Today, September 29, is Michaelmas, The Feast of St. Michael and All Angels. Since this year the observance falls on a Sunday, the feast is transferred to Monday for public worship. I consider Michael to be my guardian angel, although I've been told that isn't possible. However, if you've ever been visited by an archangel, you know. Here's an icon of the Archangel Michael my wife Gay Pogue wrote for me.
I’ve been intrigued by angels for many years. On numerous occasions, I’ve wondered if what I’ve experienced was because of the presence and ministration of an angel. I once asked my friend Rabbi Jimmy Kessler of Galveston to talk to me about the view of angels in Judaism. He told me many interesting things but the one that stays with me involves the role of angels in the providence of God. He said, “The rabbis said that God has assigned an angel to every living thing, even each blade of grass. The angel’s job is to stand beside every blade of grass and say, ‘Grow! Grow! Grow!’”
In celebration of Michaelmas, I wanted to share my appreciation of and curiosity about angels, so today I’m posting an article and some hymns for your consideration. I hope you’ll benefit from them and become acquainted with the angels in your life.
For he shall give his angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways. They shall bear you in their hands, lest you dash your foot against a stone. - Psalm 91:11-12
For a number of years, we have witnessed quite a lot of political rhetoric and harsh treatment of immigrants to the United States, especially along our southwestern border. The treatment of immigrants, whether legal or not, was a biblical and moral issue long before it became a political issue. It is time that people of faith and people of conscience take back the narrative!
When an alien lives with you in your land, do not mistreat him. The stranger who lives as a foreigner with you shall be to you as the native-born among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you lived as foreigners in the land of Egypt. I am Yahweh your God. - Leviticus 19:33-34
Recently, the governors of Texas and Florida have lured immigrants onto busses and airplanes with promises of housing and employment in other states. Upon arrival in those places, the immigrants discovered they were lied to. Taxpayers have footed the bill for that transportation, making all of us complicit in the unjust and inhumane treatment of those aliens. We've also paid for solutions such as uncompleted and ineffective walls on the border, separation of family units, locking immigrants in cages, and sending National Guard units to patrol the border with no actual authority to do anything. Some politicians have borne false witness against the vast majority of immigrants by claiming they are mostly criminals or insane. In fact, the data clearly shows that immigrants are far less likely to commit crimes than our own citizens. In spite of claims to the contrary, undocumented immigrants cannot vote or receive benefits such as Social Security and Medicare.
Politically motivated disinformation and unjust and sometimes brutal policies carried out in the name of U.S. citizens have often been executed by and applauded by people who claim to be followers of Jesus Christ and who claim to be pro-family and believe in the sanctity of life. Nothing about these horrific solutions to our "border crisis" reflects the teaching of Jesus, protects families, or respects the sanctity of immigrant lives.
Many of those entering illegally are not simply immigrants - they are refugees, fleeing violence and/or poverty in their own countries. There are international laws pertaining to how refugees are identified and how they are treated. We helped write those laws!
Some immigrants have been tricked into paying for transportation into the U.S. only to be abandoned or, worse, left inside a hot container to die.
As you can see by clicking the links in this reflection, fact-checking false claims about immigrants is not difficult. It is incumbent upon us as people of faith and as responsible citizens to deal with facts and seek the truth.
I am not suggesting that we have "open borders" or abandon all immigration laws. But I am advocating for less political theatrics and more collaboration on just and humane ways to treat those who are seeking a new life as neighbors in our country. The Partnership for Central America is one example of how to mitigate illegal immigration by making it more desirable to remain in one's country rather than seeking refuge in the U.S. The most comprehensive, bipartisan immigration reform legislation in a generation has been drafted. Political lust has prevented its adoption by Congress. What if people of faith took back the narrative to get it adopted?
Using human beings as pawns in a political game is cruel, un-American, and certainly contrary to biblical standards. The treatment of immigrants is a huge and unambiguous issue in the Old and New Testaments. Here are some examples and reflections from General Board of Church and Society of The United Methodist Church. Feel free to share them and print them out.
Also, here are some online resources for gaining a deeper understanding of what is at stake according to several different religious bodies.
I hope you will give this prayerful consideration and, if you are moved to speak or act as an advocate for just and humane immigration policies, may God give you the grace and the will to do so!
