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 ...

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 ...

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...