Worship Blooms in Truth and Love and Awe

SJHN Divine Worship

I. The Wound

The altar groans beneath a fractured rite,

When hands forget the holiness they hold;

For once the sacred slips from earnest sight,

Its fire grows thin, its embers faint and cold.

The Church stands bruised when reverence is lost,

And Christ is met with casual, hurried breath;

Such wounds, though quiet, carry weight and cost,

For they unteach the way that leads from death.

II. Identity Unmade

The Church forgets the grammar of her grace

When gestures stray from what the Fathers knew;

Her ancient voice grows strange within this place,

And borrowed forms obscure what once rang true.

For liturgy is language of the Bride,

The shape of love made visible and clear;

When this is blurred, her heart is pushed aside,

And mission falters where it should draw near.

III. The Mission Dimmed

A people formed by rites malformed will fade,

Uncertain of the gift they bear within;

For worship teaches how the world is made,

And how the Cross unmakes the power of sin.

If rites grow thin, the faithful lose their sight,

And stand unsure of who they are in Christ;

The lamp once set to blaze with holy light

Burns low, as though its flame were sacrificed.

IV. The Call to Return

Yet still the Spirit broods above the deep,

And summons hearts to turn, remember, rise;

He guards the fire entrusted to our keep,

And stirs the Church to lift her weary eyes.

For when the Bride restores her ancient song,

And lets the liturgy be whole again,

The weak grow strong, the wandering find they belong,

And Christ is known in every rite of men.

V. The Hope

So let us tend the mysteries with care,

And hold the sacred as the saints once did;

For in the Mass, the Lord Himself is there,

Not veiled by novelty, nor beauty hid.

Where worship blooms in truth and love and awe,

The Church becomes herself—her mission sure;

And hearts are shaped again by what they saw,

A glimpse of heaven meant to make us pure.

26AUGUST2026