A Shepherd's Story

My feet hit the floor today on one of my Grandpa’s rag rugs that lies on the floor by my bed. I shaved with his double edge safety razor. When I got dressed, I put his slip-joint pocket knife into my pocket. It was twenty-four years ago today that my grandfather fell asleep in Jesus to await the resurrection of all flesh. It means a great deal to me that I can hold a tool in my hands that once served him and still functions just as well as it did in his hands.

But I am convinced that the most durable, well-crafted tools that have been passed through our generations are the hymns we have sung. I thought of him when we sang in church today:

Yea, Lord, ’twas thy rich bounty gave
my body, soul, and all I have
in this poor life of labor.
Lord, grant that I in ev’ry place
may glorify thy lavish grace
and help and serve my neighbor.
Let no false doctrine me beguile;
let Satan not my soul defile.
Give strength and patience unto me
to bear my cross and follow thee.
Lord Jesus Christ, my God and Lord, my God and Lord,
in death thy comfort still afford.

Lord, let at last thine angels come,
to Abr’ham’s bosom bear me home
that I may die unfearing;
and in its narrow chamber keep
my body safe in peaceful sleep
until thy reappearing.
And then from death awaken me
that these mine eyes with joy may see,
O Son of God, thy glorious face,
my Savior and my fount of grace.
Lord Jesus Christ, my prayer attend, my prayer attend,
and I will praise thee without end.

Watch with your mind, brethren, that the mysteries of this season may not pass away without profit. The blessing is plentiful. Provide clean receptacles; display devout souls, watchful senses, sober emotions, and chaste consciences for such great gifts of grace. In good truth, not only does your confession of faith admonish you to take care in this matter, but it is the practice of the universal Church, whose sons you are. For all Christians cultivate holiness in observance of these sacred seven days, display modesty, pursue humility, put on gravity, either according to or beyond what is usual, that they may in some way seem to suffer with Christ’s suffering. For who is so impious as not to be sorrowful? Who so proud, as not to be humbled? Who so angry, as not to forgive? Who so luxurious, as not to abstain? Who so sensual, as not to practice self-restraint? Who so wicked, as not to repent during these days? And rightly so.

For the passion of the Lord is at hand, even now moving the earth, rending the rocks, and opening the tombs. Near also is His resurrection, in which you will celebrate a festival to the Most High, entering with enthusiasm and eagerness into the most glorious deeds which He has accomplished. Nothing better could be done in the world than that which was done by the Lord on these days. Nothing more useful or better could be recommended to the world, than that it should by perpetual ordinance celebrate year by year the memorial of these things with longing souls, and show forth the memory of His abundant sweetness…

Marvelous is Your passion, O Lord Jesus, which repelled the passions of all of us; made propitiation for our iniquities, and is found effectual for every one of our plagues. For what is there of death that is not destroyed by Your death?

–Bernard of Clairvaux, Sermon 24