Friday, March 15, 2024

Ordinary Angels

I actually saw this movie a couple weekends ago, but I dragged my feet blogging about it because, frankly, I spend so much time at work perched in front of a screen that I didn't feature spending more at home. But here I go.

Based on a true story, this movie stars Hilary Swank as an alcoholic hairdresser in Louisville, Ky. who decides, at the outset of her own healing journey, to fundraise for a family she doesn't even personally know. She kind of forces her help down their throats, despite the dad's (Alan Ritchson of TV's "Titans" and "Reacher") discomfort with having her in their business. Ritchson plays a roofing contractor who has just buried his wife and must now raise his daughters with the help of his mother, played by Nancy Travis. The younger of the two girls has a medical condition that will end the way her mother's illness did, unless she gets a liver transplant pronto. Swank swoops in, soliciting donations, arranging for transportation and finally, in the middle of a once-in-a-century blizzard, pulling together a crowd of volunteers to do the impossible, to make sure the little girl makes it to Omaha to collect her new liver.

There are a lot of sickbed scenes in this movie. What the little girl goes through makes it sometimes hard to watch. And you may be surprised to learn that there is neither a spark of romance between the two leads nor an overtly religious message. Ritchson & family darken the door of their church just twice in this movie, and when Swank does so as well, it's apparently a novelty for her and she clearly doesn't fit in. But hearts of gold can be found in amazing places, even in the boozy bosom of a hairdresser who dresses like a tart and has a toxic relationship with her own son. Her vulnerability and the unwise decisions she makes in her personal life add another layer of "boy, this is uncomfortable to watch" to a movie that finally builds up to a gripping climax as the tension over whether daughter No. 2 will make it becomes nearly unbearable.

The acting is pretty good. Nancy Travis isn't afraid to look like Grandma. Hilary Swank takes naturally to the kind of character who throws a lifeline to the hero family and, at the same time, probably shouldn't be around them. Even Ritchson transcends type (stoic stud) and delivers scenes of desperate, agonizing emotion. The obligatory closing titles, showing images of the real-life people in the story and information about what happened to them afterward, are worth staying for. It's a nice movie about a small, ordinary family dealt a tough hand, and a community pulling together to help. I wouldn't call it a great film, but I think it's one that families could watch together, with characters they can root for, without the over-the-top costumes, action and effects that Hollywood seems to be throwing all its money at these days. It's the kind of decent, small movie there used to be more of and, one hopes, there will be more of in the future.

Three Scenes That Made It For Me: (1) Pick just about any scene where Swank's character uses her power of persistence, and her obliviousness to boundaries, to score donations, and even commitments of private aircraft and an open runway during a blizzard, for the hero family. (2) Pick just about any scene where Ritchson is about to say "no" and Travis takes over and says "yes." Like when Swank shows up with an envelope full of cash and Grandma invites her in for dinner, despite Ritchson's clear discomfort. (3) Swank's estranged son shows up with a shovel when everything depends on a bunch of last-minute volunteers clearing a landing zone for a helicopter.

The movie also stars Amy Acker (Alias, Angel), Drew Powell (Gotham) and Tamala Jones (Castle). Director Jon Gunn has written and/or directed a number of faith-centered films, including the upcoming feature The Unbreakable Boy as well as American Underdog, Jesus Revolution, The Case for Christ and I Still Believe, among other titles. One of its screenwriters is Oscar-nominated actress Meg Tilly, who also happens to be an author with some 10 novels to her name.

