The Sunday before the Inauguration I cheekily proposed to my pastor and our deacon that we should sing “From Greenland’s Icy Mountains” for our morning congregational hymn in honor of Trump’s then-upcoming Inauguration. I had practiced the piece a bit Saturday evening, but with a pretty gnarly bout of sinus drainage, I found the high notes hard to hit.
Instead of singing the piece—a very old missionary tune by composer Lowell Mason, with words by Reginald Heber—either on my own or in church, I played it a few times as a bit of instrumental prelude music.
The melody for the piece is interesting, with a few suspensions and some unusual timing, like the long half-note pickup at the beginning and midway through the piece.
2024 was one helluva year. In some ways, it felt like three years in one, at least for me.
The first half of the year was a joyless grind. The next quarter was a blend of summertime boredom and renewed purpose as the school year dawned. The final quarter has been incredibly exciting and uplifting.
What a difference a few months make! October and especially November felt like major turning points for the world, the United States, and even yours portly individually.
I’ve been thanking God for His many Blessings. I though it would be appropriate, then, to glance back at the year that is nearly expired, and to celebrate what He Has Done.
Good old Ponty is always bailing me out when I need it most. Actually, I now have ample time to loaf about and enjoy the fun of Christmas Break, but that’s precisely the time I don’t want to be dreaming up films to review.
Cue Pontifex Maximus with a chestnut roasting over an open fire. That chestnut is a faith-based film based on a story by Max Lucado that is, apparently, good. Finally, Christians are making some good art!
It sounds like a lovely film, and a good antidote to the endless array of cookie-cutter Hallmark films out there.
Pickup my newest release: Leftovers III! Use promo code ziggurat to take an additional 20% off all purchases on Bandcamp! Code expires at 11:59 PM UTC on Tuesday, 31 December 2024.
My students’ Christmas concert is coming on Friday, 13 December 2024, and we’re playing “O Little Town of Bethlehem” this year a la Frank Sinatra. We’re starting in what I call the “Christmas-Eve-candlelight-service-at-your-grandmother’s-unheated-church” style, then shifting to a groovy swing.
I was thinking about the harrowing, last-minute nature of this song’s genesis while wrapping up Leftovers III, which I was getting done at the wire. Somehow, October got so busy that I let a lot of my composing fall by the wayside, but I managed to wrap up the album in time to release it on Black Friday.
The next week will be similarly busy. Tomorrow night is the school Christmas play, for which yours portly will be running sound. Saturday I’ll be playing Christmas music for a local festival. Sunday I’m rehearsing with my church for our Christmas cantata on the 22nd. Monday is Council Meeting—and on and on and on.
Let’s all take a moment to remember the subject of this beautiful carol, and to reflect on the wonder of Christ’s Birth.
It is rare for a modern film to catch and hold my rapt attention for 97 minutes, especially when I’m driving. But amid my various Thanksgiving travels, I “watched” the 2023 film Nefarious. Thank goodness it’s mostly dialogue, or I would have had a very difficult time of it.
The film is an adaptation of the Steve Deace novel A Nefarious Plot (Amazon Affiliate link; I get a portion of any sales made through that link, at no additional cost to you). Steve Deace is a conservative writer and commentator, and Glenn Beck makes an appearance in the film, so that gives you a sense for the general messaging of the movie.
That said, while Nefarious is a Christian horror movie—which, I would argue, most horror involving the demonic is fundamentally Christian in some way—it is genuinely entertaining, and does not feel like heavy-handed propaganda. Instead, it is an incredibly effective portrayal of the sheer wickedness of demons, and how Satan delights in our sin.
Yours portly is still playing catch-up this Friday, so I’m really phoning it in. I’m actually writing this hasty post mere minutes before my usual 6:30 AM EST posting deadline, so I’ll doubtless be a tad late with this post.
There isn’t one particular reason why I’ve fallen behind a bit on posting (and several other things!). Life is good and my schedule at work is very manageable. It’s mostly a situation of having several things to get done at once, combined with some long days of lessons and errands.
But I am very blessed. Wednesday evening I was out running some errands—I needed to pick up ingredients for a taco dip I bring to parties, as the teachers had a “Friendsgiving” potluck meal yesterday—and my car battery died in the Taco Bell parking lot (that wasn’t for Friendsgiving; that was for me).
The dust has settled and Halloween 2024 is in the books. Now we’ve arrived at the holiday that Halloween—All Hallows’ Eve—is actually about: All Saints’ Day.
Growing up Pentecostal, we did not really celebrate or observe these major feast days (frankly, I’m surprised we celebrated Halloween growing up, but I think that’s because of my Stephen King-loving mother). We missed out on a great deal of the beauty of the high church liturgical calendar as a result.
All Saints’ Day and its close companion, All Souls’ Day (observed on 2 November) are two beautiful solemnities worth observing for all Christians. While I believe that all saved Christians count among God’s “saints,” and I don’t think the Roman Catholic Church holds a monopoly on canonization (or that canonization is even a legitimate spiritual designation), I do appreciate the celebration of the lives of the saints. They were inspiring Christians, often because they were such fallen sinners themselves before receiving Christ’s Grace.
I do believe they performed miracles through the power of the Holy Spirit. I believe such miracles are still possible. Sure, there’s probably some literary license taken with some of the saints, but I can’t deny the possibility of miracles; Scripture is full of them!
As a doughy American Evangelical Protestant I realize I am out of my depth here among the Anglicans and Catholics that read this blog, but I hope it is clear that I appreciate the richness of your traditions. All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days are worthy of celebration; all Christians should honor these days with prayer and feasting.
Maybe it’s the feasting that I like. Let’s see how I do with the days that call for prayer and fasting. Gulp!
One final coda: my recent release, Spooky Season III, ends with a piece called “Eleventh Hour and All Saints’ Day“; it’s two pieces in one. The hymn-like chorale “All Saints’ Day” kicks in around 4:30:
I wanted to capture the transition from the quiet solitude of a post-trick-or-treating Halloween night into the glorious morning of All Saints’ Day. I hope this humble piece did the trick.
Spooky Season III is out now on all streaming platforms (includingSpotify)! Pick up the digital download at Bandcamp, and take 20% off any Bandcamp purchase with this promo code: spooky (code expires at 11:59 PM UTC on Thursday, 31 October 2024).
The spooky season keeps on rollin’! Hopefully by the time you read this post yours portly will have completed some Halloween decorating, and maybe even some pumpkin carving. Fun!
Yours portly has a rather toothsome edition of Phone it in Friday/YouTube Roundup for you today. No Murphy vids, sadly (but don’t worry—the old girl is doing well and will be back in more videos soon), but we’ll ease into Friday with a beautiful hymn and a bit of bachelor cuisine.
The Portly Politico 