Archive for Celtic

Canticle of the Turning

Christ Enthroned Book of Kells Trinity College Dublin

Christ Enthroned
Book of Kells
Trinity College, Dublin

 

I was feeling flat and tired one day when a Goshen college choir came on the radio to sing a rousing version of this hymn. The crowd roared their approval, and I too was energized. Turned around, if you will. The lyrics seem to me a curious mix of fury and tenderness, but not unlike the world itself. Perhaps that’s why people vary the tempo so much when they sing it. Meanwhile, I did find the creator’s blog and I’ll quote his thoughts below.

The idea of “turning” in the title was both a nod to the inner conceit of “revolution,” (derived from the Latin “volvere,” which means “to turn”) and to the message of Jesus’s preaching in all three of the synoptic gospels, the core message of which was, “Repent, and believe the good news.” “Repent” translates a Greek verb the noun form of which is metanoia, that is to say, a complete change of the self, of mind and heart, which might also be rendered as “turn around.”   — Rory Cooney

 

Canticle of the Turning
Author: Rory Cooney
Tune: STAR OF THE COUNTY DOWN

1. My soul cries out with a joyful shout
that the God of my heart is great,
And my spirit sings of the wondrous things
that you bring to the ones who wait.
You fixed your sight on your servant’s plight,
and my weakness you did not spurn,
So from east to west shall my name be blest.
Could the world be about to turn?

Refrain
My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near,
and the world is about to turn!

 

2. Though I am small, my God, my all,
you work great things in me,
And your mercy will last from the depths of the past
to the end of the age to be.
Your very name puts the proud to shame,
and to those who would for you yearn,
You will show your might, put the strong to flight,
for the world is about to turn.

3. From the halls of power to the fortress tower,
not a stone will be left on stone.
Let the king beware for your justice tears
ev’ry tyrant from his throne.
The hungry poor shall weep no more,
for the food they can never earn;
There are tables spread, ev’ry mouth be fed,
for the world is about to turn.

4. Though the nations rage from age to age,
we remember who holds us fast:
God’s mercy must deliver us
from the conqueror’s crushing grasp.
This saving word that our forebears heard
is the promise which holds us bound,
‘Til the spear and rod can be crushed by God,
who is turning the world around.

As the mist scatters

Thanks to Thee, O God, that I have risen to-day
To the rising of this life itself;
May it be to Thine own glory,
O God of every gift,
And to the glory of my soul likewise.

O Great God, aid Thou my soul with the aiding of Thine own mercy,
Even as I clothe my body with wool,
Cover Thou my soul with the shadow of Thy wing.
Help me to avoid every sin,
and the source of every sin to forsake;
And as the mist scatters on the crest of the hills,
may each ill haze clear from my soul, O God.

 

From Celtic Prayers.  Selected by Avery Brooke from the collection of Alexander Carmichael,with calligraphy by Laurel CasazzaSeabury Press, 1981

Sleeping Prayer

I am placing my soul and my body
On Thy sanctuary this night, O God,
On Thy sanctuary, O Jesus Christ,
On Thy sanctuary, O Spirit of perfect truth,
The Three who would defend my cause,
Nor turn their backs upon me.

Thou, Father, who art kind and just,
Thou, Son, who didst overcome death,
Thou, Holy Spirit of power,
Be keeping me this night from harm;
The Three who would justify me
Keeping me this night and always.

 

Thanks to Journey with Jesus

Originally from the Carmina Gadelica I, 73

Taken from Esther de Waal, editor, The Celtic Vision (Liguori, MO: Liguori/Triumph, 1988, 2001), p. 52

A blessing for your journey

God be with thee in every pass,
Jesus be with thee on every hill,
Spirit be with thee on every stream,
Headland and ridge and lawn;

Each sea and land, each moor and meadow,
Each lying down, each rising up,
In the trough of the waves, on the crest of the billows,
Each step of the journey thou goest.

– Carmina Gadelica, III