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Profitable Hymns: First Line Index

I've decided the working title for my fourth book of hymns – at this writing, just starting to get underway – will be "Profitable Hymns for Meditation in the Lutheran Church, School and Home." I plan to add to this directory as the book grows, since experience with my past couple of volumes has taught me this is a (cough) profitable approach to keeping track of my progress and editing the material later. Eventually, it'll just sit here as, I hope, a helpful reference. It'll also be linked to the main Book Trolley page, where similar indices for the preceding books are already in place. And so, in ABC order:
Christ, who passed through a desert place ... Temptation

I was not there when Jesus died ... Time & eternity

Lo, the dewy stem grows dry ... Word of the Lord stands
Lo, what love the Father shows us ... Trinitarian love

O holy Mind, that did not think ... Having the mind of Christ

Would you see the Love of God? ... Look to Jesus

Thursday, March 7, 2024

506. Of Time and Eternity

A sermon that I heard last night gave me a new perspective on (and maybe, appreciation of) the traditional American spiritual, "Were you there when they crucified my Lord." Here is a hymn that began to percolate in my skull during that message. I have no particular tune in mind at this time. Please excuse it's length; now and then you just have to say a thing completely. Oh, and here's Salvador Dali's depiction of Jesus on the cross. Interesting, isn't it? I grew up looking at a copy of this painting on my parents' wall and if a picture is worth a thousand words, perhaps it justifies my prolixity.

I was not there when Jesus died
In earthly space and time,
But on one Cross is crucified
Each sinner's every crime.

Before the Lord's eternal throne
One perfect Victim bleeds.
One, guiltless, suffers to atone
And, in defeat, succeeds.

God's Mercy Seat pervades all time
And penetrates all space;
One death thus answers for all crime,
Each moment, every place.

If Christ before such throne has bled,
Then my sin, too, was there.
For me was struck that sacred Head;
His sprinkled blood I wear.

For me are pierced those healing hands,
Those seldom resting feet,
When nature dons her mourning bands
Before that Mercy Seat.

For me, the words "Behold your son,"
"Today, in Paradise";
For me the cry when all was done,
And fully paid, the price.

For me the daylight turns to night;
For me earth's pillars quake,
The sanctuary bared to sight,
Its screen torn for my sake.

For me the tombs are broken up,
The faithful dead arise.
To me is passed the blessing-cup;
Christ greets my lips and eyes.

Before creation's deepest pile
By living Word was laid,
That Lamb is slain, and all the while
God's choice is freely made.

Before His face have I been bathed,
His Spirit on me poured.
Across all ages, I am swathed
In my Anointed Lord.

God's Son, indeed, is one with God,
And none can Christ divide.
And so, complete with flesh and blood,
I live in Him who died.

Now, bodily, my Lord is near,
My faith to feed and grow,
To do my deeds, to hear my prayer,
Unstinting grace to show.

In Him I live and breathe and move,
And when at last I rest,
Before the throne of faithful love
I'll evermore be blest.

Tuesday, February 27, 2024

505. To Have the Mind of Christ

I forget how long ago I started writing this hymn. A fragment of the first stanza has been sketched out on paper for months, at least, awaiting completion. I decided to complete it today, creating what is in effect another Fruit of the Spirit hymn. (Also see here.) Relevant Scripture references include Galatians 5:22 and Philippians 2:5-11. At this time, I have no particular tune in mind, but lots of options exist including several that I have written myself. So, no worries.

O holy Mind, that did not think
To seize Your crown by force, to shrink
From death by cross, all man to serve:
You suffered loss with awful nerve.
You scorned the shame; You shamed the scorn
Of them who crowned Your brow with thorn.
Your crimson badge now on me bind;
In me plant such a servant mind.

In me plant love, that from my breast
May flow what serves my neighbor best.
In me plant joy, that I may lift
A thankful song for every gift.
In me plant peace, and make an end
Of strifes that in my heart contend.
All these from Your own Spirit flow,
That I and all Your mind might know.

In me plant patience, bearing pain,
That I may count my losses gain.
In me plant kindness, showing grace
Like what on me beams from Your face.
In me plant goodness, pouring care
On all who my redemption share.
On all these graces let me draw;
Against such things there is no law.

