Christ is King (Psalm 2)

More Christian sea shanties, please!

In the vein of Brian Sauvé’s “The Voyage of St. Brendan,” or Christ Church’s “To the Word” shanties (here and here), or maybe even (though it’s not a sea shanty) Sacred Harp’s “Glory Hallelujah,” here’s my version of Psalm 2, set to the tune of “Wellerman.”

I don’t have a musical bone in my body, though, so if anyone wants to record the song, please do!

If you want to hear it as you read or sing along, here’s an excellent version of “Wellerman”:

Christ is King (Psalm 2)

Wellerman

The kings of the earth have set themselves
And rulers join in dark cartels
Against the Lord they would rebel
They’ve turned from Christ the King (huh)

CHORUS
Why do the nations rage,
And all the peoples plot in vain?
One day, every tongue will praise
And every knee will bow

“Let us burst their bonds,” they say
“And let us cast their cords away”
The lightest yoke they try to break
Denying Christ is King (huh)

[chorus]

He who sits in the heavens laughs
He mocks them as the blowing chaff
He terrifies them in his wrath
By saying “Christ is King” (huh)

[chorus]

I will tell of the decree
“You are my Son,” he said to me
“Today I have begotten thee
In Zion is my King” (huh)

[chorus]

“Ask of me, and I will make
All nations yours alone to take
The ends of the earth you shall retain
And rule them as their King” (huh)

[chorus]

He’ll break them with an iron rod
The winepress of his wrath be trod
He’ll dash them like a broken pot
Rejoice, for Christ is King (huh)

[chorus]

Now, therefore, O kings, be wise
You rulers of the earth, advised
To serve the Lord with fear-filled eyes
Beware, for Christ is King (huh)

[chorus]

Kiss the son, lest he be mad,
His anger’s swift, for your way is bad
In him are grace and refuge had
Rejoice, for Christ is King (huh)

–––––

©2024 Josh Bishop
Free to use, print, record, distribute, or republish with attribution.

An Altar of Remembrance

I wrote this poem to celebrate Becca’s parents’ 50th anniversary, inspired by Joshua 4:1–9, 21–24.


An Altar of Remembrance

By Josh Bishop

for Mike & Kay Barry on January 5, 2024

You placed the first stone when you pledged “I do”
and together ran headlong across the threshold
that makes one life, one flesh, from what was two —
not knowing what the long years since that day would hold.
Not knowing then the countless homes you’d build
on countless, unguessed avenues around the nation,
where in every place you served the church, the ill,
each other through your ministering vocations.
Not knowing then the laughter, tears you’d share,
the daily pains and joys you’d give and bear for each,
shared moments when you’d breathe enchanted air,
those lone and lonely times the dream seemed out of reach.
Not knowing then your daughters’ lovely faces
or, later, how they’d settle husbands, children, homes
to plant and grow your line in far-off places.
And still you laid through all the changing years your stones.
Not knowing then you’d bend to nearly breaking
but choose instead the harder, narrow path of staying,
reknit together stronger through remaking —
and hand-in-hand you’d gather still more stones for laying.
Not knowing that your road would lead you home,
back across the Jordan to the Texas promised land,
where your marriage built of living stones 
as an altar of remembering now stands.

Full fifty stones, now, gathered through the years,
and when your children’s children’s children ask in wonder,
“What do these stones mean?” we’ll say with grateful tears:
These stones before you are a memory forever;
these fifty tell the tale of two made one —
a sermon made of lives God’s mighty hand has blessed.
Look! See here before you what the Lord has done.
Look, and nevermore forget Christ’s faithfulness.

Reformed and Evangelical Clerihews

I.

John Piper,
prepositional griper,
thinks the chief end of man
is best said with “by,” not with “and.”

II.

R.C. Sproul
(God rest soul)
still sounds from the steeple:
“What’s wrong with you people?”

III.

Rob Bell
wrote a book about hell.
His comparably notable feats include
surfing and eating Mexican food.

IV.

John MacArthur
(excuse this lark, sir)
is somehow still a dispy
though he preaches expositionally.

V.

