Roundup: Faith Ringgold prison mural, “Revaluing Women Hymn Writers,” and more

In honor of Women’s History Month, here are a few creative works by and/or (in the case of Kinloch’s “Some Women” poems) about women.

ARTICLE: “A New Documentary Traces How a Faith Ringgold Mural at Rikers Island Helped Women Break Free,” Colossal: Directed by Catherine Gund, the documentary Paint Me a Road Out of Here (2025) tells the story of Faith Ringgold’s For the Women’s House (1971), a mural commissioned by the New York State Council on the Arts for the Correctional Institution for Women on Rikers Island. When Ringgold asked the incarcerated women what they wanted her to paint, they said, “I want to see a road leading out of here.”

Ringgold, Faith_For the Women's House
Faith Ringgold (American, 1930–2024), For the Women’s House, 1971. Oil on canvas, 96 × 96 in. Commissioned by the New York State Council on the Arts for the Correctional Institution for Women on Rikers Island; on loan to Brooklyn Museum.

Organized into eight triangular sections, the painting portrays women of various races (Black, white, Latina, Asian) in professional roles “that have not traditionally been theirs,” Ringgold says: doctor, bus driver, US president, basketball player, police officer, construction worker, drummer, priest. At the bottom, a white mother reads to her multiracial daughter words by Rosa Parks and Coretta Scott King, and in another scene, a bride is given away by her mother.

When Rikers Island transitioned to housing men in 1988, the women were moved to the Rose M. Singer Center, and the prison staff painted over Ringgold’s mural. Gund’s documentary chronicles the fight—by Ringgold and other artists, activists, politicians, and correctional officers—to have the mural restored, relocated, and preserved, but more deeply, the film is a “parable for a world without mass incarceration.”

Paint Me a Road Out of Here is not currently available on VOD, but here’s a list of public screenings: https://paintmearoadfilm.com/watch.

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LECTURE: “Re-Valuing Women Hymn Writers” by Dr. Lyn Loewi, St. John’s Church, Lafayette Square, Washington, DC, June 11, 2023: “Women have always been making sacred music, but they are underrepresented in our hymnals. Their contribution lies in the stories they tell from the margins, away from the narratives of dominant power. In this talk, Lyn Loewi will look at the poetry women have brought to our understanding of the Sacred. From the 9th-century Greek Orthodox nun Kassia to newly written hymns, women have expanded our language for God, remembered the stories of biblical women, and spoken for other discounted voices in society.”

Loewi, who has a doctorate in musical arts, has been an organist and church choir director for over forty years. She is currently the director of music ministries at Christ Church Capitol Hill, as well as the president of the Women’s Sacred Music Project. In this talk she discusses:

  1. The Hymn of Kassiani
  2. “The first one ever, oh, ever to know” by Linda Wilberger Egan
  3. “Healing River of the Spirit” by Ruth Duck (text)
  4. “Down by the Riverside” by Sister Rosetta Tharpe (arrangement)
  5. “Balulalow” by Elizabeth Poston (music)
  6. “Beyond the hopes and dreams of all creation” by Fr. Robert Easton (text) and Ghislaine Reece-Trapp (music)

The last few minutes of the recording, starting at 38:33, comprise audience Q&A; don’t miss the last question (41:29), where a woman expresses exasperation with all the “he/him” pronouns used for God in hymns—Loewi’s response is helpful.

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HYMNS:

When I was responsible for choosing songs for my church’s worship services, I made sure that every week I was on, at least one of the five songs we sang was written by a woman. Here are just three female-authored hymns that were part of my rotation—one (likely) from the tenth century, one from the eighteenth century, and one from the twenty-first century.

>> “Bí Thusa Mo Shúile” (Be Thou My Vision), Anon., trans. Mary Elizabeth Byrne, vers. Eleanor Hull: I can’t believe I’ve never featured this hymn on the blog before; it’s one of my all-time favorites. Its precise origins are not known. Most scholars date the original Early Middle Irish text, a lorica (prayer recited for protection), to the late tenth or eleventh century. It was translated into English in 1905 by Mary Elizabeth Byrne and then versified in 1912 by Eleanor Hull—meaning she adapted Byrne’s translation to fit a meter so that the words could be more easily sung. The music is a traditional Irish folk tune.

In this video, the hymn is sung in modern Irish by Madelyn Monaghan, a New York City–based soprano specializing in Irish traditional (Sean-nós) singing. It was for her friend’s wedding Mass. And wow, is her voice gorgeous!

>> “Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul” by Anne Steele (text) and Kevin Twit (music): Anne Steele was a Baptist hymn writer, poet, and essayist from Georgian England who published under the pen name Theodosia. Coming from a well-off family, she was educated and chose to remain single (she rejected several marriage proposals) so that she could focus on her writing, which she considered a calling. Rev. Kevin Twit, a Reformed University Fellowship pastor in Nashville and the founder of Indelible Grace, says Steele was the first significant female Christian hymn writer and the first, of either sex, to write lament hymns; over half her oeuvre, he says, deals with suffering and doubt.

Twit has set several of Steele’s hymns to music, most famously “Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul,” which Steele wrote in 1760. The solo performance above is from the January 24, 2021, worship service at Second Presbyterian Church in Memphis, Tennessee. The names of the singer and accompanist are not given. You can also listen to the song on Indelible Grace’s 2008 album.

>> “We Will Feast in the House of Zion” by Sandra McCracken and Joshua Moore: Sandra McCracken is one of today’s leading Christian singer-songwriters, and this hymn, which she wrote with Josh Moore, is the most popular of her congregational songs. From her 2015 album Psalms, it paints a vision of the eschaton, of the new heavens and the new earth, marked by restoration, shalom, and celebration. One thing I noticed as a church music leader is how many hymns and other worship songs use first-person singular pronouns (I/me/my) and emphasize one’s personal relationship with God; those are fine and even necessary, as the book of Psalms models, but I always made sure, when making a song list, to balance them with songs that use first-personal plural (us/we/our) and that convey a more communal picture of the Christian life and of the gospel, which is at least but also much more than what Jesus did for me. This is perhaps my favorite hymn about heaven, a place of safety and rest, yes, but also where all of creation is redeemed, made new; where everyone and everything flourishes in harmony under the benevolent reign of Christ.