In me plant faithfulness through all,
Come bitter wormwood, acrid gall.
In me plant meekness, bearing blows
With grace none but the Spirit knows.
In me, indeed, plant self-control,
Abhorring sin with all my soul
Till, falling down before Your throne,
Your name as Lord of all I own.

In these good gifts, good Lord, I find
The pattern of Christ Jesus' mind:
Who could have struck Your mockers dead,
But bore their load of sin instead.
Now, covered by Your paschal blood,
Let me imbibe that selfsame good
Which, binding Three in One above,
Now fills the world with saving love.

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Tacky Hymns 121

It's yet another installment of the hymnal supplement All Creation Sings! Yay!!!

Going into the "Commitment, Discipleship" section, 1085 is "Hope of the world" by Georgia Harkness (†1974), set to the 16th century tune DONNE SECOURS; in LSB 690 it's set to EIRENE. I previously commented on it here. Was I too hard on it? I dunno. I'll let it go by with 0 tacks.

1086 is "O God, who gives us life and breath" by Carl P. Daw Jr. (b. 1944), set to NOEL, an English tune arranged by Arthur Sullivan (†1900) – don't laugh, this is serious – which some of us actually recall seeing paired with the Christmas hymn "It came upon the midnight clear" (cf. the Common Service Book & Hymnal). Stanza 1 calls on the God who calls us out of death to life, bidding Him "deliver us from fears that kill the life we have from you." St. 2 finds God calling us from the "bleak abyss of doubt" and the "wastes of empty lies," asking Him to refresh us with undying hope. St. 3 addresses Him as the "God of covenant of law" and and says, "We dare not speak your name." It concludes that we are drawn to Him by faith as he writes His "covenant of love" on our hearts. I'd call it an OK hymn but I'm rather astonished to find, really, no gospel in it. 2 tacks.

As the "Praise, Thanksgiving" section begins, 1087 is "Glory to God, whose goodness shines," words and music by Paul M. Vasile (b. 1976), based on the Gloria Patri ("Glory be to the Father..."). It interpolates a few lines of description of each Person of the Trinity into the text, to fill out the meter, which I suppose is in keeping with the tradition of liturgical paraphrases. It does so in a pop-musicky style, accompaniment omitted. And its second stanza doesn't do anything except repeat "World without end, without end. Amen" three times before returning to the refrain "As it was in the beginning," etc., which makes stanza 2 redundant. It's a little slip of a thing that doesn't do what a hymn is designed to do. It should probably be part of a liturgical setting, or at least a section set aside for optional service music, and though the next couple of hymns deliver the fleeting impression that that's what this section is, it isn't. 2 tacks.

1088 is "Hallelujah," or rather, "Halle, hallelujah," just those words over and over, set to a traditional Syrian tune. It's again a tiny little scrap of a thing, even more so than the previous number, hardly of any use as a hymn but maybe as an alternative liturgical setting. For being in the wrong part of the book and omitting the accompaniment, 2 tacks.

1089 is "Holy, holy, holy," an Argentine traditional setting of the Sanctus and Benedictus, in both Spanish and English. Which would be great if this was a Spanish-language hymnal, but it's not. And the presumption that it will be sung in Spanish is underscored by the way the English lyrics don't even try to fit under the notes. If the message to English-speaking Lutherans is that they should try to forget about worshiping in their own language, message received. 1 tack.

1090 is "Heaven opened to Isaiah," uncredited Rwandan words and music paraphrased and arranged by Greg Scheer (b. 1966). The setting does evoke the sound of African-style part-singing, with some ossia notes added on top and bottom for people willing to try for a high or low F. Text-wise, it's kind of the Rwandan version of Luther's "Isaiah, mighty seer," telling the story of the prophetic encounter (theophany, technically) that gives us the "Holy, holy, holy," out of the mouths of angels. Stanza 2 adds cherubim to the chorus of seraphim, Te Deum-fashion, then pitches in "all of earth's redeemed" in singing, "Glory to the Lord on high" – so, we're covering the full range of liturgical hymns of praise. Stanza 3 closes the circle with the end-times song of all saints "from ev'ry time and nation," teasing the anthem of Revelation 5 but actually landing on a Trinitarian doxology. I'm impressed. In a town-gown church where there may actually be a chance of the congregation doing it in parts, it might be pretty cool. 0 tacks.