Kevin DeYoung?
His praises are sung
by godly men and women
and his 12-and-counting children.

VI.

Douglas Wilson
[redacted]

(Sorry, y’all — I’ve got a good one here, but it’s not suitable for polite company.)

VII.

Tim Keller’s
New York Times bestsellers
won’t help you stay
off the third — no, fourth! — way.

VIII.

Russell Moore
had a good run before
he caused plenty of heartburn
with a center-left turn.

IX.

Mark Driscoll
scuttled Mars Hill.
They did that one podcast,
but he’s still kind of a badass.

A Liturgy for the Smoking of Fine Tobacco

Sovereign God, we acknowledge that you alone 
are the giver of every good gift
and grantor of all lawful pleasures.

With full conviction that the fittest response to any gift 
is wholehearted delight in both the gift and its Giver, 
     we take pleasure in that which is pleasurable,
     we find joy in that which is enjoyable,
     we delight in that which is delightful.

We give thanks, O Lord, for this, your gift of fine tobacco,
for the rains, sun and soil that bring forth such plants
to gladden the hearts of man.

For the hands that harvested, dried and cured it;
for the farmers and craftsmen and artisans
     who took the raw goods of your creation
     and joined in your creative work to fill the world
     with things new and beautiful and pleasurable;
for the men and women who form the global chain 
     of production and supply that leads to our homes;
for each of these we give you thanks 
     and ask your particular blessing in their lives.

May the flame of this match bring to mind
the consuming fire of your wrath poured out on sinners,
the column of fire by which you led your people out of slavery,
the refiner’s fire in which you purify us,
the tongues of fire at Pentecost
     with which your Spirit rested on your children
     and made your home among us.

As this smoke rises, so too may our prayers rise to you
in thankfulness for your unutterable goodness
     that you would create a world 
     to hold such pleasures as this;
in petition for your continued care and provision;
in praise of your infinite worth,
     your selfless condescension,
     your saving grace.

[TAKE A MOMENT TO OFFER YOUR OWN PRAYERS AND PRAISES]

As this smoke rises, so too may our worship rise,
a sweet-smelling aroma, 
pleasing to you.

[FOR SMOKING ALONE]

     May my solitude bring glory to you.
     Keep my thoughts pure and attentive
     to things commendable and worthy of praise.

     In my reading, may I be edified and enlightened.
     In my meditation, may I be renewed and transformed.
     In my praying, may you be honored above all.

[FOR SMOKING WITH OTHERS]

     May our conversation be marked by love,
     that each of us might benefit the other
     and bring glory to you.

     In our laughter, may we be unbridled.
     In our sorrows, may we lift each other up.
     In our confessions, may we find your forgiveness.

Lord, may the burning of this tobacco 
keep us ever in mind of our own frailty 
and the temporary vapor of our lives,
for we, too, will return to ash
before we rise again to feast
at the wedding banquet of the Lamb.
Let the knowledge of our at-once finite and infinite end
spur us to a life spent in pursuit of Christ,
in the wholehearted worship of you, 
     the thrice-holy and Triune God,
in the love of our neighbor,
and in the joy of your world.

May we smoke, as in all we do, 
to your glory alone, O God,
for the sake of him 
through whom all things were made, 
your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen


©2023 Josh Bishop. Free to use, print, or republish with attribution.

Prospect Park, Early March

by Josh Bishop

The trees in Prospect Park are bare today.
Dead leaves from last year’s fall like dander lay
in flakes along the shoulders of the lawn;
denuded, veiny branches break the sky,
varicose against the shiftless, brooding clouds.
Deserted paths and dust-blown sidewalks yawn
and raise their arms as if to question why
this sapless barrenness, and where the crowds.

Remember when these trees were full and green,
when children’s laughter echoed through the park
with crack of ball and bat — and on the breeze
(with just a hint of chill) a few monarchs
flitted through setting sunbeams in the leaves
as summer daylight slowly slid to dark.