In both the offices of Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer, The Book of Common Prayer of The Episcopal Church includes a series of prayers called Suffrages. In ecclesiastical use, the word Suffrages refers to a series of intercessory prayers. The ones in the current liturgy are the latest version of Suffrages that Anglican Christians around the world have been praying daily since 1549.
In the offices, the Suffrages are arranged in a responsive fashion with the letter “V” representing the versicle. A versicle is a little verse, usually from the Psalms, said by the officiant. The letter “R” represents the response to the versicle. Here are the Suffrages to which I want to draw your attention:
V. Show us your mercy, O Lord; R. And grant us your salvation. V. Clothe your ministers with righteousness; R. Let your people sing with joy. V. Give peace, O Lord, in all the world; R. For only in you can we live in safety. V. Lord, keep this nation under your care; R. And guide us in the way of justice and truth. V. Let your way be known upon earth; R. Your saving health among all nations. V. Let not the needy, O Lord, be forgotten; R. Nor the hope of the poor be taken away. V. Create in us clean hearts, O God; R. And sustain us with your Holy Spirit.
Notice that a little over half of the Suffrages are intercessions for the world, the nation, and the vulnerable. The prayers we offer don’t change God. They call upon God to express those divine qualities and yearnings God has already revealed to us through Scripture, tradition, reason, and experience. When words of prayers leave our lips, it is we who ought to be changed – to become more godly in our words and deeds. These Suffrages, then, prompt us to shape our lives and our behavior to align with the qualities and yearnings of God, especially toward the world, the nation, and the vulnerable among us.
When we pray prayers like this, to borrow a meaningful phrase from the late Congressman John Lewis, we are making “good trouble.” When we pray prayers like this, we are on the verge of becoming the change we would like – and God would like – to see. When we pray prayers like this, we are stepping into the role of ally for those who work for peace and healing, seek justice and truth, and foster tangible hope for those in any kind of need.
As a response to the precarious situation in which we find ourselves, I am making a renewed commitment to pray the Suffrages every day through the end of this year. I invite you to join me.
If you are inclined to pray the entire morning and/or evening office that would be great too. If you have a Book of Common Prayer, you can turn to it. Or there are several online offerings that may be even more helpful in that they provide the daily readings as well as the prayers. I’d be happy to know that some of you are joining me in the Suffrages alone, if that is something you feel moved to do. You choose the time of day. For some, the morning or evening might be most meaningful. For others, the Suffrages might be most appropriate after watching the news or following one of the daily outbursts to which we are becoming all too accustomed.
If something in your life changes because of this spiritual discipline, please let me know!
The greatest lesson I ever learned about faith I learned from my father. I had accidentally pitched a ball into a valley on the roof of our house. instead of getting out a ladder and climbing up to get it for me, dad picked me up to boost me up onto the roof so I could get it myself. I had never been upon the roof before. It was frightening, mostly the getting-up-there part.
When I began to express my fear my dad said, “Don't worry. I won't let you fall.” His hands and arms felt strong. His voice was firm and confident. He had been on the roof himself. He believed I would be okay. So, I forgot my fears and found my faith and dad didn't let me fall.
Through the experience of trusting I discovered that my dad was trustworthy.
I have been able to live my life with an abiding faith, often tested by the things that test everybody's faith. It goes back to that lost ball on the roof, my dad’s strong and loving arms, reassuring voice, and dependable promise, “I won't let you fall.”
That has made it easier for me to trust my heavenly father who promised, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” Earthly parents, though fallible, have a role to play in the formation of faith in their children's lives. In fact, parents are the primary faith-givers. The chief evangelical opportunity for Christian parents is with their children. Even helping a child retrieve a toy stuck on the roof can be an occasion for faith forming. The world needs dads to give their children a fear-conquering faith. Of course, moms do it too. But this is Father's Day.