1091 is "Hallelujah! Sing praise to your Creator," the rare hymn in this book that capitalizes divine titles. It's by Tilly Lubis (†2002), based on Psalm 148, translated by David Diephouse (b. 1947), and set to a Batak (i.e. Indonesian) melody arranged by H.A. Pandopo (b. 1935), who (Hymnary.org informs me) is also known as Hermanus Arie van Dop, a Dutch missionary to Indonesia. It has a pretty distinctive cadence to it that might take a bit of adjustment for Grandma and Grandpa Smurf & Co. The presumption of part singing is, again, well-marked, with an "Oh" between phrases for the tenor and bass parts only. What I said about a town-gown church may apply here; but just as likely, if not more likely, this will just be a choir piece. Therefore, 1 tack.

1092 is "Thank you, Lord," a "traditional" hymn in what I'd call the "round the campfire" style of spiritual folk song. Stanza 1 is all repeats of the first line, concluding, "I just want to thank you, Lord" – and those of us who have remained conscious during the sorts of civic-religion prayer that usually starts with "Father God" know just how much the words "I just want" are worth. The same refrain follows three more stanzas, which, respectively, comprise threefold repetitions of "Been so good," "Been my friend" and "Love you, Lord." It gives so little in proportion to the time it takes up that the hot dogs had better be roasted by the time it's over. And until you get to "been my friend," it isn't clear who has "been so good." You might think you're singing about yourself there. Awkward! 4 tacks.

1093 is "In deep, unbounded darkness" by "anonymous, China," translated by Francis P. Jones (†1975) and adapted by Mary Louise Bringle (b. 1953), set to DIVINUM MYSTERIUM (cf. "Of the Father's love begotten") and notated in the manner of plainchant, with stemless noteheads. In my opinion, that's a solid strategy for getting Lutheran laypeople to take one look and say, "Nuh-uh." And it's uncalled-for, what with the modern-notation settings of this tune that are amply available. And really, if you want to achieve that effect, why stop there? Why not go all the way and use Gregorian notation and a C-clef? Then you can make even a well-trained organist sweat. As for the lyrics, they take until stanza 3 to mention Christ, but other than that I have no beef with it. For the needlessly intimidating plainchant layout and omitting the accompaniment, 2 tacks.

1094 is "Bring many names" by Bran Wren (b. 1936), set to Carlton P. Young's (b. 1926) tune WESTCHASE, accompaniment omitted. In bringing many names, Stanza 2 leads off with "Strong mother God," and that's before st. 3 gets to "father God," so you know this is going to get bloody. If I were in possession of an anathema, I would slap it down right here and turn the page. This is not how God has revealed himself; so you can take that name and keep it, sparky. Wren attributes creation to this mother; when he moves on to the father God, he depicts him (I kid you not) as "hugging every child," sympathizing with "the strains of human living" and forgiving. Then there's "old, aching God," like a bearded wizard, full of wisdom and moral insight. And then, "young, growing God, eager, on the move," a social justice warrior; and finally, "great, living God," incomprehensible, hidden, invisible, yet always near and our "everlasting home." Somehow among all these aspects of God, there is no Christ and no Trinity. You should tear this page out of the book, sprinkle holy water on it, then anoint it liberally with oil and burn it at the crossroads. I'd love to say, "Brian Wren, I'm done with you," but unfortunately I'm not. 5 tacks.