Summer Afternoon

by Josh Bishop

Above our house an ancient maple spreads
its branches wide to shade in shadow all
that falls below: perennials in reds
and blues and, wearing muted greens, a small
but stubborn bed of hostas which we’ve done 
our careless best to kill through sad neglect.
A hum of bees floats lazy in the sun.
Loud squirrels voice their chattered, shrill objections
while the boys play fetch with Chesterton.
And on the table here: John Bunyan’s Grace 
Abounding, Baker Street tobacco in
my pipe, two fresh-poured hazy IPAs —
all gifts our Maker made and gave to fill
the earth with joy. Drink deep. Give thanks. Be still.


This poem was published by The North American Anglican on May 17, 2022. The line capitalization in his version has been updated.

Creed Sign

The Apostles’ Creed, not an apostate screed!

Is your neighborhood filled with signs proclaiming the secular progressive creed? You know the one: “In this house, we believe: Black Lives Matter, Women’s rights are human rights, No human is illegal, Science is real, Love is love, Kindness is everything” — or some similar variation.

Well, we believe in something, too. In this house, we will serve the Lord.

Introducing a We Believe” sign for Christians — not for progressive secular humanists.

Find it at creedsign.com.

The Creed Sign is available as:

  • 3″x4″ stickers ($5)
  • 2″x3″ stickers ($4)
  • Digital download ($5)
    Digital download includes high-res, print-ready files (PDF and .jpg) sized for a yard sign (18″x24″ vertical), postcard (4″x6″), greeting cards (5″x7″), and standard printer paper (8.5″x11″).

The stickers have a limited supply while I wait for the next shipment to arrive. And, unfortunately, pre-printed yard signs are not yet available; I printed mine online at signs.com, but be warned that printing one at a time is expensive.


I made the Creed Sign because the more typical “We Believe” sign expresses a different religious creed, and most of its tenets are incompatible with historical, orthodox Christianity.

The “We Believe” sign is a catechism for progressive secular humanism. There are many people in the church who are genuine apostles for those beliefs, and it makes sense that those people would put the sign in their yard — say, someone who worships at the Unitarian church down the road.

But there are also plenty of orthodox Christians who disagree with progressive secular beliefs (e.g., regarding abortion, gay marriage, transgenderism, scientism, critical race theory, etc.) but who put the sign in their yard anyway; those Christians have been duped into uncritically evangelizing their neighbors with a competing gospel.

Sure, at first glance, and with only a strictly literal reading of the text, there’s nothing especially objectionable to the progressive creed: Black lives really do matter; love is, in fact, love; women’s rights are indeed human rights; etc.

But with a closer reading — and an accurate understanding of the times (1 Chronicles 12:32) — we can see that the secular creed is actually a list of platitudes that either:

  • Mean something other than what they say
    (e.g., “Women’s rights are human rights” really means pro-choice/pro-abortion; “Love is love” really means pro-LGBTQ+; “Black Lives Matter” really means support for Critical Race Theory/Intersectionality/anti-racism)
  • Are things that every reasonable person in the world agrees with
    (“Black Lives Matter,” “Science is Real”)
  • Are responses to strawmen that no one is arguing
    (“Black Lives Matter,” “No Human is Illegal,” “Science is Real”)
  • Are absolutely nonsensical
    (“Love is Love,” “Kindness is Everything”)
  • Or are some combination of the above

In fact, I would go so far as to say that, to the extent that the words mean anything at all, I wholeheartedly disagree with Love is Love (Christians believe that God is love) and Kindness is Everything (Christians believe that kindness is good, but not everything).

Still, we all know that what the sign says and what the sign means are two different things. It’s like those LGBTQ+ rainbow “Safe Space” signs on office doors throughout my workplace — that sign doesn’t actually mean, “This space is safe for LGBTQ+ individuals”; it means “I affirm progressive cultural and political positions related to LGBTQ+ identities.”

Or preferred pronouns in people’s email signatures: I’d never put “he/him/his” in my signature line because that doesn’t actually mean, “My pronouns are he, him, and his” (which is certainly true); instead, it means, “I believe that gender identity is not meaningfully connected to or determined by biological sex” (which is not true).

