Be now my vision”

(Words: early 8^th-century Irish hymn, translated to English prose by Mary Byrne, then versified as ‘Be thou my vision’ by Eleanor H. Hull in the 19^th century; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2015

Tune: ‘Slane’, Irish ballad melody, arranged by David Evans)

Be now my vision, O Lord of my heart.

I seek nought else save the love you impart;

You, my best thought, by day or by night,

Waking or sleeping, your presence my light.

Be now my wisdom, and be my true word;

I ever with you, and you with me, Lord.

You, my great Father, your own may I be;

I at one with you, you dwelling in me.

High King of heaven, when vict’ry is won,

May I reach heaven’s joys, bright heaven’s Sun!

Heart of my heart, whatever befall,

Still be my vision, O Ruler of all.

Living in the gray (union of lust)

TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY

Readings:

Philippians 3:17-4:1

Matthew 22:15-22

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):

Php. 3:18, 19: “For many walk… as the enemies of the cross of Christ, whose end is destruction, whose god is the belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who think about earthly things.”

Matt. 22:21: Jesus said to the Pharisees, “Give therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

Reflection

The encounter between Jesus and the Pharisees in today’s Gospel reading has always been one of my favorites.  It’s witty, short and to the point—very likely how the historical Jesus might’ve actually spoken.  The Pharisees try to trap Jesus with a false dichotomy, choosing loyalty either to God or to the Roman emperor.  Jesus doesn’t fall for it, but says simply that we need to give to the emperor and to God the things that belong to both of them.  Yes, his answer reminds me of the ambiguous answers politicians often give, but Jesus correctly perceives that life is not either/or, black-or-white.  While we live in this world, we’re called to live in the gray area, to figure out for ourselves what belongs to whom, and to give each no more, no less.

What does that example have to say for this last Sunday of uniting the passions to ourselves, specifically to the union of lust, which we explore today?  Again, remember that “lust” here is not restricted to sexual passion, but to all kinds of impulsive desires.  If our goal has been to re-align our passions with God’s will and free flow of life, then the answer becomes clear.  While we live in this world, we need to give in to some desires, but we give them no more, no less than is necessary.  We give in to the lust for food, not to become gluttonous, but to survive.  We give in to the lust for sex, not to become lost in pleasure, but to enjoy the gifts of partnership and love.  We give in to the lust for power, not to wield authority or control, but for the benefit of others.

Of course, living in the gray area is far from easy.  Jesus ultimately found himself on the cross when he decided what he would, and would not, give to this world.  I think this is what Paul refers to in the selected Epistle reading for the day.  He mentions—tearfully—“enemies of the cross of Christ.”  I don’t think that phrase is just a passing reference to persecutors of Christians.  I think it’s a warning to anyone who thinks life should be easy, comfortable, and pain-free, because that’s the exact opposite of the Christian message.  We know that to cross over into new life, we have to bear our cross in this life.  For most of us, our burdens won’t be as heavy as Jesus’, but it doesn’t mean they won’t weigh on us any less. 

We are more than just human.  We were made for more than this life.  That’s the truth that runs behind every spiritual tradition we’ve ever known as a human race.  But when we try to seek only what satisfies our impulses—serving the god of our belly, as Paul puts it—we run the risk of forgetting this spiritual truth.  We remain bound to “earthly things” because we begin to give more to the world than we should, instead of trying to do the hard work of self-monitoring that living in the gray calls us to.  Paul reminds us of our true home and our true Master—and next week, that’s precisely where we’re headed.  But for right now, in this present life, that realization is what we have to hold on to, so that, in times of trial, we don’t lose sight of who we really are.

So what happens now?  We’ve spent 23 Sundays living in the gray, purging ourselves of the wrongful use of our passions, seeking the light of Holy Spirit upon them, and finally becoming at one with ourselves and with God.  Where does this journey take us and what awaits us there?  What does it look like to step into the Presence of God as whole persons?  Paul writes that our mortal bodies of humiliation will be transformed to conform to Christ’s body of glory, by the same power that Christ uses to subject all things to himself.  That’s the hope we need to stand on; that’s the faith we need to take with us to the end of our journey.

Prayer of the Day

Grant, we pray you, merciful Lord, to your faithful people

pardon and peace,

that they may be cleansed from all their sins,

and serve you with a quiet mind;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Original Collect for Trinity 23 from the 6^th-century Gregorian Sacramentary

Banish our crimes, O Lord,

for we are in the dominion of adversity,

and keep us everywhere in your compassion;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

—Collect #2 from the 5^th-century Gelasian Sacramentary.

Hymn: “Eternal light, shine in my heart”

(Words: Christopher Idle, born 1938, from a prayer by Alcuin, eighth century; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero

Tune: ‘Jacob’ by Jane Manton Marshall, born 1924)

Eternal light, shine in my heart.

Eternal hope, lift up my eyes.

Eternal pow’r, be my support.

Eternal wisdom, make me wise.

Eternal life, raise me from death.

Eternal brightness, help me see.

Eternal Spirit, give me breath.

Eternal Savior, come to me;

Until by your most costly grace,

Invited by your holy word,

At last I come before your face

To know you, my eternal Lord.

Debt-free (union of greed)

TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY

(All Saints’ Day)

Readings:

Philippians 1:3-11

Matthew 18:21-35

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):

Php. 1:6, 7, 9: “He who began a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ… I have you in my heart… you all are partakers with me of grace… I pray that your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge and all discernment.”

