Log in

No account? Create an account
The last pilgrammage [entries|friends|calendar]

[ website | An Order of Service for a Funeral ]
[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

[24 Mar 2006|09:28am]

Sarx, nepes, & kardio.

Body, soul, & heart :

The great triune nature of man.
post comment

[26 Feb 2006|10:02pm]

I found the most perfect hymn, Dear Lorde, the maker of al thing,

O Lorde, the maker of al thing, we pray thee, nowe in this evening us to defende through thy mercy from al deceite of our enemy. Let neither us deluded be, good Lord, by dreame or phantasy, oure hearte wakyng in thee thou kepe, that we in sinne fal not on slepe. O Father, throughe thy blessed Sonne, grant us this oure peticion, to whom with the Holy Ghost alwaies, in heaven and yearth be laude and praise.

Now that world add a perfect touch of gothic darkness needed. Very dark, very dark.
post comment

[06 Nov 2005|11:56am]

Glory be to Jesus, translated by Edward Caswell

Glory be to Jesus,
Who in bitter pains
Poured for me the life-blood
From His sacred veins!

Grace and life eternal
In that blood I find;
Blest be His compassion,
Infinitely kind!

Blest through endless ages
Be the precious stream
Which from endless torments
Did the world redeem!

Abel's blood for vengeance
Pleaded to the skies;
But the blood of Jesus
For our pardon cries.

Oft as earth exulting
Wafts its praise on high,
Angel hosts rejoicing
Make their glad reply.

Lift we, then, our voices,
Swell the mighty flood,
Louder still and louder
Praise the precious blood!
post comment

Funeral hymns [22 Oct 2005|11:05am]

Hymns thus far to be considered for my funeral:

Stainer - Fling Wide the Gates
Mozart - Requiem - Lacrymosa
Croft - Funeral Sentences
Baring-Gould, Onward Christian Soliders
Lyte - Praise my Soul
St. Denio - Immortal Invisible
Williams - Guide me, thou great Redeemer
Baker - The King of Love my Shepherd is
post comment

another hymn [20 Oct 2005|08:41pm]

Stainer - Fling Wide the Gates
post comment

[13 Oct 2005|07:20pm]


L'ho perduta, me meschina!
Ah chi sa dove sara?
Non la trovo. L'ho perduta!
Meschinella! ecc.
E mia cugina? E il pardon,
cosa dira?

I have lost it, unhappy me!
Ah, who knows where it is?
I cannot find it, I have lost it.
unhappy me, etc.
And my cousin, and my lord -
What will he say?
post comment

It finally struck me [22 Aug 2005|10:50pm]

I was proemanding along a street in Wollongong, looking up through the bare branches of a tree at the soft blue sky. The feel of the windy rippled over my skin like silk. I could feel the sandstone buildings step away from me. But then the buildings jumped out at me, and wished to eat me with their rude cement teeth that clotted and polluted the sky and soil.

I want to vanish from the world I find so disgusting. I mean, sure there are things in this world I find so amazingly beautiful. My nana, my Brendan, my friends, nature, history, tradition -- but, atm, they are nothing as compared to my God, my King. There are so many things at the moment that are just going wrong, and I don't wish to talk about them.

And it is thus that, in this moment, why I wish to die and safely rest in the belief of the eternity of my soul. To no longer feel the pain I feel, rather the warm, sweet embrace of Jesus Christ.
post comment

Dust to Dust, the Mortal Dies [21 Aug 2005|01:01pm]

Dust to dust, the mortal dies,
Both the foolish and the wise;
None forever can remain,
Each must leave his hoarded gain.
Yet within their heart they say
That their houses are for aye,
That their dwelling places grand
Shall for generations stand.

To their lands they give their name
In the hope of lasting fame,
But man’s honour quickly flies,
Like the lowly beast he dies.
Though such folly mark their way,
Men approve of what they say;
Death their shepherd, they the sheep,
He within his fold will keep.

O’er them soon shall rule the just,
All their beauty turn to dust;
God my waiting soul shall save,
He will raise me from the grave.
Let no fear disturb your peace
Though one’s house and wealth increase;
Death shall end his fleeting day,
He shall carry naught away.

Though in life he wealth attained,
Though the praise of men he gained,
He shall join those gone before,
Where the light shall shine no more.
Crowned with honour though he be,
Highly gifted, strong and free,
If he be not truly wise,
Man is like the beast that dies.
post comment

Rock of Ages [19 Aug 2005|02:02pm]

Just quickly, I really love Mozart's Requiem. I think I wouldn't mind the Lacrymosa at my funeral, as the only Latin hymn.

Lacrimosa dies ilia
Qua resurget ex favilla
Judicandus homo reus.
Huic ergo parce, Deus,
Pie Jesu Domine,
Dona eis requiem.

I found yet another possible hymn for my funeral. Hearing it sung is quite moving, for the hymn is slow moving.

The hymn says everything I could ever wish for a funeral hymn of mine to say. The first stanza speaks of a passionate love of Christ, a very personal love. The second speaks of the cure that Christ brings - ending solidarity, humility, and hurt (though they be Christian virtues, Christ ends them with his all-consuming blazing love.) The third speaks of the desperare Christian situation - that people are nothing without Christ. Yet it is the final stanza that gives this hymn the power it needs - it speaks of the Christian death, and it is for this that I would love this hymn for my funeral in years to come.