“We Will Feast” works well during Communion (a ritual that anticipates the marriage supper of the Lamb) or as a closer, as it sends worshippers out with a benediction, a good word—a promise of the restorative beauty to come.

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VIDEO: “Poetry Unbound: A Conversation with David Kinloch and Pádraig Ó Tuama,” Washington National Cathedral, April 26, 2021: The On Being Project in partnership with Washington National Cathedral presents Pádraig Ó Tuama in conversation with the Scottish poet David Kinloch, part of a series of interviews with contemporary poets whose work demonstrates an artistic and literary engagement with biblical narratives and characters. They primarily discuss Kinloch’s extensive “Some Women” sequence of poems from his collection In Search of Dustie-Fute (Carcanet, 2017), voiced by women of the Bible (or, in the case of the first, Jewish folklore): Lilith, Cain’s wife, Adah and Zillah, Sarah, Lot’s wife, Rebekah, Zipporah, Deborah, Rahab, the Levite’s concubine, Ruth, Bathsheba, the daughters of Job, King David’s concubines, Hannah, Martha, the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, and the Jewish women followers of Jesus responding to the apostle Paul’s teachings.

(The conversation starts at 7:55.)

Kinloch reads three poems from “Some Women”: “First Letter of the Hebrew Women to St Paul” (15:36), “Ruth” (23:49), and “Cain’s Wife” (29:58). He also reads two additional poems from the same volume, from the sequence “Joseph’s Dreams”: “St Joseph’s Dream” (40:44) and “Another Dream” (1:08:53).

This conversation impelled to check out In Search of Dustie-Fute from the library. I like the “Some Women” sequence overall—Kinloch’s creative engagement with the stories of these women, some very little known (e.g., I had to look up “Adah” and “Zillah”!) or little thought about (like the unnamed victims of sexual abuse)—though I will warn you that it contains some profanity and crude sexual language. In the Q&A that starts at 49:09, one of the questions is about the role of shock and humor in his poetry. (He says if his poems offend, they fail.) Other questions are about the biblical literacy that he does or does not presuppose, his editing process, a character from the Bible that he wants to write about but hasn’t yet, and why he, a man, feels justified in writing from the perspective of women.

Kinloch is an agnostic, so his relationship with biblical texts is different from that of one who is devout. But the Bible is not the exclusive domain of believers; Kinloch can just as well help us inhabit these stories and can derive questions or insights from them. I really appreciated hearing from him. Here’s what he had to say on the vernacular of everyday human experience:

It seems to me that there’s such distance—in terms of time, in terms of culture—between us in the twenty-first century and the people of those [ancient Near Eastern] communities. You need to find common ground so that some kind of dialogue can open up, so that you can shrink that distance. And therefore, the emphasis in all of these poems, really, is on the humanity of the people. I’m not writing sermons, I’m not writing homilies; I’m writing little dramatic monologues, mostly, and trying to make these people as believable, as real, as possible in the present moment of reading about them. My hope, I suppose, is that if people have enjoyed the poems, then maybe they might go back to those stories in the Bible. And it’s at that point that there will be an encounter with the divine, with the extraordinary. I don’t really feel that I have access to those moments of extraordinariness. All the extraordinariness is in the Bible, and I can only offer an avenue of approach to that.

“The Samaritan Woman” by Karol Wojtyla (Pope John Paul II) (poem)

Koder, Sieger_Woman at Jacob's Well
Sieger Köder (German, 1925–2015), Woman at Jacob’s Well, 1990. Sieger Köder Museum, Ellwangen, Germany.

It joined us together, the well;
the well led me into you.
No one between us but light
deep in the well, the pupil of the eye
set in an orbit of stones.

Within your eyes, I,
drawn by the well,
am enclosed.

Translated by Jerzy Peterkiewicz, from Collected Poems by Karol Wojtyla (Random House, 1982)


This contemplative poem was originally published in Polish in Kraków’s leading Catholic periodical, Tygodnik Powszechny (Universal Weekly), on May 7, 1950, when Karol Wojtyla was a twenty-nine-year-old parish priest. It’s the sixth in a sequence of eight poems collectively titled “Song of the Brightness of Water” (Pieśń o blasku wody), all reflecting on Jesus’s encounter with the Samaritan woman in John 4.


Karol Wojtyla (1920–2005) was a theologian, philosopher, poet, and priest best known for serving as head of the Catholic Church as Pope John Paul II from 1978 until his death. He traveled more than any other pope (visiting 129 countries), helped end Communism in Eastern Europe, fostered interfaith dialogue, and promoted human rights. He was canonized on April 27, 2014. Born, raised, and educated in Poland, in 1938–39 Karol studied Polish philology (literature and language) at Jagiellonian University, but his academic pursuits were interrupted by the Nazi occupation. He avoided conscription in the German military by working as a manual laborer in a quarry—which he did while secretly taking seminary courses in Kraków from 1942 to 1946 (Catholicism was suppressed at the time) and participating in the underground theater scene as both an actor and a playwright. After graduating, he was ordained to the priesthood.
     Throughout the first half of his adult life—as a student, young parish priest, bishop, archbishop, and cardinal—Karol wrote and published poetry anonymously and then pseudonymously under the names Andrzej Jawień and Stanisław Andrzej Gruda. After he became pope, many of these poems were compiled into a collection, translated into English with Vatican approval, and released in book form under his given name. Karol continued writing poetry during his pontificate, but at a much slower pace. His most famous writings are in prose and include the landmark encyclical Evangelium Vitae (The Gospel of Life) on human dignity, the international bestseller Crossing the Threshold of Hope, and a series of 129 addresses titled The Theology of the Body.

Jerzy Peterkiewicz (1916–2007) was a Polish poet, novelist, and translator. In 1940 he fled his home country, arriving in England as a war refugee with no knowledge of the language. He went on to become a literature professor at London University, and in 1960, with coeditor and cotranslator Burns Singer, he published the influential anthology Five Centuries of Polish Poetry, 1450–1950. He was later chosen by a papal commission to translate the poetry of Pope John Paul II (Karol Wojtyla).

“Your free hearts said them never nay”: Christ blesses the merciful in a medieval mystery play

The following excerpt is from the fourteenth-century biblical drama The Last Judgement from the York cycle of mystery plays [previously], performed annually in York, England, on the feast of Corpus Christi until its suppression by Protestants in 1569. Based on Matthew 25, this final play in the cycle was produced by the city’s guild of mercers (dealers in textile fabrics) and so is sometimes referred to as the Mercers’ Play.

