Echoes and Moments

The Winter Solstice has passed, and light slowly returns to the world. As the heavens point us to the distant hope of the renewal of life through the changing season, so we await the coming of our Lord in flesh among us. He comes quietly, in poverty, obscurity, and the fragile vulnerability of naked childhood. Tonight, I'll share a prayer for this time from one of my favorite authors . For all voices yearning for salvation, all hearts eager for the revival of the Spirit, we rest our hope on the Promise of Israel's pilgrim nation from long ago: O Wisdom, O holy Word of God, you govern all creation with your strong yet tender care: Come. O Sacred Lord of ancient Israel, you showed yourself to Moses in the burning bush and you gave the holy law on Mount Sinai: Come. O Flower of Jesse’s stem, you have been raised up as a sign for all people; kings stand silent in your presence; the nations bow down in worship before you: Come. O Key of David, O royal Pow

For the past years my weapon of choice on a Sunday morning has been the electric guitar. Hold onto what you're thinking; my favorite songs to play at church aren't guitar-solo filled, effects laden rockers. No, I love the music at my church because we choose to incorporate many contemporary black Gospel songs into our normal weekly mix. Today many of these songs have crossed over into the "mainstream" of Sunday worship sets, mostly thanks to the popularity of dynamic leaders like Israel Houghton, Kirk Franklin, and Fred Hammond. It seems funny how electric guitarists seem to carry the stereotype of vain, overly cerebral, or pedantic musicians, especially when applied to church worship situations. I confess I've had my moments in any and all of those categories. Lately, my antidote to any guitar ego is worshipping alongside a choir, when all instrumentation serves to support the soaring harmonies, and never the other way around. Rhythm is emphasized over melody f