1095 is "How shall I sing that majesty" by John Mason (†1694), set to Kenneth Naylor's (†1991) tune COE FEN. Mason's poem is a personal appeal to be inducted into the celestial choir, and to be shone upon by God. It concludes with a whole stanza of superlatives addressed to God. To me, it seems more like a verse for private devotions than congregational worship, though I don't object to such artifacts being in a book of hymns. I'd be more thrilled with it if it said anything particularly about Christ. For omitting the accompaniment, 1 tack.

1096 is "Joyful is the dark" by Wren (sigh), set to Young's tune LINDNER. This time (unlike 1093) the darkness never breaks; all five stanzas start with the same line. In the first stanza, Wren characterizes the hiddenness of God, even revealed as "Word-in-flesh," as an unnameable "rolling cloud of night." Stanza 2 moves on to the Holy Spirit, hovering over the deep with "plumage black and bright" – a raven, not a dove. Where is he getting this stuff? St. 3 moves on to the "shadowed stable floor" over which "angels flicker," hailing the birth of Jesus. St. 4 finds us in the cool tomb, claiming that there was no dread and gloom while Jesus slumbered there (a claim the apostles might contend with). The final stanza depicts the glory of God as a "roaring, looming thundercloud" which, strangely enough, is actually biblical. Nevertheless, I feel, Wren strains to keep his unifying theme together, to the detriment of telling the story. For that and for again omitting the accompaniment, 2 tacks.

1097 is "Ten thousand reasons" (first line: "Bless the Lord, O my soul"), words and music by Mark Redman (b. 1974) and Jonas Myrin (b. 1982). It's a contemporary worship ditty that vaguely threatens (in the first line of its refrain) to be a paraphrase of either Psalm 103 or 104, but immediately backs down. For the most part. A couple of phrases evoke deep cuts within Psalm 103, like "slow to anger" in st. 2. I'd be a bigger fan of the genre if, just once in a while, its writers would make a real effort to actually paraphrase what they feint at paraphrasing. With the accompaniment hidden (except for a brief instrumental cue during the long rest leading back to the refrain), it's also not very helpful unless you've splashed out big bucks on the accompaniment edition. I'd call it more of a solo or a rehearsed-ensemble number than a congregational hymn. 3 tacks.

1098 is "Who is like our God," anonymous words and music, in Spanish and English (translated by Scheer) and supposedly based on Exodus 15. If by that, the credit line means the Song of Moses, it's a pretty skimpy paraphrase, though you can find the raw material for most of its lyrics there. Nevertheless, it devotes a line to dancing and tambourines, which is stage business between the songs of Moses and Miriam. And where is the pronunciation guide when we need one to explain how to sing "Jeho-" as one syllable? For gratuitous Spanishness and omitting the accompaniment, 2 tacks.

1099 is "Kneeling in the dust to form us" by Bringle, set to Thomas Pavlechko's (b. 1962) tune TURNBULL. It's an organist's hymn, vibrating with metaphorical references to the instrument, though I think some theological discussion is needed regarding st. 1's claim that as God breathes the Spirit into man, "we become God's living vessels." Is that in Eden, in word and sacrament, or what? Bringle depicts us as a pneumatic instrument being played by the Spirit, "sounding chambers for the Word" (st. 2), albeit with references to "fret and string" and "tempered bells" to keep it lively. It's all right as devotional poems go, but I think this one will toot right over the heads of laypeople. 1 tack.

1100 is "O beauty ever ancient" by Shirley Erena Murray (†2020), set to Alfred V. Fedak's (b. 1953) tune ANCIENT BEAUTY. Besides the word beauty, this hymn also addresses its addressee as "divine and Holy Presence" and also mentions the "beauty of the Spirit," each of its four stanzas culminating in the refrain, "In gratitude, in worship, my being sings to you." It's nice that Murray locates beauty in so many aspects of creation, but the way she identifies that beauty with God may also be a topic for doctrinal discussion. Beauty in darkness and light; beauty in movement and stillness, "in lovely form of face" – it's almost as if Murray is choosing her own means of grace and bypassing ones that God established. Am I out to lunch? I ought to be by now. 2 tacks (including one for omitting the accompaniment).