It’s not that safe space, preferred pronouns, and “We Believe” signs could be true depending on an alternative, literal, Christian-friendly reading of the plain text. No, the bigger problem is that spreading those messages advances a worldview that actively undermines orthodox, biblical Christian teaching.

Too many Christians have been hoodwinked into becoming unwitting apostles for a contrary, competing religion just because it’s the “nice” or popular thing to say. Sticking the “We Believe” sign in your yard is not a neutral act; it actively contributes to the problem.

We’re in the middle of a spiritual, ideological battle against “arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God” (2 Corinthians 10:5). And you don’t win a war by putting the enemy’s propaganda posters in your own front yard. Put a Creed Sign there instead.

Letter to the Editor: Christian Nationalism

This letter to the editor was published by The Holland Sentinel on February 7, 2023.

Christian nationalism a foreseeable consequence of secularism

I read with interest your recent article about Christian nationalism, and I thought I’d offer my perspective on why so many are drawn to some version of the movement: We’re seeing the rise of Christian nationalism because our culture has finally begun reaping the rotten harvest of secularism.

It was much easier to go along with secularism (that is, with a formal commitment to neutrality in the public square) when some vague sort of residual Christian morality still held sway. But now people can see what secularism has actually delivered: We’re chemically sterilizing boys and cutting off the healthy breasts of young women. We’ve killed 60 million unborn babies, and we’re chopping up their bodies to sell the parts for profit. We’ll put your wife and kids in the breadline if you don’t bake the cake or get the jab. We’re teaching our children that men can get pregnant. We’re telling our daughters to applaud when a naked “woman” pendulates his way through their locker room.

In short, the gig is up: Secularism is burning itself down — and good riddance. When you’re tired of the chaos, come to Christ.

Josh Bishop
Holland


A Plea to Recover the Church Calendar

First, the obvious: This post is not intended for my Anglican or Catholic or other high-church friends but for those who, like me, were raised in the low-church or nondenominational world of American evangelicalism, where the faith was once for all delivered to the saints by an orange puppet named Gerbert.

So, to make the title more precise, what follows is a plea to recover the church calendar in evangelical, nondenominational, and other low-church congregations

AN INESCAPABLE CONCEPT

Ordering time is natural, and therefore inescapable. We are time-bound creatures, so the question is not whether we will order our time, but how we will order our time. 

Nature presents the world to us in an orderly way. The world moves according to daily (sunrise, sunset), monthly (cycles of the moon), and annual (seasonal) rhythms. But it’s not just natural in the sense that nature does it; it’s also natural for man to structure his understanding of time in similar rhythms. 

It’s not whether we follow a calendar, then, but which calendar we follow. Hasn’t your year so far been marked by New Year’s Eve, the Super Bowl, and March Madness? Do you follow the Hallmark calendar (Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, etc.)? The academic calendar (Spring Break, Summer Vacation, Back to School)? American holidays like Memorial Day, Independence Day, and Thanksgiving? A newfangled pop culture calendar that includes Mario Day (March 10 = Mar10 or MAR10), Pi Day (March 14 = 3.14), and Star Wars Day (May 4 = May the Fourth)?

In truth, we all pick and choose from these varied calendars, but the central point is that none of us gets to opt out of following a calendar. Remember: It’s not whether, but which

JESUS IS LORD OF TIME

So, if it’s true that we inescapably order time, why would Christians not order it in a manner that commemorates the Lord of time? 

J. Brandon Meeks wrote, “When Jesus died and rose again, he conquered sin and death — but he also conquered the calendar.” And so we recognize Jesus as the King of the Calendar when we structure our year according to the great work he has done in our redemption.

Although the magisterial Reformers jettisoned much of the liturgical calendar, Daniel Hyde pointed out that they “retained what they called the ‘evangelical feast days,’” which are those days that celebrate “the salvation which Christ had already accomplished for them in his Incarnation (Christmas), death (Good Friday), resurrection (Easter), ascending to the Father (Ascension), and giving of his Spirit (Pentecost).”

