Hark, the glad sound - the Saviour comes!

Written for my very dear friend, Ric, on his appointment as Director of Mission, Ministry and Discipleship in the diocese of Newcastle. The text responds to 1 Kings 19, and more broadly to the whole Elijah story. A hymn for new beginnings (for my dearest brother, R.P. Whaite) Speak to us, Lord, in your whisper, speak to us your words of peace; let us find in fire and earthquake calm for fears and pain’s release. Speak to us in your creation, speak in beauty, wind and flame, feed us with the earth’s good bounty, nourish us to praise your name.   Speak to us, Lord, in your angels, comfort us and soothe our dread. May they bring sustaining shelter Word of life and daily bread. Feed us, Lord, that we may journey onward in the strength you give. Feed us with the bread of angels, heal our hurts and let us live.   Speak to us, Lord, let us listen, call us into fuller life. Send us to bring hope to others, speak your words and share your light. Send us with your ang...

A very short horror story. The church building is based on my curacy church, but absolutely none of this ever happened and the lovely people of my curacy church certainly don't care this much about linens! She never turned the lights on when she arrived. It was habit, mostly. Electricity bills were high enough as it was. And even with the door locked behind her, no point announcing with blazing windows that she was there on her own. Not that she didn’t trust the estate, but she hadn’t been there that long and it was as well to be realistic. And anyway, she needed to learn to love this church, to become at home in it, as her faithful were. Generations of the faithful, in this place; all living on the estate, all coming to St Peter’s. It was their church, really, she sometimes thought, and she was still a foreigner. An interloper, and told herself not to be silly. Can’t be a foreigner if you live here. Can’t be a foreigner if you wander round the church at night without even needing...

Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost (Ezekiel 37: 11b) The roof is ribs of stone with no lungs to loose them, no hammer to prize fossilised saints from the cliffs, no spark to make the stone-carved stars shine. If there were angels in the architecture they too are petrified. Visitors pause admiring the arches, commending the craft yet not seeing (not saying?) there is no life here. No. Life is buried here. Fossils are not extinct, but frozen captive in cold stone. There is a hammer to set the saints free, to make the stars shine. I cannot wield it. I do not grieve for death, I grieve that I cannot stir life. I wait for resurrection. As it is written: Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. These bones shall live. These ribs shall rise. This place shall breathe and carry me on its breath.

When my dear (and much-missed) colleague Zack got a new job and proposed to leave England forever for his native Illinois, becoming rector of Emmanuel Memorial Episcopal Church in the delightfully named Champaign, Illinois, I wanted to write him a hymn in celebration/ mourning. Emmanuel celebrates its patronal at Candlemas, so the theme was obvious - and Zack loves the tune Picardy, so that too was obvious! Go to love the Lord of Light a Candlemas hymn, for the Revd Dr Zachary Guiliano and for his new ministry at Emmanuel Memorial Episcopal Church in Champaign, IL Come into the Lord’s own Temple, come to see the Son of grace dedicated to his Father, Child who set the earth in place. Here where faithful prayer has sounded see the hope for every race. Come to hear the words of Anna to the fearful and forlorn; to those waiting for redemption Anna speaks of coming morn; broken, waiting, lost and hopeless hear her news and look for dawn. Come to see the hope of ages hidden long and now reve...

This goes to a fine, but difficult and obscure tune - I wanted to use the tune because I like it, but perhaps underestimated its difficulty for a congregation! Might work for baptism or for the Easter Vigil, or maybe to accompany sprinkling of a congregation - written in celebration of the dedication of a new font bowl. In the stillness before God spoke words of creation over water the Spirit was brooding in love; and the water thus hallowed is hope of salvation to a world where dry hearts wait for rain from above. As God brought them from Egypt, the people of Israel went safe through the sea where their captors were drowned. Through the river they came to the land that was promised and they drank from the rock in the desert’s dry ground. In the Jordan all righteousness found its fulfilment and Jesus was known as the Father’s dear Son; in the promise thus given is life for all people washed, watered and welcomed, with Jesus made one. Praise God who gives water to feed and sustain us, p...