I’ve chosen to feature it at this time because almsgiving—that is, assisting those in need, especially through the giving of money or goods—is one of the three pillars of Lent, and according to Matthew 25:31–46, it’s the measure by which Christ eternally blesses or damns people. It’s what separates the sheep from the goats, those who truly know Christ from those who don’t. The list of six charitable deeds in this Gospel passage—feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, caring for the sick, visiting the imprisoned—are called, in church tradition, the corporal works of mercy. A seventh, burying the dead, was added based on the book of Tobit 1:17–19.

(Related posts: “The Seven Works of Mercy: How two Dutch artworks—one Renaissance, one contemporary—can help us recover an ethic of neighborly care”; “On the Swag” by R. A. K. Mason)

Works of Mercy (York stained glass)
Corporal Acts of Mercy, 1410. Stained glass window, All Saints Church, North Street, York, England. Photo: Julian P. Guffogg.

I’ve sourced the Middle English text below from the Oxford World Classics volume York Mystery Plays: A Selection in Modern Spelling, edited by Richard Beadle and Pamela M. King. The glosses are Beadle and King’s.

JESUS: My blessed children on my right hand,
Your doom this day ye thar not dread,   [thar = need]
For all your comfort is comand—   [command = coming]
Your life in liking shall ye lead.
Come to the kingdom ay-lastand   [ay-lastand = eternal]
That you is dight for your good deed;   [you is dight = is prepared for you]
Full blithe may ye be where ye stand,
For mickle in heaven shall be your meed.   [mickle = great; meed = reward]

When I was hungry, ye me fed;
To slake my thirst your heart was free;   [free = willing]
When I was clotheless, ye me clad,
Ye would no sorrow upon me see.
In hard press when I was stead,   [When I was placed in difficult circumstances]
Of my pains ye had pity;
Full sick when I was brought in bed,   [in = to]
Kindly ye came to comfort me.

When I was will and weariest   [will = distraught]
Ye harbored me full heartfully;
Full glad then were ye of your guest,
And plained my poverty piteously.   [plained = lamented]
Belive ye brought me of the best   [belive = quickly]
And made my bed full easily,   [easily = comfortably]
Therefore in heaven shall be your rest,
In joy and bliss to be me by.

1 GOOD SOUL: When had we, Lord that all has wrought,
Meat and drink thee with to feed,
Since we in earth had never nought
But through the grace of thy Godhead?

2 GOOD SOUL: When was’t that we thee clothes brought,
Or visited thee in any need,
Or in thy sickness we thee sought?
Lord, when did we thee this deed?

JESUS: My blessed children, I shall you say
What time this deed was to me done:
When any that need had, night or day,
Asked you help and had it soon.
Your free hearts said them never nay,
Early ne late, midday ne noon,
But as oft-sithes as they would pray,   [pray = ask]
Them thurt but bid, and have their boon.   [They only needed to ask, and their request was granted]

For a modern performance of The Last Judgement by Handmade Performance in Toronto, see here. (The above passage is at 16:43ff.) They use a modern translation by Chester N. Scoville and Kimberley M. Yates.

Roundup: Sister Wendy on the art of Holy Week, Fernando Botero’s “Via Crucis,” and more

BOOK: The Art of Holy Week and Easter: Meditations on the Passion and Resurrection of Jesus by Sister Wendy Beckett (2021): Sister Wendy Beckett, a British Catholic nun and art enthusiast who died in 2018, is the one who first got me interested in art history. We watched clips from her BBC series Sister Wendy’s Story of Painting in my studio art class in high school, and I was so drawn to the way she looked at art and talked about it. Enthusiastic, warm, inquisitive, spiritually sensitive and theologically astute, and interested not just in the technical qualities of a work but also in its content—though I know I lack the same flair, my own voice and approach when it comes to art are indebted to hers.

So I was delighted to see that SPCK (and IVP in North America) has published two church calendar–based art devotionals by Sister Wendy: one for Lent, and one for Holy Week and Easter. I was disappointed with The Art of Lent: It has an admirable diversity of art selections, but Sister Wendy’s reflections are short and basic, and most don’t shine in the way I’ve come to expect from her; there were only two standouts for me. I also found it thematically confusing (for example, a section on “Confidence”?), unfocused, and redundant (especially in the “Silence” and “Contemplation” sections). I will grant that Lent is a more difficult season to structure for a project like this than Advent is, as I found the one year I published a daily Lent series; it can mean many things to many people.

The Art of Holy Week and Easter

Sister Wendy’s The Art of Holy Week and Easter, on the other hand, I did enjoy and recommend, even though I wish it had the same variety as the Lent book. (There’s only one modern/contemporary painting.) I care for only about half the featured artworks—two favorites are below—but even for the ones I was disinclined toward, her commentary helped me appreciate them.

Peter's Repentance
Cristoforo de Predis (Italian, 1440–1486), “Saint Peter realizing he has thrice betrayed Jesus,” from the Leggendario Sforza-Savoia, 1476. Codice Varia 124, Biblioteca Reale (Royal Library), Turin, Italy.

About a medieval manuscript illumination of Peter weeping by Cristoforo de Predis, Sister Wendy writes:

This magical little picture presents an unforgettable image of grief. It is that most painful kind of grief, lamenting of our own folly. Here we see Peter with his shamed face covered, stumbling blindly forward from one closed door to the next. There are ways out behind him, but Peter is too lost in misery to look for them. This claustrophobic despair, this helpless anguish, this incapacitating sense of shame: these are the result of a sudden overturn of our own self-image.

Peter had honestly seen himself as one who loved and followed Jesus, priding himself, moreover, on how true his loyalty was in comparison with that of others. ‘Even if all should betray you, I will never betray you’ – it was a boast, but he had meant it. Now he sees, piercingly, that he is fraudulent. He has been unmasked to himself, he has lost his self-worth.

The crucial question is: What next? Will he hide his face forever, destroyed by self-pity? Will he lose all heart, perhaps even kill himself, as Judas did? But while Judas felt only remorse, Peter feels contrition, a healing sorrow that will lead to repentance and a change of heart. Now that he knows his true weakness, he will cling to Jesus as never before. He will cling in desperate need and not in false strength, and will in the end become truly Peter, the ‘rock’, on which the Church, likewise dependent on Christ, will be built. (26)

El Greco_Christ crucified with Toledo in the Background
El Greco (Greek Spanish, 1541–1614), Christ Crucified with Toledo in the Background, 1604–14. Oil on canvas, 111 × 69 cm. Fundación Banco Santander, Madrid.