Matt. 18:33: “Shouldn’t you also have had mercy on your fellow servant, even as I had mercy on you?”

Reflection

We’re now in the final weeks of the Season after Trinity.  And, as we reach that end goal, a sense of finality, or of “wrapping things up,” begins to permeate the assigned readings, especially those from the Epistle.  About seven weeks ago, Paul prayed that we may “walk in the Spirit”, and that “Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.”  Now he is “confident” that “he who began a good work in you will complete it,” and that “you all are partakers with me of grace.”  There’s also the hint of a farewell that accompanies the close of any journey: “I thank my God whenever I remember you… I have you in my heart… I long after all of you.”  With just two more “passions” to go in this final cycle of union, we can feel that we are just steps away from entering into the mystical fullness of God.

Today we return the passion of greed, or covetousness, exploring it through yet another of Jesus’ parables.  Thankfully, this one is a little tamer and perhaps more relatable than that of the murderous king a few weeks ago!  Jesus likens the Kingdom of Heaven to a certain king who, moved with compassion, forgave the debt of a servant who couldn’t pay him back.  However, when this forgiven servant does not show that same compassion to one of his debtors, the king asks him “Shouldn’t you also have had mercy on your fellow servant, even as I had mercy on you?”  Then the king delivered him “to the tormentors”—whoever they are—until he could repay the debt.

We can relate to this parable more because, sadly, we’ve all met people like the unforgiving servant, someone whose wrongdoing was excused, but who refused to “pay it forward.”  Maybe we’ve been that person ourselves, grateful recipients of compassion and forgiveness, but then unable or unwilling to give these to someone else in need.  Jesus says we need to forgive others not just seven times, but “seventy times seven,” and it’s funny to realize that none of the characters in his story ultimately did that.  The king is set up as a role model of forgiveness, but when he finds out about his servant’s hypocrisy, he changes his mind, reinstates the debt, and throws him into prison.  Had that been the king’s final straw?  The 490^th time that he’d forgiven that particular servant?

And while I ponder this point, another comes to mind—the connection that Jesus makes between forgiveness and debt.  We may have encountered this connection before.  Some versions of the Lord’s prayer, following Matthew’s version say “forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.”  And traditionally, Christianity has claimed that Jesus’ sacrifice paid our debt of sin back to God.  I don’t subscribe to this “substitutionary theory of atonement,” but I do find merit in reading between the lines here.  The king in Jesus’ parable threw away the compassion he had felt for his servant, and in doing so, he became indebted to resentment, anger, revenge, and maybe even superiority.  And only forgiveness can cancel that debt.

“Forgiveness is unlocking the door to set someone free—and realizing you were the prisoner!” says Max Lucado.  And so we enter into union with greed/covetousness by releasing all debt.  We release others from the debts they owe us through their wrongdoing.  But, perhaps more importantly, we release ourselves from the debts we take on by bearing grudges, wanting to teach others a lesson, or holding on to anger and pain.  Again, our goal hasn’t been to completely get rid of the passions, but to realign them with God’s purpose.  So if we are to be covetous, then let’s covet others’ compassion and generosity—like the saints', whose day we celebrate today—and not forget these when others need them.  If we are to be greedy, then let’s be greedy for canceling the most debts, and not keep count of how many times we forgive.  That’s how we can become, in the words of today’s collect, “ready both in body and soul” to accomplish what God would have us do.

Prayer of the Day

Almighty God,

you have knit together your elect

in one communion and fellowship

in the mystical body of your Son, Christ our Lord.

Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints

in all virtuous and godly living,

that we may come to those ineffable joys

that you have prepared for those who truly love you;

through Jesus Christ our Lord,

who with you and the Holy Spirit

lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting.

Amen.

—Collect for All Saints’ Day, in the Book of Common Prayer, 1979

Almighty and most merciful God,

we pray you,

keep us, in your bountiful goodness,

from all things that may hurt us,

that we, being ready both in body and soul,

may cheerfully* accomplish those things

that you would have us do;

through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

*literally, “with open hearts/minds”

—Original Collect for Trinity 22 from the 6^th-century Gregorian Sacramentary.

Hymn: “Who are these like stars appearing”

(Words: “Wer sind die vor Gottes Throne” by Theobald Heinrich Schenck, 1656-1727; translation by Frances Elizabeth Cox, 1812-1897; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2013

Tune: ‘Zeuch mich, zeuch mich’, from Geistreiches Gesang-buch, 1698; harmony by William Henry Monk, 1823-1889)

Who are these like stars appearing,
These before God’s throne who stand?
Each a golden crown is wearing;
Who are all this glorious band?
Alleluia! Hark, they sing,
Praising loud their heav’nly King.

Who are these of dazzling brightness,
These in God’s own truth arrayed,
Clad in robes of purest whiteness,
Robes whose luster ne’er shall fade,
Ne’er be touched by time’s rude hand?
Whence comes all this glorious band?

These are they who have contended
For their Savior’s honor long,
Wrestling on till life was ended,
Following not the sinful throng;
These who well the fight sustained,
Triumph through the Lamb have gained.

These are they whose hearts were riven,
Sore with woe and anguish tried,
Who in prayer have often striven
With the God they glorified;
Now, their painful conflict o’er,
God has bid them weep no more.

These, like priests, have watched and waited,
Offering up to Christ their will;
Soul and body consecrated,
Day and night to serve Him still.
Now in God’s most holy place

Blest they stand before His face.