So, we're finally done with that book. That Book. Put a fork in it. Put a stake through it. Put another 31 tacks in it, making the grand total 412 tacks in just 200 hymns. And that, fellow sufferers, is a tackiness rate of 206 percent. Hey! It actually came down a point from its rolling peak at the end of Installment 120. Great job! Of course, you know what this means. It means that if you're into tackiness on holy ground, this is the book for you, with enough tackiness to saturate a book twice its length.

I said, way back, that there was maybe one hymn in this entire book that I wouldn't pitch out and gladly. That was a slight exaggeration. I actually liked a few of the hymns in this book. But after examining it in minute detail, my general impression of All Creation Sings is that it's not a product of people who understand or care what Lutheranism is or what hymns are; far less should they be selecting hymns for Lutheran worship. There are even a number of songs in this book that I wouldn't even call Christian. Let my convictions, knowledge and experience as a trained theologian, musician, and lifelong student, conoisseur and writer of hymns (words and music) count for whatever they may, heed my warning. Stick this book in your church's pews at your own risk.

Monday, February 19, 2024

Tacky Hymns 120

Once more (at least) unto our review of the hymnal supplement All Creation Sings, resuming with the "Prayer" section ...

1073 is "Kyrie eleison," a.k.a. Haitian Kyrie, words and music from Haitian tradition as adapted and arranged by Andrew Donaldson (b. 1951). I don't know if it's a French thing or a Caribbean thing, but the "-rie" of "Kyrie" and the "-lei-" of "eleison" both seem to be treated as a single syllable, which might throw off some folks who are accustomed to the standard singers' diction for the liturgical Greek. The non-Greek lyrics are all in French, with a translation and a pronunciation guide reserved for the tiny, eye-straining footnote. Unless you're already francophone, putting the French lyrics together with the Caribbean rhythms might be quite a trick. This isn't a hymnal for a French-speaking church, you know. And also, it's supposed to be a pew book for the congregation, not a collection of choir pieces. For these fumbles, 2 tacks.

1074 is "Óyenos, Señor," words and music by Bob Hurd (b. 1950), "alt." – which is amazing, since there is so little of it to alt. It's four brief phrases of melody (on two staves at the bottom of a page), accompaniment omitted. Three of the phrases say the above text, which (the squint-worthy footnote informs us) means "Hear us, O Lord." If eye-strain permits, you may also pick up an alternate version of the text from the same footnote, as well as a pronunciation guide. The remaining phrase says, in English, "Listen to your people." Have I mentioned once or twice that this isn't a hymnal for a Spanish-speaking church? And have I mentioned what a hymn is, and what it's good for, and how little the purpose of a hymn is served by a little flake of a thing like this? For uselessness on so many levels, 3 tacks.

1075 is "O God, we call," words and music by Linnes Good (b. 1962). It's a single-stanza in five phrases, four of them quite short. The first two are the same; the remaining three gradually amount to "from deep inside we yearn for you"; and that's it. The accompaniment is included, for a treat; the harmony is unusual, with a warm, touching type of dissonance running throughout it before resolving to bare octaves on the final word, "you." I hate to say it, though: even at its brief length, it starts to get monotonous before the end. And that's before either repeating it to the point of self-hypnosis or, failing to do so, wondering why we used a slot programmed for a hymn on such a tiny chip of a thing. 1 tack.

1076 is "Search me, O God," words and music by I-to Loh (b. 1936) based on Psalm 139:23-24. It's four phrases of lyrics and melody, accompaniment omitted, like a refrain in search of a chant setting of the rest of the Psalm. If the intention is that it be used that way, the makers of this book show a certain lack of initiative in not laying out the rest of the Psalm accordingly. As it is, it belongs more in the liturgical part of the book and its usefulness in that hymn-slot that I keep describing is rather dubious. 2 tacks.