About El Greco’s Christ Crucified, she mentions how “Jesus . . . dies looking upwards, his determination set upon his Father’s will and its consummation. . . . His body spirals upwards like a white flame, radiating out as he spreads his arms to share the light with the defeated shadows” (38).

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HYMNS:

>> “O Love, How Deep, How Broad, How High”: I’ve enjoyed learning a few new-to-me hymns from the YouTube channel of Josh Bales. Attributed to the fifteenth-century German-Dutch Catholic mystic Thomas à Kempis, this hymn text was translated from Latin into English by Benjamin Webb in 1871. It appears in the Episcopal hymnal with the tune EISENACH by Bartholomäus Gesius, as adapted by Johann Hermann Schein in 1628, which is what Bales sings. It’s rare among hymns for emphasizing that our salvation was won not just by Christ’s death but also by his life—his faithful obedience to the Father.

>> “I Stand Amazed (How Marvelous)”: A favorite from my childhood, this 1905 gospel hymn by Charles H. Gabriel is performed here by the Imani Milele Choir, made up of orphaned and/or vulnerable children and youth from Uganda.

>> “Come Let Me Love”: I recently learned of this shape-note hymn from a book I’m reading by J. R. Watson. Written by the late great Isaac Watts, the text was first published in the 1706 edition of Watts’s Horæ lyricæ with the title “Christ’s Amazing Love and My Amazing Coldness.” I especially love verses 4 and 5, reproduced below. The tune in the following video, LAVY, is actually a new one (from 1993) that sounds old, by John Bayer Jr.

Infinite grace! Almighty charms!
Stand in amaze, ye rolling skies!
Jesus, the God with naked arms,
Hangs on a cross of love and dies.

Did pity ever stoop so low,
Dress’d in divinity and blood?
Was ever rebel courted so,
In groans of an expiring God?

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VIDEO: Christ by Eric Smith”: This is the first video in the (Catholic) Archdiocese of Brisbane’s four-part Art Aficionados series from 2022. In it, Archbishop Emeritus Mark Coleridge, theology professor Maeve Heaney, and Rev. Dr. Tom Elich of Liturgy Brisbane discuss the semiabstract Ecce homo painting Christ by the modern Australian artist Eric Smith—its pathos, calm, and double irony. This Christ is crushed yet composed, Coleridge says. Smith won the prestigious Blake Prize for Religious Art six times, including, in 1956, for a painting similar to this one (see second image in slideshow below). I’d love to see more dioceses releasing videos like this!—close looking at art.

The other videos in the Art Aficionados series are on The Stories That Weren’t Told by Lee Paje, The Good Samaritan by Olga Bakhtina, and The Visitation by Jacob Epstein.

  • Smith, Eric_Christ
  • Smith, Eric_The Scourged Christ
  • Smith, Eric_Head of Christ
  • Smith, Eric_Head of Christ

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ART SERIES: Via Crucis: La pasión de Cristo (Way of the Cross: The Passion of Christ) by Fernando Botero: Executed in 2010–11, Via Crucis is a series of twenty-seven oil paintings and thirty-four mixed-media drawings by Colombia’s most famous artist, Fernando Botero (1932–2023) [previously]. Botero said he turned to the subject of Christ’s passion not because he’s religious, but out of admiration for the great works of art on the subject; he approached it with “a spirit of great respect,” aiming to portray God as a tortured man. The artist donated the series to the Museo de Antioquia in Medellín for his eightieth birthday. I can’t find a compilation of the whole series (the museum has digital records of the Boteros in its collection, but not all the images are showing up for me)—but you can view fourteen of the paintings in this article, and here’s a quick little Facebook reel.

Marlborough Gallery in New York offers a catalog of the series for $75, and Artika offers a much more expensive one (a gorgeous product, but $9,500!):

Here’s a news segment, in English, about the series’ exhibition at Lisbon’s Palacio de Ajuda in November 2012 (unfortunately, the video quality is low):

Botero, Fernando_Via Crucis
Fernando Botero (Colombian, 1932–2023), Crucifixión (Crucifixion), 2011, and Jesús y la multitud (Jesus and the Crowd), 2010. Oil on canvas. Museo de Antioquia, Medellín, Colombia.

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I have thematic playlists on Spotify for Lent and Holy Week—for the latter, don’t miss “From the Garden to the Tomb” by The Soil and The Seed Project, one of several recent additions.

But, by popular request, I also have a brand-new March 2026 playlist, a somewhat random assortment of songs I’ve been enjoying—some new releases, some not.

“Make Me River” by Abigail Carroll (poem)

Fernandez-Pol, Julia_Glacial Rain
Julia Fernandez-Pol (Argentine, 1984–), Glacial Rain, 2008. Oil on canvas. Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center at Colorado College, Colorado Springs. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.

Make me river, cold
with mountain, green
with quiver, silver in

the run and churn of
winter leaving, valley
waking, sheet moss

breathing. Make me
flash of mica, drift of
foam. O Lord of flux,

make these dry bones
flow, teach me to spill,
pool, glide, fall, tutor me

to long for depth, seek
downward paths, indwell
the low. Oh teach me

liturgy of keel, swirl,
flume, the breaking into
mist, the pull, the press,

the song. Oh form me
into blood of bedrock,
quest of glacier, dream

of sea, release me, set
me free to course, surge,
pour, sweep, issue, eddy,

shower, plummet, roll.
O Lord of flood, O Lord
of spray, unstill my soul.

From Habitation of Wonder (Cascade / Wipf & Stock, 2018). Used with permission.

Abigail Carroll is a poet whose work, as Walter Brueggemann called it, is “an unflinching witness to the reality and goodness of God.” She has authored the collections Cup My Days Like Water (Cascade, 2023), Habitation of Wonder (Cascade, 2018), and A Gathering of Larks: Letters to Saint Francis from a Modern-Day Pilgrim (Eerdmans, 2017), and her poems have also been published in anthologies and periodicals. She makes her home in Vermont, where she serves as associate pastor at Church at the Well. In addition to writing, she enjoys walking, photographing nature, and playing piano.