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure;
Cleanse me from its guilt and power.

Not the labour of my hands
Can fulfill Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears for ever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.

Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to the cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless, look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly;
Wash me, Saviour, or I die.

While I draw this fleeting breath,
When mine eyes are closed in death,
When I soar through tracts unknown,
See Thee on Thy judgment throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.
post comment

Hymns thus far [25 Jul 2005|10:26am]

Below are some of my favourite hymns:

I am the Resurrection, William Croft.
Immortal Invisible, trad. St. Denio.
Praise my Soul, Henry Lyte.
Onward, Christian Soldiers, Sabine Baring-Gould.
Guide me, O thou great Redeemer, William Williams.
The Appeal of the Crucified, Sir John Stainer.
The king of love my shepherd is, HW Baker
post comment

Oh why will ye die? [25 Jul 2005|10:21am]

I should like to get to know more about what athiests and agnostics see the point of death as being, and where, if anywhere at all, their soul, if they believe they have one, would go after mortal life?

I understand the point of death as being the beginning of the last pilgrimmage - the final and ultimate journey towards a loving God. In life I sin, and I continually do so, I admit. Sometimes I consciously sin also. Yet in the end I hate this burden, the burdensome lock to sin. I hate it that I am bound unto that which I hate. That is what I look forward to in death, that never more shall I be bound to sin against my consciousness and God. To spend life in eternity's bliss is something that warms my heart at the thought of it. To be joined again with those that I love that, due to circumstances, separated from me and a beating heart, and joined the Almighty above.

All for Jesus! All for Jesus!
This our song shall ever be,
For we have no hope, nor Saviour,
If we have not hope in Thee!

All for Jesus Thou wilt give us
Strength to serve Thee, hour by hour;
None can move us from Thy presence,
While we trust Thy love and power.

All for Jesus! Thou hast loved us;
All for Jesus! Thou hast died;
All for Jesus! Thou art with us;
All for Jesus Crucified.

All for Jesus! All for Jesus!
This the Church's song must be
till, at last, her sons are gathered
one in love and one in Thee!

post comment

Sir John Stainer, The Crucifixion [24 Jul 2005|02:08pm]

The following piece is from Sir John Stainer's The Crucifixion, one of the most popular English choral works, which vividly portrays the events of the Almighty Passion.


From the Throne of His Cross, the King of grief
Cries out to a world of unbelief:
Oh men and women, afar and nigh,
Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by?

I laid My eternal power aside, I came from the Home of the Glorified,
A babe in the lowly came to lie.

Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by?

I wept for the sorrows and pains of men,
I healed them and helped them and loved them,
But then, they shouted against Me,

Is it nothing to you?

Behold Me and see: pierced thro’ and thro’ with countless sorrows,
and all is for you;
For you I suffer, for you I die.

Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by?

Oh men and women your deeds of shame,
Your sins without reason and number and name,
I bear them all on the Cross on high,
Is it nothing to you?

Is it nothing to you that I bow My Head?
And nothing to you that My Blood is shed?
Oh! Perishing souls to you I cry,
Is it nothing to you?

O come unto Me, by the woes I have borne,
By the dreadful scourge, and the crown of thorns,
By these I implore you to hear My cry,
Is it nothing to you?

O come unto Me, this awful price,
Redemption’s tremendous sacrifice,
Is paid for you.
Oh! Why will ye die?

O come unto Me!
For why will ye die?
Come to Me.
post comment

My final bed [23 Jul 2005|09:00pm]

Upon my grave, in many years to come, I would like erected a statue. That statue would be an Angel standing with fortitude and dignity. His legs shall have many muscles, his arms shall be long. His right hand shall raise to point to God's abode, and the other hand shall coil and nestle itself upon the heart, with a meek dove sitting atop the palm. The stern but faithful face of that dear Angel, my bodyguard, shall see through clouds and storms, right up through the heavens, to the humble but almighty throne of God Himself. The Angel's wings would be half spread, as if he were just about to take flight.

I have not yet thought of any lines to be etched on the stone, but, no doubt, they would be of verse, and verse alone. The years - which would be, clearly, beneath the verse - in Roman numerals to mark my birth and death. Below that would certainly be a line from either the King James or Book of Common Prayer.

Yes, that seems fair for a grave to mark my final bed.
post comment

Funeral Sentences/I am the Resurrection [23 Jul 2005|05:33pm]

I AM the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.
St John 11: 25, 26

I KNOW that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: and though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God; whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another.
Job 19: 25-27

WE brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we shall carry nothing out. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.
I Timothy 6: 7; Job 1: 21

THOU knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts; shut not thy merciful ears unto our prayer; but spare us, Lord most holy, O God most mighty, O holy and most merciful Saviour, thou most worthy Judge eternal. Suffer us not, at our last hour, for any pains of death, to fall from thee. Amen.
Book of Common Prayer

I HEARD a voice from heaven, saying unto me, “Write, From henceforth blessed are the dead which die in the Lord: even so saith the Spirit; for they rest from their labours.”
Revelation 14: 13
post comment

[ viewing | most recent entries ]