Frideswide is an obscure saint and very strongly located not just in Oxford, but in Christ Church. I wrote this hymn for her feast day (and our patronal festival) in 2022. It's dedicated to Richard Peers, then our Sub Dean, a priest of huge integrity, wisdom and gentleness from whom I learnt a lot. The tune is Highwood, because I love it. This is the house which holy Frideswide founded strong in God’s peace, unshaken, unafraid, choosing a life of prayer, of love and service, she taught God’s truth and brought God’s gracious aid. Once in this place, she healed God’s hurting people; here from her faith she built a house of grace; now in her presence we her light remember as she beholds our God with glowing face. Here stands the shrine, its fragments found and mended – marble and stone once carved with faithful care – craft that remade it after years of absence; her silent presence and her steadfast prayer. And here we come, to ask again for healing, kneeling in worship at the broken ...

 One of the pieces of liturgy specific to cathedrals is the annual Chrism Mass (or Eucharist with renewal of ministerial vows and blessing of the oils for the ministry of the Church). It's a huge joy and a huge privilege, even though when it happens on the traditional Maundy Thursday, it is also a logistical nightmare. The renewal of ministerial vows is relatively new; the blessing of oils for the three anointings of priestly ministry (oil of exorcism for baptism, oil of healing, oil of chrism for the invocation of the Holy Spirit) very old, and the symbolism of those oils being blessed on Maundy Thursday by the bishop in their cathedral and then taken to the people of the diocese by the clergy carries a lot of theological depth about the ministry of the church flowing from the self-giving love of Jesus and through those ordained to service. There is one published hymn about the oils for ministry, and after several years as precentor I'd got quite tired of it. So I wrote anothe...

Having put up my hymn for the anniversary of the ordination of women to the priesthood, I'm going to put all my hymns on the blog over the next couple of weeks. Anyone is welcome to use them - they are, after all, written to be sung! I've suggested a tune for each - mostly, I wrote the text with that particular tune in mind. Please could you attribute them to me (Revd Philippa White) and I'd love to know if you did use them.  For the diocesan celebration of the thirtieth anniversary of the ordination of women https://harkthegladsound.blogspot.com/2024/05/a-hymn-about-priesthood.html For the Chrism Mass https://harkthegladsound.blogspot.com/2024/05/oils-for-ministry-of-church.html For our Patronal Festival https://harkthegladsound.blogspot.com/2024/05/patronal-festival-hymn-for-frideswide.html Metrical Advent O antiphons https://harkthegladsound.blogspot.com/2024/05/metrical-o-antiphons.html For my friend Ric taking up a new ministry https://harkthegladsound.blogspot.com/202...

I love, love, love the Advent O antiphons. But the traditional chants are not suitable for congregational use and the texts are quite long for unison speech, especially if you're saying them either side of a spoken Magnificat.  Solution: write a metrical version (yes, I know O come O come Emmanuel exists, but it doesn't have all the antiphons and it's a metrical translation of the Latin texts. This is a metrical version of the Common Worship texts.) Suitable, I hope, to sing one verse either side of a spoken Magnificat at Evening Prayer in a parish church or similar. Tune: Come thou redeemer of the earth (or any LM tune you know) O holy Wisdom from the height Whom God first spoke, who rules in might O sweetly order every land O teach us prudence at thy hand. O Adonai, the Holy Name, Revealed to Moses in the flame O Law-giver, O Israel's Balm, O save us, Lord, stretch out thine arm. O Root of Jesse, standing proud, A sign to make kings weep aloud To whom the nations humb...