“Demon Host” by Timber Timbre: A Song Analysis

Timber Timbre is the moniker of the Canadian folk blues singer-songwriter Taylor Kirk. The opening track on his 2009 self-titled album, “Demon Host,” establishes the album’s haunted tone. The song is mournful and mystical, and it references God, religion, sin, death, and repentance.

Death, she must have been your will
A bone beneath the reaper’s veil
With your voice my belly sunk
And I began to feel so drunk

Candle, candle on my clock
Oh Lord, I must have heard you knock
Me out of bed as the flames licked my head
And my lungs filled up black in their tiny little shack
It was real and I repent
All those messages you sent
Clear as day, but in the night
Oh, I couldn’t get it right

Here is a church and here is a steeple
Open the doors, there are the people
And all their little hearts at ease
For another week’s disease

And eagle, eagle talons scream
I never once left in between
I was on the fence and I never wanted your two cents
Down my throat, into the pit, with my head upon the spit
Oh Reverend, please, can I chew your ear?
I’ve become what I most fear
And I know there’s no such thing as ghosts
But I have seen the demon host

There are several different ways to interpret this song, but at its core, it seems to me it’s about an agnostic facing death. In the first four lines he hears death calling to him—personified, atypically, as a woman. The “your,” I think, is God, whom the speaker names a few lines later. (Alternatively, “death” could be a noun of direct address and “your” its pronoun, in which case “she” may refer to a female friend who has died, inciting the crisis that follows.) Unprepared for this sudden confrontation, the speaker feels woozy with shock.

Candles and clocks serve as memento mori, reminders of death. As the wax burns down and time ticks on, he’s jolted out of a nightmare about the flames of judgment. Awake now to the reality of God’s holiness, he repents, realizing that God has been pursuing him all along.

He enters a church, but he’s turned off by the apparent easiness with which the people greet “another week’s disease.” I’m not sure what that means—the horrors and suffering of the world? personal sin? If these Christians struggle with either, they mask it. He is not able to feel the same sense of peace and victory they do.

“Eagle, eagle talons scream” is an elusive yet evocative line that may refer to the feeling of being pierced or gutted, perhaps having one’s sin revealed by the Holy Spirit. Or maybe it expresses a more indefinable sense of anxiety and distress.

The speaker admits he had always been perfectly comfortable sitting on the fence, “in between” faith and no-faith, not committing to this or that system of belief and practice. He never wanted God to intervene with his “two cents” on what is real and how to live. He resents the church’s teachings on eternal punishment and hellfire. And yet he’s ambivalent about Christianity. He cherishes his indecision, but he’s also restless. He seeks out the pastor to talk with.

“I’ve become what I most fear,” he confesses. And what is that? Being sold out to Jesus? Engulfing wickedness?

Even the title of the song, taken from the last line, is ambiguous, as the word “host” has multiple meanings. The “demon host” could refer to an army of demons, to a body that’s possessed by a demon, or to a parody of the Eucharist (in Christian liturgies, the consecrated bread, the body of Christ, is called the host). It seems the speaker has either experienced a stark vision of evil, or some evil has taken hold of him. Or maybe it’s death that he’s characterizing as demonic, but if so, it’s manifesting supernaturally, as he calls it ghostly.

In the music video there’s a menacing hooded figure that stands outside the shed in which Kirk performs, looking very much like the Grim Reaper. This entity listens, then gradually approaches, then even holds the microphone for Kirk, but his face is always in shadow. In some shots we see a second figure, dressed in the same garb, holding a guitar.

Lyrically, the song is unresolved, and musically, the last minute is unsettling.

Is this a song about damnation? Or dying to self, crucifying the ego, part of the conversion process? What about addiction? Or surviving a near-death experience and living in light of that? Whatever the particulars, the song is in the voice of someone who is shaken from his equivocation into seriously considering faith; someone who wrestles with God, mortality, and evil.

I’m eager to hear what you make of it or what stands out to you.

Roundup: Kyries for Lent, refugee-themed art exhibition at Portsmouth Cathedral, “Forevergreen,” and more

NEW BOOK: Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter, Second Edition: Plough is the publishing house of the Bruderhof, an international Anabaptist communal movement. This year they released a revised and expanded edition of their popular Lent and Easter devotional, increasing the original seventy-two entries to ninety-six to cover the full fifty days of Easter—although the last section is themed around Pentecost. The selections are all from previously published material, but what a treasure-house has been curated here from across denominations, countries, and eras, from early church fathers to medieval mystics to modern saints. Clement of Rome, Julian of Norwich, Kahlil Gibran, Watchman Nee, Gonzalo Báez Camargo, Thomas Merton, Simone Veil, Howard Thurman, Toyohiko Kagawa, Barbara Brown Taylor, Jürgen Moltmann, Tish Harrison Warren—these are some of the many voices included here that reflect on and expound the beautiful truths of the Lent and Easter seasons. Each reading is just a few pages long, so it’s easy to pick up with your morning coffee or just before bed.

Bread and Wine book cover

Besides the expansion, other changes I’ve noticed in this edition are:

  • Thinner pages, which, despite the additional content, reduce the overall thickness of the book
  • The epigraph at the beginning of each reading was removed, as these were not the authors’.
  • Thirteen of the original readings were replaced, possibly due to permissions costs, but maybe also just to get in some fresh voices or content, and in one case, to remove an accused sex abuser.
  • A misattribution in the original to Mother Teresa was corrected to Joseph Langford, who founded the Missionaries of Charity Fathers with her.
  • There is a slight reordering of readings so that pertinent meditations appear during Holy Week.

I’ve provided a link to the Plough book page above, but you can also purchase through Amazon or your retailer of choice.

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SONGS:

I grew up in an independent Baptist church, ignorant of most of the historic prayers of the church at large. The first time I ever heard the phrase “Kyrie eleison” [previously] was on track 5 of the Christian recording artist Mark Schultz’s 2001 album Song Cinema, which is a cover of an eighties rock song by Mr. Mister. I was in middle school, and I had to look up what it meant. Derived from a prayer found in multiple places in the Psalms and the Gospels, “Kyrie eleison” (pronounced KEER-ee-ay eh-LAY-ee-sohn) is Greek for “Lord, have mercy,” and it’s traditionally followed by “Christe eleison”—Christ, have mercy. An inheritance from early Eastern Christian liturgies, it has been part of the Ordinary of the Catholic Mass since the fifth century, which means it’s recited or sung in every eucharistic service regardless of the liturgical season, and it’s used in many other Christian traditions as well. I’ve never been part of a church that sings the Kyrie, but I occasionally sing it in my personal devotions. It’s been set to music by hundreds of composers, for choirs, contemporary bands, and more. Here are two settings that I’ve recently come across and enjoy, followed by a song that entreats (God’s?) mercy on father, brother, church, country, and every living thing.