This reflection is about an epiphany from one of the saints I have known, Marjorie B. Lester. I became Marjorie’s pastor at Houston’s Bering Memorial Church in January of 1978 when she was 95 years old. Marjorie was born in Kentucky in 1882. Her father was murdered when Marjorie was not quite 5 years old. She married when she was 15, bore three children, and was widowed at the age of 46. Somehow, in the early years of her marriage, she managed to study law and was the second woman admitted to the bar in the Commonwealth of Kentucky. Around 1910, the Lester’s moved to Texas, first to Hardeman County, then to Corpus Christi. She told me that following the death of her husband she moved to Houston to take a position in charge of corporate records for United Gas Pipeline, which position she held until her retirement in 1947. After retirement, Marjorie devoted much of her time, talent, and energy to programs for seniors. In 1957, she was appointed to the Governor’s Committee on Aging and in 1958, President Dwight D. Eisenhower appointed her to the White House Conference on Aging. She died at the age of 101. It was my first time to serve as a senior pastor and she was in many ways a mentor to me as she had been for pastors who preceded me. In October of my first year at Bering, our stewardship campaign theme was “Open the Doors.” The pledge cards were printed and folded to resemble the main doors of the church. On the Sunday members were asked to complete their pledge cards and bring them to the Altar, Marjorie raised her walking cane in the air and asked to say a few words to the congregation. She came to the front of the nave, stood facing those who were gathered there, leaned on her cane, and challenged everyone to give generously. She concluded her remarks by pointing to the doors of the church with that cane and saying, “The Apostle Paul would be envious of the mission field at our doorstep.” She then returned to her pew and sat down. 60% of the pledge cards turned in that morning had the original numbers erased or crossed out and higher amounts filled in! Marjorie’s closing words rang in my ears for the remaining eight years I served in that place and they have remained with me ever since. It became my practice at the end of the service to invite worshipers to turn and face the door of the church for the Dismissal. From there, through the door of the church, near the Baptismal Font if possible, and with the Book of the Gospels in my hands, having been nourished by Word and Sacrament, I send Christ's followers into “the mission field at our doorstep.” Above the Choir in the front of that church is a stained glass window I have never especially liked. It is a poor representation of William Holman Hunt’s famous painting of Jesus “The Light of the World” knocking on a door. In Hunt’s painting, there is no latch on the door, the implication being that it must be opened from the inside. However, in this particular window, there is a huge latch right there in front of Jesus. I could never reconcile the window with what I believed about the way Jesus enters our lives. Until recently! A story shared by Bishop Scott Mayer in a sermon at the Ordination of Deacons provided the very insight I needed. It was a story told by a Roman Catholic Cardinal, Blasé Cupich of Chicago – a story about the days leading up to the Conclave to choose the current Pope. In the days leading up to the Conclave, it is their practice for the gathered Cardinals to deliver addresses designed to help their colleagues discern where the Holy Spirit is calling the Church. Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio of Argentina took his turn and remarked that, “In the Revelation to John, Jesus says that he stands at the door and knocks.” “The idea,” he continued, “is that Jesus is knocking from outside the door.” But Cardinal Bergoglio inverted the image … and asked his fellow Cardinals and indeed the whole Church to consider “the times in which Jesus knocks from within so that we will let him come out.” When the Church keeps Christ to herself and does not let him out … it becomes “self-referential – and then gets sick. The Church must go out of itself to the peripheries, to minister to the needy.” Evidently, Cardinal Bergoglio spoke the words the Church needed to hear, for he was called. We know him now as Pope Francis. Jesus wants to lead us out into the mission field at our doorstep, as Marjorie so powerfully envisioned it 45 years ago this month. I rejoice to say that the faithful of Bering Memorial Church are still going out there, responding with love and compassion to the needs of others. The doors continue to open outward and through them all kinds of people come and go. Marjorie was one of them. There is no way to even estimate how many lives she has touched. I am grateful she touched mine and, hopefully, many others who’ve heard my stories about her.
Yesterday, a friend shared a couple of stanzas of a Good Friday hymn written by Seventeenth Century Hungarian poet Király Imre von Pécselyi and translated into English by Twentieth Century Congregationalist minister, composer, and musicologist Erik Routley. The common title of the hymn is “There in God’s Garden” and it is also known as “The Tree of Wisdom.” Alabama composer K. Lee Scott wrote the tune “Shades Mountain” specifically for this text.
I was introduced to the hymn during my two-year residence in Mississippi as Interim Dean of Jackson’s St. Andrew’s Cathedral. It became one of my favorite hymns, with its message of hope for the healing of the nations. Organist/Choirmaster Jessica Nelson led the Cathedral Choir and Congregation in singing it in my last Sunday service there, which was also the occasion for my retirement from active ministry. This seems like a good time to share it.
