Assurance (Cornucopia of Heaven)



After Giovanni Gabrieli, “Exultavit Cor Meum”


From depths,
            from brokenness, the trumpet
sounds, the trumpet
                        sounds the new,
            it sounds the dawn
                        of low made high.
                                    Exalt, my heart!
            My heart exalts.
                        My eyes will see,
                                    my ears will hear
            O Domino,
                        exalt my humbled knees
                                    and hear
                        the polyphonic joy, the song
                                of humbled, broken
                                     songs arising
                 from the fractured soil,
                        the soul
                                    now sings
                        a trumpet call…

From Ashes: Sturm und Drang

Rembrandt - Christ in the Storm on the Lake of Galilee
Rembrandt – Christ in the Storm on the Lake of Galilee
Out of the storm, He comes,
                        He comes,
clearly, speaking victory –
            comes with calmness in His step
                        and silence for each dread.
Watching mountains quake,
                        they quake
to see such sureness step upon
            these waves of doubting fury; all
                        trembling piques stand still.
And from the storm, He brings,
                        He brings
the resting peace of endlessness,
            the answer which no peace could know,
                        borne here upon the sea.
On through the storm, He reigns,
                        He reigns,
and, sovereign, knows the ebbing tide.
            No wave is wasted in His rule,
                        no feeble vessel lost.

J.S. Bach, Cantata BWV 81, “Jesus schläft, was soll ich hoffen?” (Sigiswald Kuljken) – Read text


What churches, prisons, feudal pyramids
 Possess in common is Authority.
Only the state's power, not the State, exists,
 And power is exchanged through you and me.
Our eyes, transfixed by prison walls, confuse
 The institution with the power it holds
Mixing correct use up with the abuse
 And sovereign love with the despot who scolds.
The immanent passes always before
 Unseeing eyes; it moves within our spheres
Yet renders false our thoughts of love and law.
 For complexity is not as it appears;
We see only power and lines of flight,
But curving through it all, the living Light.