A hymn for the beginning of new ministry, in a place where prayer has been valid. (Hebrews 11:32-12:2) (Written to celebrate the installation of Sarah Foot as Dean of Christ Church in 2023.) With saints of all the ages we praise our holy Lord, whose death has opened heaven, whose life was once outpoured, who lives and reigns forever, who makes his people one: one with the saints in glory, with hope of life to come. Our kindred are the saints who worked wonders with each breath  and we like them are called by the God who conquered death. So strengthened and befriended by those who went before, may we like them bring healing, and like them hope restore. *Here Frideswide sang God's praises, here prayer was daily heard, a House on firm foundations and trusting in the Word, and at this new beginning our prayers and praise arise: O bless our priests and people, God merciful and wise. We pray for all who worship, we pray for all who lead; our loving God will give us the daily strength we ...

Birinus, a seventh-century Continental churchman, is by tradition the missionary who converted the kingdom of Wessex. As such he is a patron saint of the diocese of Oxford.  A hymn commissioned by the Bishop of Dorchester (Birinus's original see, now an abbey church as the minster centre of an episcopal area in the diocese of Oxford.) The tune for this is Engleberg, and I can't think of any other that will fit it... but do try! With heart aflame, with courage undeterred  Birinus sowed the seed of God's True Word And faith sprang up to life in all who heard: alleluia! Where none had preached before, Birinus went  In faithful service to the God who sent  His only Son to call us to repent: Alleluia! With kindly teaching he showed forth God's grace  And all who listened saw in him Christ's face And knew the Love transcending time and space: Alleluia! And as we celebrate the truth he brought  We join with him to share the faith he taught And praise the God who o...

Called to worship, called to service, called to bring God’s presence near; called to preaching, prayer and blessing speaking peace to conquer fear. Thirty years of joys and sorrows, priestly service gathered here.   We have walked where Christ has called us, borne our cross and suffered pain. To God’s call we have been faithful, and in loss have found our gain. For indeed our God is faithful, and we give our thanks again.   Called to tell salvation’s story, brought in safety through the sea; brought into the new creation, from the weight of sin set free. Called to speak of God’s forgiveness — at our voice let sorrow flee.   Here we stand where earth and heaven meet in praise and offering; here we make Christ truly present, hearts and lives the gifts we bring. Where our hands share blood and body, hearts and souls and voices sing.   In this house of prayer and teaching, where our songs of praise arise, Lord, receive our great thanksgiving joy that echoes to the skies....

This is the story of Benjamin.  He’s been a shepherd all his life; he started as an apprentice to his father when he was eight, and in the years in between he has slept out on hillsides more nights than he can count. Now he’s forty. He’s getting a bit old for sleeping on the ground. His sons, like him, have been his apprentices; now they’re coming up to twenty, they’re doing more of the night work. He still takes the sheep, and the fleeces, to market, though, and he still looks after them in the daytime. And if there’s a wolf around, he won’t find Benjamin an easy mark.  One market day, Benjamin took the fleeces in to Jerusalem as usual. It was the usual bustle of market day – people selling, people buying, crowds pushing their way towards the Temple, a stream of people trying to get out of the Temple, street preachers and Roman soldiers and who knows who else. He never gets used to it. But this morning, his attention was caught by one of the street preachers. He was telling a...

(sermon preached at Christ Church, Advent 4, 22nd December 2019) On this fourth Sunday of Advent, our liturgy directs us to Mary and the part that she plays in the great cosmic drama of God with us, the salvation of the world. The prayers we have prayed as we have lit each candle on the Advent wreath have moved us at a gallop through the story of salvation history – the first candle is the patriarchs and matriarchs, the second the prophets, the third John the Baptist, and the fourth, today, Mary. The prayer Canon Foot prayed as Hamish lit today’s candle reminds us that the light we have been waiting for throughout Advent dawns in Jesus, the child of Mary. And yet our Gospel reading wasn’t about Mary at all. Those of you who were at Matins heard St Luke’s familiar story: in the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a virgin whose name was Mary… But in our reading, instead, the angel goes to see someone else. The angel goes to see Joseph. Unlike Luke, St Matthew t...

