Innkeeper's Song of Praise

I had decided I would preach this Christmas Eve reflecting on the Innkeeper. I wonder what he felt like as he opened the door, probably for the umpteenth time, and there were these two weary travelers who needed a place to stay. But he had no room; his inn was full; as were all the others in town. Imagine too how harried he must have been getting things all ready and those who had arrived checked in and settled.

There was something about this couple though that brought out compassion and care. He didn't know who they were or what was about to happen. But this young woman, so near to delivering her child, needed a place to stay. Even the stable out back would do. And in the end it was perfect given the one who would be born. For his life to begin in such humble surroundings is indicative of the life he would lead and the teachings he would offer later on in his life.

I wonder when the Innkeeper figured it out. Maybe it was after the shepherds left praising God for all they had heard and seen, the miracle they had witnessed. No doubt everyone around them heard their joy and were likewise drawn into this amazing thing that had happened this night.

I wanted a hymn about the Innkeeper for Christmas Eve, but couldn't find one. The one I've written is a song of praise in how the Innkeeper himself was moved spiritually as God touched him in a way that none of the other guests that night could have.

I wonder if there is room in our hearts, souls and busy, hectic lifestyles to find a place for Jesus to be born in us. I wonder if we can be transformed in a way that renews us in our spirits and reminds us of the awesome gift God blesses us with when we do make room for God.

I pray that each of us may recognize in the humility the Christ who comes to us and that we will welcome the peace, joy and promise He has to offer each us, especially in a world and time when so many are hurting, abused, broken and often lost. Maybe there's something we can do that can allow Jesus to be born in us and shine through us to bring healing, hope and comfort to a world in such desperate need.

The tune I chose to write this hymn to is "In Dulci Jubilo". There is a flow in the melody that invites us into the interaction between the Innkeeper and Joseph and the emotions the Innkeeper undoubtedly experienced.

The Innkeeper's Song of Praise

Tune: In Dulci Jubilo

The journey it was long for them

To Bethlehem they made their way

Mary was exhausted

And Joseph knocked without delay

But to no avail

No room in their travail.

The innkeeper, he was forlorn

There truly was no room for them

For this baby to be born

In all the town of Bethlehem

He desired to serve them

Before the coming morn.

His heart was touched with such delight

As God did bless him in that night

In his stable lowly

The son of God most holy

Cradled in the manger

His spirit God did stir

From that day on he knew the gift

Priorities had gone adrift

God did come to change his life

Amidst the darkness of his strife

Hallelujah! Praise to God!

Yes, praise be to God!!

Text: copyright, The Rev. Canon Mark Kinghan, 2018. Not to be reproduced or redistributed in any form without the express written permission of the author.

Ash Wednesday ... "Remember that you are but dust"

I have been reflecting in preparation of Ash Wednesday that there are relatively few hymns that are specific to the day. It is such an important day in the liturgical life of the church that we need to have multiple ways to express its significance and deep theological meaning for us.

Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of a journey that takes us through the wilderness to the week of passion, the cross of Good Friday to the empty tomb of Easter morning. It is a time to grow in our faith and in our commitment to God through how we live our everyday lives as followers of Jesus Christ. The discipline of Ash Wednesday and the rhythm we establish for our Lenten pilgrimage has great potential to lead us into profound spiritual growth as we acknowledge where we are on the journey and accept the grace of God's guidance and direction in terms of where we are going into the future.

Lent, although often dreary and dry by its very nature, can be a very fertile time in which to nourish the seed of faith God has planted within us. That's why taking time for spiritual reflection, prayer, reading of scripture, alms giving and fasting are built in to these 40 days ahead of us.

I always pray at the beginning of Lent that it may be a poignant journey; that I will arrive at Good Friday and ultimately Easter morning ready to enter fully into all that becomes real for me in my life and faith. These days, I hope, will be about intentionally and sincerely being attentive and recognizing the essence of all that is holy.

The words to this hymn came very naturally for me. They speak to me of all that this holy season is meant to be about. And by the end, the final verse, is the reminder and proclamation that we will be renewed and find for ourselves that God's love is indeed previewed.

The tune is one that is familiar; it is the music that goes with "There is a Green Hill Far Away". Perhaps that is not coincidental since that hymn is very much part of the experience of Holy Week and the story of our Lord Jesus' death so that we might have life.

“Remember that you are but dust”

Tune: Horsley Meter: CM

Remember that you are but dust

To dust you shall return;

A journey as we grow in trust

The peace of Christ we yearn.

We mark our foreheads with a smudge

The symbol of the cross

Reminded God holds not a grudge

Our sins are not a loss.

A journey we embark upon

From ashes to the tomb

The blessing of a holy dawn

New life to come in bloom.

And so with faith we enter in

These solemn days of lent

Aware of all that we have been

And all our faith has meant.

Guide us along the road ahead

That we may be renewed

There is no reason to feel dread

God’s love to be previewed.

Text: copyright, The Rev. Canon Mark Kinghan, 2018. Not to be reproduced or redistributed in any form without the express written permission of the author.