I love the hymnody of the church.  The best hymns have shaped my soul, taught me about Jesus, and helped me to keep Biblical truth close to my thinking, my breathing, and my living.  When I am hurting or confused, overjoyed or excited, it is often a hymn that helps me to express my deepest beliefs and prayers, my most authentic worship and thanksgiving.

One of my very favorite hymns is “How Firm a Foundation.”  In my quiet times of personal prayer, there is no hymn that I have sung more frequently in recent days.  It is a hymn that reminds my heart that, even though the ground often feels unsteady in this angry, divided, and uncertain world, our foundation in the grace of Jesus Christ is unshakable and firm.  This truth speaks to my soul deeply and in a way that gives life and hope.

Here is a recent recording that Tara and I made of this important hymn of faith.  I hope that it falls meaningfully upon your heart.

“How Firm a Foundation”

(From Rippon’s “Selection of Hymns,” 1787; refrain written by Eric Park, 2016)

How firm a foundation ye saints of the Lord,

Is laid for your faith in his excellent Word!

What more can he say than to you he hath said,

To you who for refuge to Jesus have fled?

“Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed,

For I am thy God and will still give thee aid;

I’ll strengthen and help thee, and cause thee to stand,

Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.”

We will stand on your promise

We will live in your grace

We will drink in your mercy

We will know your embrace

Though the ground feels unsteady

Where we walk day by day

We will trust your foundation

We will follow your way

We will trust your foundation

We will follow your way

“When through the deep waters I call thee to go,

The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow,

For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,

And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,

My grace all-sufficient shall be thy supply;

The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design

Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.”

We will stand on your promise

We will live in your grace

We will drink in your mercy

We will know your embrace

Though the ground feels unsteady

Where we walk day by day

We will trust your foundation

We will follow your way

We will trust your foundation

We will follow your way

“The soul that on Jesus still leans for repose

I will not, I will not desert to its foes;

That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,

I’ll never, no, never, no never forsake!”

May I share a brand new song with you? On the occasion of Tara’s birthday (September 26), it is particularly clear to me that there is no sweeter place than by her side, and on her mind, and in her heart. I feel wildly and undeservedly blessed that I get to live in that place. This is a song about that.

“No Sweeter Place”

In the courtship and
In the covenant
In the tears we’ve gently cried
In the prayers and
In the puzzlement
There’s no sweeter place than at your side
In the tensions and
In the resonance
In the shades of grace we find
In my journeys through
Your countenance
There’s no sweeter place than on your mind
No sweeter place
No sweeter place
Than at your side
And on your mind
No matter where
The road will lead me
There’s no sweeter place I’ll ever find
In the Sabbath and
In the silliness
In the pain of time apart
In the warmth and
In the chilliness
There’s no sweeter place than in your heart
In the smiles and
In the somberness
In the fear of life’s extremes
In the mirth and
In the madness
There’s no sweeter place than in your dreams
No sweeter place
No sweeter place
Than at your side
And on your mind
No matter where
The road will lead me
There’s no sweeter place I’ll ever find
In our hopes and
In our dreaming
In the memories we retrace
In this world that
God’s redeeming
There’s no sweeter place than your embrace
No sweeter place
No sweeter place
Than at your side
And on your mind
No matter where
The road will lead me
There’s no sweeter place I’ll ever find

There is something deeply enlivening and holy about the spiritual discipline of play.  Sabbath-rich play is often where we become our most authentically human.  This song is about that very thing.  Thanks for playing along.

Play (Words and music by Eric Park)

Long ago when God rested on the 7^th day

It wasn’t time for sleeping or a holiday

Maybe it was a day to soak up the newborn sun

A playful recreation in the light of what he’d done

 

If we’re made in the image of this kind of God

This working, playing, moving, resting kind of God

Then deep within our soul we find a common way

A healthy rhythm making room for work and play

 

And don’t forget to play

It’s part of what’s inside us

Don’t forget to play

It limits what divides us

Don’t forget to play

There’s laughter right beside us

No better time for playing than today

Join the recreation, come and play

 

Stifling our playfulness is nothing new

It’s looked upon as slothful when there’s work to do

But even work is playful when it’s done with grace

A playful spirit softens up a hardened place

 

And don’t forget to play

It’s part of what reveals us

Don’t forget to play

Removing what conceals us

Don’t forget to play

It unifies and seals us

No better time for playing than today

Join the recreation; come and play

 

It’s what keeps my spirit light

Keeping things within me bright

It’s what brings me off the shelf

And helps me be my truest self

 

A soul deprived of playtime in time will long for more

It’s part of why we nurse the sick and feed the poor

Reaching to the broken souls that they might be

Brought closer to a playfulness that sets them free

 

And don’t forget to play

It’s part of what reveals us

Don’t forget to play

Removing what conceals us

Don’t forget to play

It unifies and seals us

No better time for playing than today

Join the recreation; come and play

 

And don’t forget to play

It’s part of what’s inside us

Don’t forget to play

It limits what divides us

Don’t forget to play

There’s laughter right beside us

No better time for playing than today

Join the recreation, come and play

 

Fifteen years ago, at the end of May, 2001, Anthony Rivetti, Tara’s father and my father-in-law, died after a hard journey with cancer. He was a man of deep integrity, fierce devotion, and winsome hospitality. I wish all of you could have known him.  Every day, Tony’s presence in the world is dearly missed.