sermon preached in Merton Chapel for Evensong of Easter 3 Psalm 86;  Isa 38: 9-20; John 11: 17-44 A few years ago, some American Episcopalian friends introduced me to Lent Madness: an online knockout tournament between saints from every period of Christian history. From Ash Wednesday to the end of Holy Week, the 32 saints nominated from the start of the tournament are whittled down to one, the saint of the year, who is celebrated as the winner of the Golden Halo – via rounds highlighting the saints’ stories, quirky quotes and saint-themed tat. It’s exactly as much fun as it sounds. This year’s winner was Martha of Bethany: and, having followed her through the tournament from the Round of 32 all the way to the Golden Halo, I have come to think that Martha is both interesting and important – important in what she says and does, and also an important element in the structure of John’s Gospel where she is the catalyst for Jesus to reveal himself as the resurrection and ...

a sermon  preached at Christ Church for College Communion on 14/10/2018. Trinity 20 Hebrews 4: 12-end Mark 10: 17-31 +May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O Lord, our Strength and our Salvation. Today is a very exciting day. In a few hours, in Rome, Oscar Romero will be canonised – made a saint. (The question of how one makes a saint is one for another day!) Oscar Romero was the RC Archbishop of San Salvador in the late 1970s, until his death in 1980. As Archbishop, he spoke out in an increasingly corrupt society against social injustice, against poverty and exploitation, against a government that ruled by fear, torturing and assassinating their political opponents. And he died by assassination, shot as he celebrated Eucharist, by a government that was frightened by the truth he spoke. Oscar Romero was one of the major figures in liberation theology, the Catholic theology that grew up in the secon...

A sermon for Epiphany 4, preached at College Communion at Christ Church on Sunday 27th January 2019. Epiphany 4 Nehemiah 8: 1-3, 5-6, 8-10 Luke 4: 14-21 If you had the chance to be present at one event in the life of Jesus – to witness one moment from the gospels – what is the moment you would choose to see? Perhaps the birth of Jesus? Or the feeding of the five thousand? The Sermon on the Mount? The crucifixion? The Resurrection? The Last Supper? We’re unlikely to get our wish. But the moment we would choose has something to do with what we think about Jesus – what is most important for us about his message, his life, his identity. And there’s no wrong answer! Everything about Jesus is important. Everything the gospel writers wrote down was something they judged important enough to remember, and to teach new Christians about – communicating something important about who Jesus was. The Gospel stories are moments, incidents where Jesus, his identity...

A sermon preached at Keble College, as guest preacher for the evening Eucharist, 20/01/2019. I don't usually start sermons with jokes, but after the way this one was received, I see why people do! Epiphany 3 Isaiah 62: 1-5 1 Corinthians 12: 1-11 John 2: 1-11 +May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O Lord, our Strength and our Salvation. As part of my role at Christ Church, I’m chaplain to the cathedral school where the choristers, as well as about a hundred other boys, go; and every week I take an assembly for the Pre-Prep boys. And this week I told them the story we’ve just heard. On reflection, 4 to 7 year olds may be the wrong audience for a story that is essentially about how very nice a good bottle (or three) of wine is. It certainly seemed that way when one boy stuck his hand up and told me his dad had drunk a whole bottle of wine the night before. At this point I tried to catch the teacher’s eye ...

(an old sermon, preached at St John the Baptist, Ermine on  2 6/05/16) When I celebrated my first Eucharist, I looked down at my hands. I couldn’t believe that my human hands – even blessed, even set apart, even still smelling of chrism – could be used by God to make Godself present. How could God entrust Godself into my hands – my sinful, human hands? And more and more, as I’ve been celebrating, I’ve been thinking about the Eucharist as God making Godself completely vulnerable. Those of you who heard my Easter sermons will have heard my image of God as a baker – baking bread which will be taken and ripped apart. Bread which is ripped apart on Maundy Thursday – bread which is the body of Christ, ripped apart on Good Friday on the cross. That’s what Jesus’ words at the Last Supper tell his friends: this bread is my body. This wine is my blood. I am broken; I am poured out for you. So the breaking of the body of Jesus on the cross is made present, made real for us in...