We see in Exodus 12:2 that the first thing God does when he frees his people from Egypt is to reorder the Israelites’ calendar: ”This month shall be for you the beginning of months. It shall be the first month of the year for you.” God reorders their sense of time, centering it around his redemptive work in the world. It seems appropriate, then, that when Jesus freed us from slavery to sin in the greater Exodus, we should reorder our own calendar, our own sense of time itself, around that historic event. 

This church statement says it well: 

“[W]e gladly encourage the celebration of the historic church calendar as a glorious testimony of the victory and rule of Christ over time. Rightly understood, His life celebrated and remembered in our days and weeks and months is a continuation of the triumph of Christ over the principalities and powers.”

CALENDARS TELL STORIES

“Calendars are not neutral,” wrote Andrew Wilson, “they narrate a particular vision of the world.” In contrast to the narratives told by the tax year, or the academic year, or the seasonal calendar year, “the Church calendar,” Wilson continues, “tells a different story again, one shaped by the gestation, birth, appearing, temptation, death, resurrection, ascension and gifts of the Lord Jesus. If you’re going to use a calendar at all, and most of us are, it might as well be one which holds together around the gospel.”

Matt Chandler picked up on this narrative theme in a video explaining why his church follows the church calendar:

“You and I, we are storied people,” Chandler said. “We live basically out of our gut and out of our heart, and those things are informed by stories.” He points to the consumerism and hedonism prevalent in our culture and says, “These are the stories of our day, and we want to counteract those stories or stand in opposition to those stories by living the story of Jesus.”

WE LIVE OUR CALENDAR’S STORY

Did you notice Chandler’s subtle shift from narrative and storytelling to story-living? It’s one thing to hear the story of Jesus, but it’s another thing altogether when we enter into and rehearse the story ourselves. “We want to experience as embodied souls the story of Jesus,” Chandler said, “and we believe that by doing this, it shapes and molds us as the people of God.”

Back to Andrew Wilson for an extended paragraph on how living the Christian calendar “shapes and molds us”:

The Church calendar does not just say things, it does things. When (as I do) you give something up for Lent, you find yourself pining for the resurrection. When you pray or study your way through Advent, you focus on the return of Christ in a sustained way that might well not happen if you didn’t. When you take Holy Saturday as a day of contemplation and quiet, you feel the silence and confusion and sheer weight of the period between crucifixion and resurrection, and notice the connections between that day and the rest of the Church age. When you baptise people on Easter Sunday, you enact new life at the same time as you celebrate it.

Can you see how the Christian calendar helps you practice — not just hear — the Christian story? We aren’t just told the story; we live it. And as we live it, we are being shaped by it.

A TOOL TO BUILD THE NEW CHRISTENDOM

We are in a battle over time itself, and the enemies of the church know this better than we do.

“Cultural dominance requires two things,” wrote Carl Trueman: “control of time and space.”

If we understand that restructuring a culture’s time is a means of asserting cultural dominance, then we can begin to understand why contemporary battles over the calendar have become so important. That’s why we have Pride Month now; it’s why Columbus Day is disappearing for an ascendant Indigenous Peoples Day. This is why we’ve replaced BC (Before Christ) and AD (Anno Domini, the year of our Lord) with BCE (Before Common Era) and CE (Common Era). These shifts in our calendars are really the pursuit of secular cultural dominance. 

Christians had that cultural dominance once: “Liturgical calendars developed in the fourth century and beyond, as Christianity came to dominate the empire,” Trueman wrote. In this first Christendom, controlling time “was achieved through developing a calendar which gave the rhythm of time a specifically Christian idiom.” 

It follows, then, that if we want to build the New Christendom (and we do), then reclaiming the church calendar is one critical way to do so.

‘NOT HOLY BUT HELPFUL’

None of this is to say that the church calendar should be required, only that it is, in the words of Daniel Hyde, “not holy but helpful.” 

There are more reasons than those above that the church calendar is helpful, including:

  • It is a reminder of the historical nature of our faith — the Christian claims happened at particular times in history
  • It unites us to the universal, catholic church through shared practices
  • It demonstrates a respect for Christian tradition
  • It provides a structure for disciplined times of feasting and fasting

Hopefully, some of you have been convinced by my plea — my invitation — to step into the benefits of ordering your time according to the Christian story. I’m not trying to implement a mandate here. But whether you’re convinced or not, either way, remember to extend grace to those who decide otherwise:

“One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind” (Romans 14:5).