>> “Kyrie (Lord, Have Mercy)” by Robert Alan Rife: This song was written by Robert Alan Rife [previously], a minister with the Evangelical Covenant Church, serving in Edinburgh. It’s performed here by worship musicians at Great Road Church (formerly Highrock Covenant Church) in Acton, Massachusetts. The lead vocalist is Caelyn Jarrett Poetz; she’s accompanied on guitar by her dad, Travis Jarrett, the church’s music pastor, and Hannah Moulton provides backing vocals. Rife tells me you can purchase the sheet music here, and that other songs of his can be streamed on Spotify, Apple Music, etc.; he has not yet recorded this one, but it’s in the works.

>> “Kyrie” by Paul Smith: This peaceful, resonant setting of the Kyrie was composed by Paul Smith, cofounder of the Grammy-nominated British vocal ensemble VOCES8, who perform it here. The song appears on Smith’s 2025 album Revelations.

>> “Mercy Now” by Mary Gauthier: In this video from the 2010 Americana Music Festival in Nashville, folk singer-songwriter Mary Gauthier (last name pronounced go-SHAY) performs her most famous song, “Mercy Now,” originally released on her 2005 album of the same title. It doesn’t directly invoke God, but it feels like a prayer, asking for mercy (forgiveness, relief, compassion, lovingkindness) first for two family members—her father on his deathbed, and her drug-addicted brother—and then for the institutions of church and state, both in need of repair, and then for everyone: “We all could use a little mercy now / I know we don’t deserve it / But we need it anyhow,” and “only the hand of grace” can give it, can intervene to save us from our self-destructive ways. In response to the song’s being listed as “one of the saddest 40 country songs of all time” by Rolling Stone in 2014, Gauthier said, “It is not a sad song. It is about hope.”

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EXHIBITION: Sanctuary by Nicholas Mynheer, February 18–April 12, 2026, Portsmouth Cathedral, UK: One of my favorite artists, Nicholas Mynheer, has a show that opened on Ash Wednesday at Portsmouth Cathedral, aka the Cathedral of the Sea, and that will continue for the duration of Lent plus some. “The exhibition features paintings and sculptures that explore the experiences of refugees, both ancient and contemporary. The story of Jesus, Mary and Joseph fleeing to Egypt sits alongside the realities faced by people crossing the English Channel today. Mynheer’s work doesn’t offer easy answers – instead, it asks questions. What would we do if our home were no longer safe? How do we respond to those seeking refuge? What does it mean to hope for a better life when the risks are so great?”

Mynheer, Nicholas_The Holy Family Cross the English Channel
Nicholas Mynheer (British, 1958–), The Holy Family Cross the English Channel, 2025. Oil on canvas, 30 × 30 cm.

View artworks from the exhibition on the artist’s website at https://www.mynheer-art.co.uk/gallery/sanctuary-exhibition.html. Follow him on Instagram @mynheer_art. Mynheer writes:

As an artist, one of the themes that I’ve been drawn to repeatedly is that of the Holy Family on the Flight to Egypt. The fact that even Jesus, Mary and Joseph became refugees to escape the wrath of Herod reminds us that it could happen to any one of us.

Over the past years we have become increasingly aware of the plight of refugees; from Syria, Afghanistan, Ukraine, Somalia, along with daily reports of refugees attempting to cross the English Channel. Whether they flee from war, persecution, famine, political instability or for economic reasons, the risks are the same; all driven by hope, the hope of a better life.

I often wonder what I would do if I lived in a country ravaged by war? What would I do if I was persecuted for my faith, my colour or my culture? What would I do if scrolling on my phone, others’ lives seemed easier, happier, and all I had to do was get there?

It is my hope that these meditations in paint and stone might draw us in to question how we might respond if we, like Jesus, Mary and Joseph, were forced to seek refuge; to be refugees . . . to search for Sanctuary.

Starting February 25, Portsmouth Cathedral is offering a free four-week Lent course (classes are in person on Wednesday evenings) inspired by the exhibition. The first class will be a talk by Mynheer himself, and the other three will be led by clergy, exploring biblical themes of journey, rescue, and redemption through the art on display.

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CALL FOR ART: The Valley of Dry Bones, Museum of the Bible, Washington, DC:The Valley of Dry Bones art invitational seeks to inspire the creation of new artwork based on Ezekiel 37:1–14, the biblical vision in which God brings life, renewal, and restoration to a valley of dry bones. Museum of the Bible invites Christian and Jewish artists residing in the continental United States to create original pieces in a variety of media that show their personal and spiritual reflections on this powerful theme. The goal is to show how the Bible can shape modern art and give visitors a meaningful way to connect with biblical themes through creativity. Museum of the Bible will choose 15 artists through a national call and design a professional exhibition to showcase their art from May 7–November 7, 2027. The museum will also help promote the artists and their work through talks, social media, and special events. Each artist chosen will be paid a stipend of $3,000 to cover the costs of creation, travel, and shipping.” Entry deadline: April 24, 2026.

Here’s a double print on the subject by my friend Margaret Adams Parker, aka Peggy:

Parker, Margaret Adams_Ezekiel 37
Margaret Adams Parker (American, 1948–), Ezekiel 37, from The Vigil Etchings, 2013–14. Etching with roulette and aquatint on Somerset velvet white paper, each 8 1/2 × 5 1/2 in. Edition of 15.

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SHORT FILM: Forevergreen (2025), dir. Nathan Engelhardt and Jeremy Spears: With the announcement of the 2025 Academy Award nominations last month, I learned that Forevergreen is one of five nominees for Best Animated Short Film! Written and directed by two Christians in the animation industry (employed by Disney but working independently here) and executed by a team of over a hundred, Forevergreen is a thirteen-minute gospel-oriented film in which “an orphaned bear cub finds a home with a fatherly evergreen tree, until his hunger for trash leads him to danger.” I found out about it last November through the music artists who wrote the soundtrack, Josh Garrels and Isaac Wardell, and am delighted to see it recognized in such a huge way. I really dig its unique animation style, which uses whittled wood figures. The movie is currently streaming for free on YouTube (see embed below), but if you want to see it on a big screen, check your local theater listings.

