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Once transfiguration blinded – a hymn

Some of you will remember the hymn, ‘Stay, Master, stay upon this heavenly hill’.
As the disciples want to continue in the purer air of the mountaintop, to stay eternally, Jesus
rebukes them:


No, saith the Lord, the hour is past, we go;
Our home, our life, our duties lie below.
While here we kneel upon the mount of prayer,
The plough lies waiting in the furrow there.


And the disciples respond:


There we must do it, serve him, seek him still.
The following hymn continues this theme of being lost in such wonder that we forget the needs that
we are called to meet:

Once transfiguration blinded 

1 Once transfiguration blinded 
those who climbed to follow Christ, 
seeing through a mist of glory, 
just a glimpse at once sufficed; 
just a glimpse of holy heaven, 
earth and heaven neatly spliced. 

2 Light can blind us to the sorrow, 
to the pain of poverty, 
light of holy exaltation, 
or the light of being free:
free of fear of want or hunger 
resting in complicity.

3 Lost in thunder, bathed in wonder, 
hands uplifted should we praise, 
while, in destitution, neighbours, 
wait for weeks, not merely days,
for the crumbs dropped from a table
that austerity displays.

Andrew E Pratt (born 1948)
Words © 2018 Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England copyright@stainer.co.uk . Please include any 
reproduction for local church use on your CCL Licence returns. All wider and any commercial use 
requires prior application to Stainer & Bell Ltd.
Metre: 8 7 8 7 8 7
Tune: WESTMINSTER ABBEY (Purcell)

A hymn in a shattering, divided world…perhaps?

Reflecting on the world in which we live, what can we, should we sing?

Hymns should at least allow for the expression of everything to which the Psalms give voice. And I am including those words over which we tend to be rather squeamish. This interpretation of Psalm 137 was attributed to John Donne but was probably written by Francis Davison (circa 1633-69):

        Happy, who, thy tender barnes

		From the armes

	Of their wailing mothers tearing,

	'Gainst the walls shall dash their bones,

		Ruthless stones

	With their braines and blood besmearing. 
[Donne, J., The Poems of John Donne, Edit. H.J.C. Grierson, Oxford 1912, p426].

And why should I want to sing this or anything even distantly emotionally related to it? Because sometimes that is how I feel and the Psalms testify to the fact that God can cope with us feeling like that.

Not finding such a hymn in my own denomination’s hymn book at the turn of the millennium, and reflecting on the plight of refugees, I wrote these words. And are they, perhaps, redolent of those of opposing opinions, experiencing hatred and fear, in our world, in our countries today?

1	When anger is our highest creed,

	revenge the motivating force;

	God, understand our depth of hurt,

	our need for action, not just thought.



2	Ejected from what makes us safe,

	familiar ground and well-known names,

	we sicken for the things we've seen,

	all sense of hope and courage drains.



3	We cannot celebrate our faith,

	and faith lacks meaning, all is lost;

	for nothing is as it once was,

	we cannot ever bear the cost.



4	So, God, what should we do or say?

	What is there left of love or life?

	What mitigating cause or plea

	will rid us of this pain of strife?



5	Amid our sense of grief and loss

	where nothing now can be the same,

	stand in the midst of shattered faith;

	rebuild, renew, and raise again.



Andrew E Pratt (born 1948)

Words © 2001 Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England copyright@stainer.co.uk . Please include any reproduction for local church use on your CCL Licence returns. All wider and any commercial use requires prior application to Stainer & Bell Ltd.

Metre: LM

Tunes: PLAISTOW; KEDRON(Dare)