Saturday, October 1, 2011

Caedmon's call...

I got an email recently about Caedmon's call. It made me curious about the musical group & how they got their name. Legend has it there was a cow herder named Caedmon that lived in the 7th centruy that was afraid to sing in public because of his perceived lack of talent. One night, an angel appeared to him & called him to sing. He refused at first, but when he finally did, he sang beautifully, & verses that had never been heard before. God uses us in ways we never think are possible:)  Here was the story written about Caedmon...

Caedmon’s call to become a voice for those who have no voice.
I cannot speak,
Unless You loose my tongue;
I only stammer,
And I speak uncertainly;
But if You touch my mouth,
my Lord,
then I will sing the story
of Your wonders!

Teach me to hear that story,
Through each person,
To cradle a sense of wonder
In their life,
To honour the hard-earned wisdom
Of their sufferings,
To waken their joy
That the King of all kings
Stoops down
To wash their feet,
And looking up into their face
‘I know—I understand.’

This world has become
A world of broken dreams
Where dreamers are hard to find
and friends are few.

Lord, be the gatherer of our dreams.
You set the countless stars in place,
And found room for each of them to shine.
You listen of us in Your heaven-bright hall.
Open our mouths to tell our tales of wonder.

Teach us again the greatest story ever:
The One who made the worlds
became a little, helpless child,
Then grew to be a carpenter
With deep, far-seeing eyes.

In time, the Carpenter began to travel,
In every village challenging the people
To leave behind their selfish ways,
Be washed in living water,
And let God be their King.

The ordinary people crowded round Him,
Frightened to miss
A word that He was speaking,
Bringing their friends, their children,
All the sick and tired,
So everyone could meet Him,
Everyone be touched and given life.

Some religious people were embarrassed
--they did not like the company He kept,
And never knew just what He would do next.

He said:
‘How dare you wrap God up
In good behavior,
And tell the poor that they
Should be like you?
How can you live at ease
With riches and success,
While those I love go hungry
And are oppressed?
It really is for such a time as this
That I was given breath.’

His words were dangerous,
Not save or tidy.

In secret His opponents said:
‘It surely would be better that
One person die.’

‘I think that would be better,
If he could.’
Expediency would be the very death of Him.
He died because they thought it might be good.

You died that we might be forgiven,
Lord; but that was not the end.
You plundered death,
And made its jail-house shudder
--strode to life
To meet Your startled friends.

I have a dream
That all the world will meet You,
And know you, Jesus,
In Your living power,
That someday soon
All people everywhere will hear Your story,
And hear it in a way they understand.

So many who have heard
Forget to tell the story.

Here am I, my Jesus:
Teach me.”

(Celtic Daily Prayer, New York: Harper-Collins. 2002. Pp 198-201.)

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