Ash Wednesday: All Flesh Is like Grass

All flesh is like grass
    and all its glory like the flower of grass.
The grass withers,
    and the flower falls,
but the word of the Lord endures forever.

—1 Peter 1:24–25

LOOK: French Exit by Tadao Cern

Cern, Tadao_French Exit
Tadao Cern (Lithuanian, 1983–), French Exit, 2020. Installation of dried grass.

In this installation by Tadao Cern, hundreds of thousands of dried grass stalks are suspended from the ceiling, creating a dense cloud under which viewers can walk. It’s an organic memento mori, a reminder of death. The title, French Exit, refers to the act of leaving a social gathering or a date without saying goodbye. The artist said he wanted viewers to consider their farewells.

Throughout the duration of the installation, some of the dead grass falls from the hovering field onto the floor, to be swept away.

Cern, Tadao_French Exit

LISTEN: “All Flesh Is Like the Grass (1 Peter 1:24–25)” by Fernando Ortega, on The Shadow of Your Wings: Hymns and Sacred Songs (2006)

All flesh is like the grass
The grass withers and fades away
All flesh is like the grass
The grass withers and fades away

The glory of man, like a flower
That shrivels in the sun and falls
The glory of man, like a flower
That shrivels in the sun and falls

But the word of the Lord
Endures forever
The word of the Lord
Endures forever

All flesh is like the grass
The grass withers and fades away
All flesh is like the grass
The grass withers and fades away

The glory of man, like a flower
That shrivels in the sun and falls
The glory of man, like a flower
That shrivels in the sun and falls

But the word of the Lord
Endures forever
The word of the Lord
Endures forever

Roundup: Ants after Carnival, organic memento mori, “Turning” by Deanna Witkowski, and more

Lent starts next Wednesday, February 18, so I want to remind you about my Lent Playlist on Spotify. There are plenty of songs for contemplative listening throughout the season. I periodically add new entries to the bottom. Recent additions include a song by Amanda Held Opelt about being in the belly of a whale; “Living Water” by Sr. Miriam Therese Winter of the Medical Mission Sisters; Paul Zach’s cover of Johnny Cash’s “The Beast in Me”; and a setting of Matthew 4:17 by Seth Thomas Crissman of The Soil and The Seed Project, whose parallel verse, Mark 1:15, is commonly recited with the imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday.

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VIDEO ART: Quarta-Feira de Cinzas / Epilogue (Ash Wednesday / Epilogue) by Rivane Neuenschwander with Cao Guimarães: When visiting the Museum of Modern Art in New York last month, I encountered a video work from Brazil that I found mesmerizing. The Perez Art Museum Miami describes it this way:

In Rivane Neuenschwander’s video Quarta-Feira de Cinzas / Epilogue (Ash Wednesday / Epilogue), made in collaboration with artist Cao Guimarães, ants become the protagonists of a captivating journey. Shot on Ash Wednesday, after the end of Brazilian Carnival, the video follows a colony of leafcutter ants as they traverse the rough terrain of a forest floor, transporting pieces of colored confetti to their underground nest. The video is set to a digitally composed soundtrack that blends ambient natural sounds with the sound of matchsticks dropping onto the floor. At the video’s end, we watch the ants descend into the darkness of their nest, intent, perhaps, on furnishing a celebration of their own.

Ash Wednesday / Epilogue
Rivane Neuenschwander (Brazilian, 1967–) with Cao Guimarães (Brazilian, 1965–), Quarta-Feira de Cinzas / Epilogue (Ash Wednesday / Epilogue), 2006. High-definition video (color, sound), 5:44 min. Photo courtesy of Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York.

You can watch a one-minute clip from the nearly six-minute video on Guimarães’s website: https://www.caoguimaraes.com/en/obra/quarta-feira-de-cinzas/.

Originating in the Middle Ages, Carnival—from the Latin carve vale, meaning “flesh, farewell!” (flesh = meat)—is a period of merrymaking before the solemn restraints of Lent. It’s primarily a secular folk custom, celebrated by many with hedonistic parties involving excessive drinking. But Carnival need not be debauched, and some Christians celebrate it with social gatherings, games, parades, and/or food traditions. A Polish Catholic coworker of mine would always bring pączki (jelly donuts) to the office on Fat Tuesday (Mardi Gras in French), the day before Ash Wednesday. Some churches host a pancake supper on that evening, using up eggs, milk, and sugar, ingredients that were historically forbidden during Lent, along with bacon and sausage. At The Liturgical Home, Ashley Tumlin Wallace describes Fat Tuesday as a transition day moving God’s people out of Epiphanytide.

Neuenschwander and Guimarães’s Ash Wednesday / Epilogue is, first and foremost, fun and playful. We don’t tend to think of insects having parties! I wonder what the ants are doing with those vibrant little metallized discs. But the video also, for me, captures something of the tone of the first day of Lent—a quiet sweeping up after the previous day’s festivities, the humans of this place having left their revelries to go to church, where they enter a time of penitence.

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BLOG POST: “Ash Wednesday” by Libby John: I really appreciated these four guided journal prompts that Libby John, founder of the Vivid Artistry creative collective, gave last Lent:

  1. What is something in my life I am seeking for God to renew and restore?
  2. What rhythms in my life need to be interrupted and reoriented to God’s heart for me?
  3. What are some ways I can surrender my schedule to help attune my senses to more of God’s presence?
  4. Am I bringing my whole self to God or do I divide and keep parts of my life from him?

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ARTICLE: “Anya Gallaccio’s Organic Mementos Mori” by Eliza Goodpasture, Hyperallergic: Rotting apples threaded with hanging twine, shriveling red daisies pressed between plexiglass, burning candles creating waxen landscapes on aluminum foil, a hundred-plus-year-old ash tree stricken with ash dieback disease—these were among the memento mori (reminders of death) installed at artist Anya Gallaccio’s exhibition preserve at Turner Contemporary in Margate, England, in fall 2024. “The potency of the transient works is so magnetic,” writes reviewer Eliza Goodpasture. “The Christian motif of dust to dust undergirds it all. . . . The artist reminds us that decay is full of energy—not just an ending, but part of an endless circle of life.”