WHAT THIS RECOVERY MIGHT LOOK LIKE

A  few quick, closing thoughts:

Recovery in the Church

Again, remember that the question isn’t whether your church follows a calendar, but which calendar it follows. In many (most?) parts of evangelicalism, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Super Bowl Sunday, and Spring Break are more likely to get a mention from the pulpit or programming than are Epiphany, Pentecost, Trinity Sunday, or Ascension Sunday.

As a baseline, I’d like to see every single church reclaim and celebrate the five evangelical feast days of Christmas, Good Friday, Easter, Ascension, and Pentecost. Almost every church already celebrates Christmas and Easter, and many or most mark Good Friday, so we really only need to do the heavy lifting on Ascension and Pentecost.

The other days surrounding this can be practiced according to conscience or tradition, including Advent, Ash Wednesday, and Lent (not to mention the numerous other days of feasting, fasting, and commemoration in various liturgical calendars).

Recovery in Your Personal Life

If you’re personally convinced of the benefits of the church calendar, you can mark the days yourself, even if your church doesn’t. Simply find a church calendar (I use and recommend the Anglican one) and begin paying attention to it.

A lot of this will be unfamiliar at first. Start small — stick with the big ones, like the five evangelical feasts or some of the others (Ash Wednesday, Maundy Thursday, Christ the King). Don’t worry about what Whitsunday means or which days are Days of Rogation or whether to fast on Ember Days. Start with the basics and add as you go.

You can also work to structure your life according to seasons of feasting and fasting — whether you do this with or without the church calendar, these disciplines are both biblical and good for you.

A quick note on saints’ days or feast days:

I used to be uncomfortable with saints’ days, but the truth is, I already commemorate people all the time. My personal calendar is full of birthday reminders for my friends and family members, and as I grow older, it’s beginning to fill with days remembering my friends’ and family members’ deaths. For a long time, I’ve noted the births and deaths of authors or public figures I’d like to remember (e.g., C.S. Lewis, Jonathan Edwards, John Bunyan, P.G. Wodehouse). I even mark the birthdays of some fictional characters. 

Fictional characters notwithstanding, it is normal and human and good to remember these things — so we should do so. And if we’re going to commemorate our friends and family, why would we not also commemorate our fathers and mothers in the faith? One helpful tool for me has been Our Church Speaks.

Recovery in the Culture

As I said earlier, one reason we lost the culture is that we lost the calendar. And one way to win the culture back is to reclaim the calendar — which is to say, reclaim time itself — in the name of Jesus. But we can’t give the world something we don’t have. Start in the church and your own life, then look to the culture.

We can look for ways to re-Christianize the major cultural holidays that come from the church: Christmas, Halloween, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day. But we can also begin to publicly celebrate the rest of the church calendar as a means of reasserting a peculiarly Christian culture. 

Think of the way that restaurants in certain regions still have Fish Fry Fridays during Lent, or whose businesses still close on Sundays — this thoroughly secular sphere has responded to the cultural demands of Christians who follow the church calendar. We want more of this, and we want it on many more church holidays. Our goal here should be to aim for a critical mass of Christians, such that the culture notices and begins to change in response.

See there the slaughtered Lamb

“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” (Revelation 5:12)

See there the slaughtered Lamb
who sits upon his throne.
The King of nations, slain,
has come into his own.

Bend every knee before
the slaughtered Lamb, our God.
Sing every tongue and more
in praise of Jesus’ blood.

The body of the Christ,
once dead, now glorified,
still bears his wounds and scars
who once was crucified.

Where streams of blood once flowed
now living waters run,
from once the death-dark tomb
now shines the risen Son.

His blood has bought our lives.
Sing hallelujah! Sing!
Behold the Lamb of God,
our resurrected King.

All praise the risen Lord!
All praise the slaughtered Lamb!
All praise the suff’ring Christ,
The crucified I Am!

© 2019 Josh Bishop