A couple of months before Tony’s death, I sat at the piano, which is where I frequently go when I am confronted by things that I cannot easily accommodate in my spirit.  Strangely, as my fingers touched a variety of keys, I began to think about what I would say to cancer if cancer were personified–if I were able to converse with cancer the way I would a person.  At the time, it was a spontaneous means by which to give expression to my ever-deepening grief.  Those thoughts, combined with the notes I was playing, eventually became a song of lament.

On the fifteenth anniversary of Tony’s death, I share the song here, hoping to honor both his memory and his legacy, and hoping to remind myself–and perhaps others–that cancer and death, while bitter and painful, are never given the final word to speak.

Lament (What Do I Make of You?)–sung by Tara and Eric Park

Frailty interrupts a life with whispering voice

Unceremonious, waits not for one’s choice

All delusions of invincibility

Fade like flickering dreams not meant to be

 

You’ve been among us for a year and a half by now

You manifest your presence in the furrows of his brow

He so patiently ponders all you’ve done

While quietly wondering when you’ll end what you’ve begun

 

So what do I make of you?

I refuse to deify or dread or demonize your power

So what do I make of you?

 

The precision of your movement almost seems absurd

You function with a mind of your own, or so I’ve heard

Unresponsive to tears shed over you

Unrepentant, you do what you will do

 

This one whose body you’ve seen fit to occupy

This one whose courage you could only magnify

He so gracefully holds all the things he’s heard

While you are unimpressed and undeterred

 

So what do I make of you?

I refuse to deify or dread or demonize your power

So what do I make of you?

 

I’m convinced that neither death nor life will ever separate us

From the One whose Word is heard above the claims of random fate

I’m convinced that neither height nor depth nor demons anywhere

Will break the covenant that we in grace are privileged to share

 

His mortality makes its presence known

Unceremonious, chills one to the bone

He so faithfully prays all the prayers he knows

Glimpsing eternity as the cancer grows

 

So what do I make of you?

I refuse to deify or dread or demonize your power?

So what do I make of you?

I suppose that in the long run I’ll look past you

To the One who hides your meaning deep within the things of providence

 

Frailty interrupts a life with whispering voice

 

Here is a wonderful old hymn finding expression in a newer musical setting.

“Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing”

Words: Robert Robinson

Tune: John Wyeth (“Nettleton”)

Arrangement:  Rick Witkowski and Eric Park

Sung by Tara and Eric Park

It is something that I normally have to say to myself ten or twelve times a day:  “Get over yourself!”  I try to allow it to become my prayer of surrender, my ongoing struggle to recognize that I am not the main character in the story.  What follows is something that helps me to sing my prayer.

Get Over Yourself (words and music by Eric Park)

A story’s being told that’s very old

It’s a story that we hear from birth

Fulfilling all our needs (so the story reads)

Is the essence of a walk on earth

But when the story’s all we’re fed a distortion’s bred

Idolatry of human greed

An inflated sense of “me” makes it hard to see

Things I want become the things I need

Chorus: Get over yourself

It’s not about you anyway

Why don’t you look past yourself

To see the panorama in which your life appears

In the climate of our day it’s often been our way

To define ourselves by our desires

Relentless appetite, everything’s alright

If it feeds the inner fires

But the life for which we’re made is of a different shade

It brings us to this point of view

We’re just as much defined by what we leave behind

Sacrifice is nothing new

Chorus

Before which God will I lay prostrate

At which altar will I kneel

Will I dare to be transformed

Or simply trust the way I feel

Will I recognize the claim on me

Or cater to my whims

Will my song be self-indulgence

Or will I sing the sacred hymns

There’s another story told that’s very old

About a Rock that’s now a Cornerstone

He calls us to depart with a servant’s heart

Into a life in which we’re not our own

So which story will you hold when your days grow old

By which narrative will you be claimed

The story that we live is what we have to give

It’s the legacy by which we’re named

Chorus

This is a song that comes from my conviction that the precious gift of faith is often something far grander than I allow it to be.  Interestingly, the words and metaphors of the song have been very much on my mind and heart as that portion of the body of Christ called the United Methodist Church prepares for its General Conference in Portland, Oregon (May 10-20).

Window (words and music by Eric Park)

Faith can be nothing but a means to an end
A ticket to heaven, a creed to defend
Faith can be curtains behind which we hide
A withering tree with no forest beside

Faith can be shallow when depth is required
A bed to crawl into when souls become tired
Faith can be awkward, an out-of-tune hum
A lifeless equation that leads to no sum

But when faith is a window instead of a wall
A lens to look through, not a speech to recall
If faith is the forest instead of the tree
Then nothing’s outside what the faithful can see

Faith can be cloistered, an in-house debate
An object to study, a reason to hate
Faith can be closets with things put away
A good bit of talking with nothing to say

But when faith is a lifetime instead of a day
A constant rebirth, not a token to pay
If faith is the worldview beyond the decree
Then nothing’s outside what the faithful can see

Faith is assurance of things we hope for
Faith is conviction of things we can’t see
Faith is the journey our ancestors died for
Faith is the pathway to wisdom

Faith can be nothing but a weapon to wield
A rope that is fraying, a very thin shield
Faith can be strident when love is desired
A license for judgment that’s long since expired

But when faith is a window instead of a wall
A lens to look through, not a speech to recall
If faith is the forest instead of the tree
Then nothing’s outside what the faithful can see

And when faith is a lifetime instead of a day
A constant rebirth, not a token to pay
If faith is the worldview beyond the decree
Then nothing’s outside what the faithful can see