1077 is "Mercy, we abide in you," words and music by Bret Hesla (b. 1957). It's another unusual number, with a refrain for "all," then three stanzas of solo melody for "Leader" accompanied by four-part singing by the "Assembly." Which amounts mostly to humming and repetitions of "Stir in us, we pray." The Leader's three stanzas are a compressed litany, though for all its compression, it gets off to a slow start, leading off with three slightly varied ways of saying "In peace let us pray to the Lord." And the concluding line, "Move within each heart," hits me as a most unsatisfactory alternative to "Lord, have mercy." But then, we're not addressing the Lord; remember? We're addressing "Mercy." For bizarre and un-asked-for liturgical innovation, 2 tacks.

1078 is "There is a longing in our hearts," words and music by Anne Quigley (b. 1955). It's another litany sort of thing, with a touchy-feely refrain assigned to "All" and four stanzas for "Leader or All," accompaniment omitted. I think the stanzas are fine, but the refrain bugs me. It just doesn't rise to the same level of (cough) inspiration. Also, don't try to fool me; this is liturgy, not hymnody. I'd excuse it if the hymn section was over and this was set off as a separate section of service music, but it ain't. 3 tacks.

1079 is "Open my heart," words and music by Ann Hernández (b. 1957) – my goodness, what a prevalence of Baby Boomers one can observe in this book's hymn credits! Scored in three-part harmony a capella (on three staves, emphatically marked "Part I," "Part II" and "Part III"), to start with the music, it's an awkward bit of part-writing because the middle part is often higher than the melody. It's definitely not a round, however; Parts 2 and 3 are totally harmony parts, not countermelodies, and besides, Part III is notated in bass clef. I'd have described it as an SAB choir piece, but it's unclear which part is S and which is A. Also, you could almost save two phrases (and hence a whole system of music) by putting a repeat sign after the first two, except the B line (Part III) keeps going while Parts I and II repeat the same two phrases note-for-note. I hate to pick apart such a tiny little pencil-shaving of a piece, but I've got to comment on something and the lyrics, which entirely comprise four repetitions of "Open my heart," don't require analysis. It would be nice to see the author explore more deeply the Person we are asking to open our heart, if any, and what we want Him to open our heart to. But then this piece would be in danger of becoming a hymn. 4 tacks.

Going onto the "Trust, Confidence" section, 1080 is "Total Praise" (first line: "Lord, I will lift mine eyes to the hills"), words and music by Richard Smallwood (b. 1948) with a assist from arranger Stephen F. Key (n.d.). It's totally a contemporary worship jingle, despite its deceptively chorale-like opening phrases. It initially promises to be a paraphrase of Psalm 121, but almost immediately gives up on fulfilling that promise and just becomes your standard praise song, with a repeat sign to make it feel like there's a second stanza and a long coda with more Amens than you can shake a stick at. The keyboard setting is self-evidently piano music, not organ, and after that fake-out chorale texture at the beginning, it commits heavily to pop music stylings that will demand the services of a miked soloist or a well-rehearsed ensemble, except in the (I think) still rare instance where a congregation is so well-drilled in this style of music that they can sing the pants off of it. Get real. It's not a congregational hymn. 4 tacks.

1081 is "When memory fades" by Mary Louise Bringle (b. 1953), set to the tune HEGER by Jayne Southwick Cool (b. 1947). My sight-reading and -singing tells me it's a lovely tune. It's a hymn around the topics of dementia, the physical infirmity that comes with aging, and the end of life. I'd say it was a blameless hymn, except the last half of stanza 3 leans so much into the good works of the people for whom we pray that, I feel, it loses its grip on the gifts that Christ brings to the aged and those who care for them. It's like a funeral sermon that's all eulogy and no gospel. And sadly, that sours it for me. 2 tacks.