I invite you to contemplate the words, read the article by Emily R. Brink, and immerse yourself in the music, here sung by the Choir and Congregation of First-Plymouth Church in Lincoln, Nebraska.
There in God’s garden stands the Tree of Wisdom, whose leaves hold forth the healing of the nations: Tree of all knowledge, Tree of all compassion, Tree of all beauty.
Its name is Jesus, name that says, “Our Savior!” There on its branches see the scars of suffering; see where the tendrils of our human selfhood feed on its lifeblood.
Thorns not its own are tangled in its foliage; our greed has starved it, our despite has choked it. Yet, look! It lives! Its grief has not destroyed it nor fire consumed it.
See how its branches reach to us in welcome; hear what the Voice says, “Come to me, ye weary! Give me your sickness, give me all your sorrow; I will give blessing.”
This is my ending, this my resurrection: into your hands, Lord, I commit my spirit. This have I searched for; now I can possess it. This ground is holy.
All heaven is singing, “Thanks to Christ whose Passion offers in mercy healing, strength, and pardon. Peoples and nations, take it, take it freely!” Amen! Our Savior!
Around the middle of Advent every year for a decade, our friend Robert (Bob) McKee would invite us to join him and a group of friends for the Madrigal Dinner at Rice University. The event took place in the Faculty Club/Cohen House on the Rice Campus. Singers from the Shepherd School of Music, under the direction of Tom Jaber, dressed in elaborate Elizabethan costumes and sat at an elevated head table. From that platform, they sang carols and other music of Advent and Christmas. During the meal, magicians, jugglers, and acrobats entertained us. We always had a wonderful time and Bob’s guests became our good friends. Next to the celebration of the Savior’s birth, it was always the highlight of the season.
I was reminded of those Madrigal Dinners, Bob McKee, our friends, and the glorious music today when I heard a recording of the Wexford Carol, the first verse of which was always sung a cappella at the very end of the evening. It became my favorite carol. It gladdens my heart at this time each year.
Listen to this lovely rendition of the Wexford Carol, ponder the lyrics, and steep your soul in the beauty as you prepare for the Natal Feast.
Those occasions brought people together and fostered lasting friendships. Our nation and our world need more such occasions and all the things the Messiah came to bring into the world. Bob has joined the Choir Immortal, as have several of the regular guests. Others remain in touch, though now scattered about the country. Through the years, we've moved around quite a bit and more friends have entered our lives. Gay and I give thanks to God for them and all of you. We pray that you have a blessed Christmas and a New Year filled with love, peace, and goodwill!
The Rev. G. Runge Nease was my Pastor during my spiritually formative teen years. He often recited verses from Psalm 8 as the Opening Sentence for worship, reminding us that God is always mindful of us and that we are created a little lower than the Holy Angels. I can hear his voice even now six decades later proclaiming, "O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy Name in all the earth..."
We may - and often do - forget God, but God never forgets us, is always mindful of us, reaches out to us in Love Divine. I often pray this collect on Thursdays and imagine I'm walking with those disciples along the Road to Emmaus on that first Easter Day. The Risen Christ was their companion on that journey but they didn't recognize him.
Heavenly Father, in you we live and move and have our being: We humbly pray you so to guide and govern us by your Holy Spirit, that in all the cares and occupations of our life we may not forget you, but may remember that we are ever walking in your sight; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Pastor Nease planted the seed of understanding in me that continues to reassure me every step along the way and every hour of every day, God is mindful of me, even when I am not mindful of God. My ultimate worth to my Creator is like that of the Angels.
Here's the Psalm 8 sung in magnificent Anglican chant.
Psalm 8
Domine, Dominus noster
1. O LORD our Governor, how excellent is thy Name in all the world: thou that hast set thy glory above the heavens!
2. Out of the mouth of very babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength, because of thine enemies: that thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger.
3. For I will consider thy heavens, even the works of thy fingers: the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained.
