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|JESUS, YOU WERE BORN AT CHRISTMAS
Jesus, you were born at Christmas,
like us, a child of God.
Born within a Jewish family,
like us, children of God.
Jesus, you lived and died to teach us
God is where love starts.
Jesus, born again at Easter,
born within our hearts.
|SO SEEKS THE MIND, SO YEARNS THE HEART
So seeks the mind, so yearns the heart
for what is true in fact, in art,
Beyond what’s read, beyond what’s told:
A truth that, given all, will hold.
We look to science or to creed,
after our interest or our need.
But creed gives way, as science will:
one trapped in time, one never still.
Some may, for proof, to scripture look:
the Good the ancient honored Book.
Yet words are born of human stock,
and truth eludes a literal lock.
No less than mystery we pursue,
as old as old, and new as new,
A love that God alone imparts,
that, welcomed, dwells in minds and hearts.
This is the Christ, this truth in love,
come from within and “from above,”
A truth our minds receive as just,
a truth our hearts receive and trust.
COULD WE, WITH ALL OUR STRENGTH
Could we, with all our strength, heart, soul and mind,
Love God as Christ has loved, then might we find
Love for our neighbors who differ with us,
Love for our enemies whom we don’t trust.
Only with all our strength, heart, soul and mind
Might we love God and not turn from mankind.
Some good in every heart we may suppose,
But goodness falters when we are opposed.
Who can love enemies out of some good?
Love those against us, because love we should?
Better, more honest to know, from the start,
Only God’s love sustains love in our heart.
Now, when the Church is divided and torn,
When new inclusions are fought as their born,
Our common love of Christ is our one hope,
Christ in our hearts, giving us fuller scope.
May we with all our strength, heart soul and mind,
See, know and trust God’s light for all mankind.
IN FAITH WE SAY CHRIST HAS DIED
In faith we say Christ has died,
who, mortal, did breathe his last.
And though he was killed while crucified,
his death had our common cast.
He died with his work undone,
with few of his words believed,
With so many ties he’d just begun
and scarcely a goal achieved.
In faith we say Christ is ris’n.
Christ’s spirit and God are one.
Alone to the heart this truth is giv’n,
whose telling is never done.
Christ ris’n out of death’s decay,
Christ’s spirit exalted, free
To guide us throughout our mortal way
to God’s own eternity.
In faith we say Christ will come,
for faith knows that Christ is here.
The love that we draw our loving from
abides with us ever near.
And loving is now and ours,
but Christ’s is the world to come.
When life has been won by loving pow’rs,
Christ’s spirit will be our home.
Under a cross we look up to a heaven.
Under a cross we look forward through time.
To all eternal this is the portal.
Christ is our hope, a cross is his sign.
Sign of his faith undiminished by suff’ring.
Sign of his love undiminished by scorn.
Sign of his spirit, God’s very spirit.
Christ is our hope, our fears he has borne.
Under a cross may we not shun its promise.
Under a cross may we grasp it and rise.
To love responding, with love responding.
Christ is our hope, his spirit our prize.
There’s a name too high for the highest sky,
and beyond the deepest sea.
‘Tis a name once heard as a simple word
with uncommon majesty.
But our tongues have trod on the name of God
till it’s lost its mystery.
And we know not how we might use it now
to restore its dignity.
We have grasped the word like a two-edged sword,
marked our bills and coins and pledge,
Where for some it rings, and for some it stings.
And the word’s become a wedge
Between those who claim that this country’s fame
is the work of God’s own hand,
And all those who see a futility
in attaching God to land.
In another time, in another clime,
God was thought a sacred word
That you would not say. The accepted way
was, instead, to say: the Lord.
And the Lord was praised in so many ways,
But God’s name remained supreme.
Pity us today if we can not say
either God, or what we mean.
On a cruel day, in a cruel way,
Christ was hung upon a cross.
And his dying cry to an empty sky
was to One he feared he’d lost.
And if you and I, to the depths or sky,
call a name whose sense we’ve lost,
Tis because we must, for we’ve come to trust
in our Christ upon a cross.