Gallaccio, Anya_Falling from grace
Anya Gallaccio (Scottish, 1963–), Falling from grace, 2000. 2,700 Gala apples, hop twine. Installation view at Turner Contemporary, Margate, 2024. Photo: Jo Underhill, courtesy of the artist.

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SONGS:

>> “Turning” by Deanna Witkowski: Deanna Witkowski is a jazz composer and pianist living in Chicago. She wrote this choral piece for Lent, a season in which the liturgies call us to turn away from sin and toward God. That’s what repentance means: changing direction. The first verse is taken from Psalm 119:36–40. “Turn our hearts, O Lord, from selfish gain to your commandments . . .”

For a 2023 performance by the Hendricks Chapel Choir at Syracuse University, see here. Purchase the score here.

>> “Miraculous Salvation” by Tenielle Neda: This song by the Australian singer-songwriter Tenielle Neda praises God for the grace he lavishes on us and for his great love. Backing vocals are provided by Chris Cho.

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CAROL TEXT: “Revert, revert” by James Ryman, ca. 1492: Medievalist Eleanor Parker shares this Lenten carol text by the fifteenth-century Franciscan friar James Ryman, from Cambridge University Library MS Ee 1.12. The burden (repeated stanza) is “Revert, revert, revert, revert; / O sinful man, give me thine heart”—an echo of Isaiah 44:22, “Return to me, for I have redeemed you.” Written in Christ’s voice, it calls us to remember how he took on our flesh, was baptized, and was flogged and crucified for our sakes. I think the shield in stanza 3 refers to the cross; the Via Dolorosa was a battlefield on which Christ fought the devil, and paradoxically, the instrument of his execution was the means of victory.

Fast from X, Feast on Y

Holi celebration
One of thirteen wall-mounted display panels (with opening doors) designed by Kossmanndejong for the ambulatory of the Church of St. Lawrence in Rotterdam, portraying the city’s diverse religious festivals. This one portrays Holi, a Hindu festival in March celebrating the victory of light over darkness and involving the throwing of colored powder and water. I took this photo when visiting during Lent 2019.

The following text has been floating around the internet for some time. It’s often attributed to the American motivational writer and Methodist lay leader William Arthur Ward (1921–1994), but it is not in his compilation of maxims, Fountains of Faith (Droke House, 1970), and it doesn’t sound like his other writings.

Fast from judging others; feast on the Christ within them.
Fast from emphasis on difference; feast on the unity of life.
Fast from apparent darkness; feast on the reality of light.
Fast from thoughts of illness; feast on the healing power of God.

Fast from words that pollute; feast on phrases that purify.
Fast from discontent; feast on gratitude.
Fast from anger; feast on patience.
Fast from pessimism; feast on optimism.

Fast from complaining; feast on appreciation.
Fast from worry; feast on trust in God’s care.
Fast from unrelenting pressure; feast on unceasing prayer.
Fast from facts that depress; feast on verities that uplift.

Fast from lethargy; feast on enthusiasm.
Fast from thoughts that weaken; feast on promises that inspire.
Fast from shadows of sorrow; feast on the sunlight of serenity.
Fast from problems that overwhelm; feast on prayer that undergirds.

Fast from bitterness; feast on forgiveness.
Fast from self-concern; feast on compassion for others.
Fast from personal anxiety; feast on eternal truth.
Fast from discouragements; feast on hope.

(Related post: “John Chrysostom on holistic fasting”)

It’s a stirring exhortation, and it always gets special traction during Lent, a penitential season in which many Christians practice the spiritual discipline of fasting (in the traditional sense of limiting food intake) and/or abstinence (refraining from eating a certain type of food). The language of “fasting” can be confusing, because traditionally, you’re to fast from good things for a set period of time, and then enjoy them all the more fully during a period of feasting; but people sometimes use the word “fast” to describe the act of giving up something that’s bad for them or that’s unholy and that, truth be told, would best be given up year-round. This text uses the latter meaning: reducing or abstaining from attitudes and behaviors that drag you or others down. It also acknowledges, as did the church fathers, that when you cut something unwholesome out of your life, it’s often wise to replace it with something wholesome.

Lent is an annual prompt for self-examination, a spiritual wellness check in which we’re invited to identify the ways we’ve veered off course from the way of Christ (or where we’re stumbling) and to let Christ’s grace draw us back (or help us surmount the obstacles). It’s a chance to tend to our disordered manners of being and develop healthy new habits as we seek to live more faithfully as people of God.

In February 2010, Msgr. Kerry Beaulieu adapted the above text for Our Lady Queen of Angels Catholic Church in Newport Beach, California, which he pastored from 2004 to 2018:

Fast from a gloomy outlook on life;
Feast on what is bright and cheerful.

Fast from always being right;
Feast on seeing another’s point of view.

Fast from always pointing out differences;
Feast on what unites us all.

Fast from words that pollute;
Feast on those that purify.

Fast from complaining;
Feast on appreciation.

Fast from self-pity;
Feast on goodness in others and self.

Fast from self-concern;
Feast on going out to others.

Fast from overdoing;
Feast on time for prayer.

Fast from worry;
Feast on God’s love.

It was also adapted into the song “Fast from, Feast On” in 2014 by Latifah Alattas and Dave Wilton and is performed by Alattas (under the artist name Page CXVI) on the album Lent to Maundy Thursday.

Fast from the swelling darkness
Feast on the power of his light
Fast from discontentment
Feast on the joy that he brings

Refrain:
Sustainer, protector, the well of life
My helper, my comfort, the bread of life
Is you
Is you

Fast from the fear that haunts us
Feast on the power of his might
Fast from the trap of judgment
Feast on all that’s been redeemed [Refrain]

Bridge:
From the sorrow’s shadow to perfect light
From the darkness of our doubt to a cleansing white
From the sorrow’s shadow to perfect light
From the blindness of our sin to healing sight [Refrain]

I recommend choosing one or more of these fast-feast pairings to partake of during Lent. Or you could write your own aspirational list, tailored to the areas where you struggle and want to see growth. Rephrase it as a vow: “I will fast from . . . I will feast on . . .” If you are comfortable sharing for the edification of other readers, feel free to do so in the Comments section below.