1082 is "O God, you search me," words and music by Bernadette Farrell (b. 1957). It's a paraphrase of Psalm 139. I think it has a pretty good thing going, particularly the line "With love everlasting you besiege me." Because the accompaniment is omitted, 1 tack.

1083 is "Be still and know," a setting of Psalm 46:10 by John L. Bell (b. 1949), accompaniment omitted. It has score text and a footnote suggesting that it may be sung as a two-part round. It's a tiny little scrap of a thing that only stands a chance of occupying enough time to replace a hymn on the condition that the round be kept going untl no one can stand it any longer. It isn't, and I'll be blunt, well written. It isn't "just has to be in the pew hymnal" material. 3 tacks.

1084 is "God, be the love to search and keep me," words and music by Richard Bruxwoort Colligan (b. 1967). With five stanzas and a refrain that twice says "O Christ, surround me," it seems to be a version of St. Patrick's Breastplate. It might be easier than singing the more complicated Breastplate version known to (some) users of LW, LBW, LSB and ELW. It even has a nice little Irish lilt to it. But I'm not sure that people who have gone to the trouble of learning that older setting will appreciate Colligan's effort to improve on it. And the accompaniment is omitted, so 1 tack.

I'll bet I can get through the rest of the book next time. Till then, we're taking a break. We've added 28 tacks in these 12 hymns, making a running total of 381 tacks in 184 hymns. Faith and begorrah, that's a tackiness quotient of 207 percent! (Pardon me. A little Irishness caught on my sleeve from that last hymn.)

Panda-monium

Panda-monium
by Stuart Gibbs
Recommended Ages: 12+

In book 4 of the FunJungle series, Teddy Fitzroy isn't supposed to poke his nose into the kidnapping, or rather panda-napping, of the zoo-theme park's newest acquisition. When a panda vanishes out of the back of a truck somewhere between Las Cruces, New Mexico and the west Texas hill country, an international incident breaks out that could ruin the park's founder, J.J. McCracken. But the FBI is on the case – particularly, a certain Agent Molly O'Malley, the sister of Teddy's nemesis, park security guard Marge O'Malley. And a resentful Marge has dirt on J.J.'s daughter Summer, who happens to be Teddy's girlfriend, that she won't hesitate to spill. A little blackmail does wonders to motivate a kid like Teddy, and so he applies his mystery-cracking skills to the panda case despite being warned off by the FBI.

Meanwhile, there's also trouble in the dolphin display, where someone has apparently tampered with the playful creatures' training. Teddy himself becomes the first known example of this when a dolphin pantses him and throws him out of the pool, buck naked. In this case, his help solving the mystery is welcomed. But the two cases get tangled up when a bad guy wearing a panda costume threatens Teddy with a gun in the dolphin enclosure. Things get even more chilling when the same guy tosses Teddy to the polar bears, which is even scarier than having a tiger on the loose. But with incompetent Marge pressuring him from one side, and a brusque Molly ignoring his theories on the other, it will once again be up to Teddy to prove whodunit and restore the missing panda to where she belongs.

Like the three installments before this, this is a middle school-friendly thriller with plenty of laughs, thrills, and the type of learning that goes down easily. Readers will pick up fascinating tidbits of panda knowledge, as well as a few insights about pandas, polar bears and other creatures, all amid the zany setting of a theme park and zoo where something outrageous seems ready to happen on no notice whatsoever. For instance, get a load of what happens when Marge is at the wheel of a golf cart in a high speed chase through landscaping features, vendor booths and an animal-themed parade.

Further installments in this series are Lion Down, Tyrannosaurus Wrecks, Bear Bottom and Whale Done. Stuart Gibbs is also the author of the time-traveling Last Musketeer trilogy, 11 Spy School books, the Moon Base Alpha trilogy, four Charlie Thorne adventures, and four Once Upon a Tim books.