4. What is man, that thou art mindful of him: and the son of man, that thou visitest him?
5. Thou madest him lower than the angels: to crown him with glory and worship.
6. Thou makest him to have dominion of the works of thy hands: and thou hast put all things in subjection under his feet;
7. All sheep and oxen: yea, and the beasts of the field;
8. The fowls of the air, and the fishes of the sea: and whatsoever walketh through the paths of the seas.
9. O Lord our Governor: how excellent is thy Name in all the world.
One of the wisest saints I've ever known was Marjorie Lester. Marjorie was a member of Houston's Bering Memorial Church. She lived to be 101 years old. Before coming to Houston, she was the second woman admitted to the bar in the Commonwealth of Kentucky after her husband was murdered, leaving her a widow with two young sons. In Houston, she was in charge of legal records for one of the natural gas companies.
In my first year at Bering Memorial Church, during the worship service where I was asking worshipers to complete their pledge cards and bring them to the Altar, she asked to speak to the congregation. Leaning on her cane, she said these words, "The Apostle Paul would be envious of the mission field at our doorstep."
Those who recorded the pledges told me that about half of the cards had the first figure erased or crossed out and a higher amount written in, no doubt in response to what Marjorie said.
In one of my last home visits to her in 1986, she said this to me. "Ron, I hope what I'm about to say does not render me a heretic, but when we get to heaven if all we are going to do is stand around God's throne and sing, I'm not sure I want to go."
I replied, "The endless singing is the work of the Angels. We get to join them, but there are other things for us to do there. I'm not sure what our other tasks will be, but I look forward to your being there beside me when the time comes."
I wish I'd had this hymn handy to share with her.
Angel Voices Ever Singing
1 Angel voices ever singing
round Thy throne of light,
angel harps, forever ringing,
rest not day nor night;
thousands only live to bless Thee
and confess thee Lord of might.
2 Thou who art beyond the farthest
mortal eye can scan,
can it be that Thou regardest
songs of sinful man?
Can we feel that Thou art near us
and wilt hear us? Yea, we can.
3 Yea, we know Thy love rejoices
o'er each work of Thine;
Thou didst ears and hands and voices
for Thy praise combine;
craftsman's art and music's measure
for Thy pleasure didst design.
4 Here, great God, today we offer
of Thine own to Thee;
and for Thine acceptance proffer,
all unworthily,
hearts and minds and hands and voices
in our choicest melody.
5 Honor, glory, might, and merit
Thine shall ever be,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
blessed Trinity:
of the best that Thou hast given
earth and heaven render Thee.
Author: Francis Pott (1861)
ANGEL VOICES (Monk) Composer: Edwin George Monk (1861)
While searching for some commentary regarding Holy Saturday, I came across reflections posted by The Rev. Canon Patrick Comerford on his blog. Comerford is a priest in the Church of Ireland (Anglican), Director of Spiritual Formation at the Church of Ireland Theological Institute, and a Canon of Christ Church Cathedral Dublin. While Canon Comerford’s message concerns All Souls Day, a significant portion of it has to do with Christ’s descent to the dead, also known as “The Harrowing of Hell” and that is the excerpt I have chosen to share with you on this Holy Saturday.
Before you read the excerpt, I suggest reading the following passages of scripture:
In the Eastern Orthodox tradition there are several All Souls’ Days throughout the year, especially on Saturdays. Saturday is the day Christ lay in the Tomb, and so all Saturdays are days for general prayer for the departed.
The Western tradition of the Church has traditionally contemplated the cross, and then the empty tomb … and has been totally agnostic about what happened in between, between dusk that Friday afternoon and dawn that Sunday morning. The deep joys of the Resurrection have often been overshadowed in the Western Church by the Way of the Cross, as though the Cross leads only to death. We have neglected Christ’s resting place, his tomb, and given little thought to what was happening in the Holy Sepulchre that holy weekend.
The Eastern Churches, which lack a clearly defined doctrine of Purgatory, have been more comfortable with exploring in depth the theme of Christ’s Harrowing of Hell. For, while Christ’s body lays in the tomb, he is visiting those who were dead.
The icon of the Harrowing of Hell reminds us that God reaches into the deepest depths to pull forth souls into the kingdom of light. It reminds us how much we are unable to comprehend – let alone take to heart as our own – our creedal statement that Christ “descended into Hell.”
The Apostle Peter tells us that when Christ died he went and preached to the spirits in prison “who in former times did not obey … For this is the reason the Gospel was proclaimed even to the dead, so that … they might live in the spirit as God does” (I Peter 3: 15b- 4: 8).
The Early Church taught that after his death Christ descended into hell and rescued all the souls, starting with Adam and Eve, who had died under the Fall. The Harrowing of Hell is intimately bound up with the Resurrection, the Raising from the Dead, for as Christ is raised from the dead he also plummets the depths to bring up, to raise up, those who are dead, no matter where that may be in time and in space. The Harrowing of Hell carries us into the gap in time between Christ’s death and his resurrection.
In icons of the Harrowing of Hell, Christ stands on the shattered doors of Hell. Sometimes, two angels are seen in the pit binding Satan. And we see Christ pulling out of Hell Adam and Eve, imprisoned there since their deaths, imprisoned along with all humanity because of sin. Christ breaks down the doors of Hell and leads the souls of the lost into Heaven. It is the most radical reversal we can imagine. Death does not have the last word, we need not live our lives buried in fear. If Adam and Eve are forgiven, and the Sin of Adam is annulled and destroyed, who is beyond forgiveness?
In discussing the “Descent into Hell,” Hans Urs von Balthasar argues that if Christ’s mission did not result in the successful application of God’s love to every intended soul, how then can we think of it as a success? He emphasises Christ’s descent into the fullness of death, so as to be “Lord of both the dead and the living” (Romans 5).
However, in her book Light in Darkness, Alyssa Lyra Pitstick says Christ did not descend into the lowest depths of Hell, that he only stayed in the top levels. She cannot agree that Christ’s descent into Hell entails experiencing the fullness of alienation, sin and death, which he then absorbs, transfigures, and defeats through the Resurrection. Instead, she says, Christ descends only to the “limbo of the Fathers” in which the righteous, justified dead of the Old Testament waited for his coming.
And so her argument robs the Harrowing of Hell of its soteriological significance. For her, Christ does not descend into Hell and experience there the depths of alienation between God and humanity opened up by sin. She leaves us with a Christ visiting an already-redeemed and justified collection of Old Testament saints to let them know that he has defeated death – as though he is merely ringing on the doorbell for those ready to come out.
However, Archbishop Rowan Williams has written beautifully, in The Indwelling of Light, on the Harrowing of Hell. Christ is the new Adam who rescues humanity from its past, and who starts history anew. “The resurrection … is an introduction – to our buried selves, to our alienated neighbours, to our physical world.”
He says: “Adam and Eve stand for wherever it is in the human story that fear and refusal began … [This] icon declares that wherever that lost moment was or is – Christ [is] there to implant the possibility … of another future.” [Rowan Williams, The Dwelling of the Light: Praying with Icons of Christ, p. 38.]
I ask myself: what’s the difference between the top levels of Hell and the bottom levels of Hell? Is my Hell in my heart of my own creation? In my mind, in my home, where I live and I work, in my society, in this world? Is hell the nightmares from the past I cannot shake off, or the fears for the future when it looks gloomy and desolate for the planet? But is anything too hard for Lord?
The icon of the Harrowing of Hell tells us that there are no limits to God’s ability to search us out and to know us. Where are the depths of my heart and my soul, where darkness prevails, where I feel even Christ can find no welcome? Those crevices even I am afraid to think about, let alone contemplate, may be beyond my reach. I cannot produce or manufacture my own salvation from that deep, interior hell, hidden from others, and often hidden from myself.
But Christ breaks down the gates of Hell. He rips all of sinful humanity from the clutches of death. He descends into the depths of our sin and alienation from God. Plummeting the depths of Hell, he suffuses all that is lost and sinful with the radiance of divine goodness, joy and light.
Hell is where God is not; Christ is God, and his decent into Hell pushes back Hell’s boundaries. In his descent into Hell, Christ reclaims this zone for life, pushing back the gates of death, where God is not, to the farthest limits possible. Christ plummets even those deepest depths, and his love and mercy can raise us again to new life.
[Today], we think again of Christ in the grave, and ask him to take away all that denies life in us, whether it is a hell of our own making, a hell that has been forced on us, or a hell that surrounds us. Christ reaches down, and lifts us up with him in his Risen Glory.
May these thoughts from Canon Patrick Comerford be an epiphany for you on this Holy Saturday. Here's a Charles Wesley hymn that also seems fitting for today.
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