Books by Dale Harris

Books by Dale Harris
A Feast of Epiphanies

Though I Walk, A Novel

Daytime Moons and Other Celestial Anomalies, a book of poems

Second Wind

Second Wind
An album of songs both old and new. Recorded in 2021, a year of major transition for me, these songs explore the many vicissitudes of the spiritual life,. It's about the mountaintop moments and the Holy Saturday sunrises, the doors He opens that no one can close, and those doors He's closed that will never open again. You can click the image above to give it a listen.

The Song Became a Child

The Song Became a Child
A collection of Christmas songs I wrote and recorded during the early days of the pandemic lockdown in the spring of 2020. Click the image to listen.

There's a Trick of the Light I'm Learning to Do

This is a collection of songs I wrote and recorded in January - March, 2020 while on sabbatical from ministry. They each deal with a different aspect or expression of the Gospel. Click on the image above to listen.

Three Hands Clapping

This is my latest recording project (released May 27, 2019). It is a double album of 22 songs, which very roughly track the story of my life... a sort of musical autobiography, so to speak. Click the album image to listen.

Ghost Notes

Ghost Notes
A collections of original songs I wrote in 2015, and recorded with the FreeWay Musical Collective. Click the album image to listen.

inversions

Recorded in 2014, these songs are sort of a chronicle of my journey through a pastoral burn-out last winter. They deal with themes of mental-health, spiritual burn-out and depression, but also with the inexorable presence of God in the midst of darkness. Click the album art to download.

soundings

soundings
click image to download
"soundings" is a collection of songs I recorded in September/October of 2013. Dealing with themes of hope, ache, trust and spiritual loss, the songs on this album express various facets of my journey with God.

bridges

bridges
Click to download.
"Bridges" is a collection of original songs I wrote in the summer of 2011, during a soul-searching trip I took out to Alberta; a sort of long twilight in the dark night of the soul. I share it here in hopes these musical reflections on my own spiritual journey might be an encouragement to others: the sun does rise, blood-red but beautiful.

echoes

echoes
Prayers, poems and songs (2005-2009). Click to download
"echoes" is a collection of songs I wrote during my time studying at Briercrest Seminary (2004-2009). It's called "echoes" partly because these songs are "echoes" of times spent with God from my songwriting past, but also because there are musical "echoes" of hymns, songs or poems sprinkled throughout the album. Listen closely and you'll hear them.

Accidentals

This collection of mostly blues/rock/folk inspired songs was recorded in the spring and summer of 2015. I call it "accidentals" because all of the songs on this project were tunes I have had kicking around in my notebooks for many years but had never found a "home" for on previous albums. You can click the image to download the whole album.

How Long, a devotional thought

The other day I was talking to a friend about some struggles she’s been going through lately, and as we were talking, this line from Psalm 13 came to mind for me. It’s more a phrase, than a line, actually; or maybe better yet, a question.

It is, incidentally, the fundamental question that the authors of the Bible asked, whenever they came into contact with the brokenness of this world—the evil, the suffering, the trials, and the tribulations that seems so regularly to beset the people of God.

The question is: How long?

In Psalm 94 it says it like this: “How long, O Lord, will the wicked be allowed to gloat? How long will you hide your face from me?”

In Psalm 35 it says it like this: “How long, O Lord, will you look on [as the wicked gnash their teeth at me]; how long till you rescue my soul from their ravages?”

And In Revelation, the martyred saints, slain for their witness to Jesus, cry out to God from beneath the heavenly alter, saying, “How long, O Lord, holy and true, until You avenge our blood and judge those who dwell on the earth?”

In Psalm 13, the one that came to mind as my friend and I were chatting, it says it four times in a row:
How long, O Lord, will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face form me?
How long must I take counsel in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
As an answer to the problem of pain, this question may feel profoundly unsatisfying to modern-day Christians like us, who have grown up in a technocratic culture with a decidedly litigious bent to it. In a world like ours, where problems have causes and effects, legal liabilities, and technological solutions, we don’t intuitively ask “how long?” when we encounter pain or suffering.

Instead, our default questions are “who?” (who is responsible?), “why?” (why did it happen?), and “how?” (how do we fix it?)

The question “how long” is entirely off the radar for us, because it presupposes that the solution to the problem of pain, whatever yours or my particular encounter with pain may be, is not within our control. Short term solutions, of course, are well within our control; and so were they in Bible times. We can salve, balm, soothe, and medicate our pain. We can legislate against it. We can optimize our responses to it. 

But the the deeper problem—that bend in the very warp and woof of creation that we intuitively know to be wrong, but can’t explain or resolve hard as we try—the solution to that very real pain is always frustratingly beyond our grasp.

This is why the Bible’s response to suffering is so disarmingly unexpected, on the one hand, but poignantly wise, on the other. Because the default posture of the biblical authors, when confronted with the suffering that is beyond us, was to cry out to the Lord with ache and urgency: how long, O Lord, till you fix this!

This is an utterly unsantized cry, by the way.  Most of the Psalms that ask “how long” like this are aching songs of lament, because the question “how long” does not minimize or deny the ache; if anything it expresses it in all its rawness. To ask God, how long till this ends, is to confess, in the very same breath, how desperately we long for it to end.

I think the modern world, politically conflicted and economically imbalanced and environmentally devastated and covid-harried as it is, would do well to develop a “biblical reflex” when it comes to our response to evil, and start asked “how long?” more consistently when we brush up against the brokenness of this world.

It doesn’t need to stop there, mind you. There still comes a time when it is altogether appropriate to ask “who is responsible?” and “how can fix what’s been broken?” Those questions must follow the “how long?” question though, rather than preempting it, or preventing it from being asked at all.

I say this because when we ask “how long?” what we’re really doing is confessing our deep down belief that God still is at work in the world, our belief that he has promised in the end to fix the hurt of this world in Jesus Christ, and that we are taking him at his word on the matter. To ask “how long,’ is to remind ourselves that in the end, the only thing that will truly and fully heal this hurting world, is His divine acting on our behalf. Human ingenuity and creativity, however much it can accomplish, cannot accomplish a lasting fix to the hurt of this world, on its own.

But thanks be to God that in the offer of New Creation he extends to us in Jesus Christ, God has promised to do for us what all our scientific know-how, and bureaucratic policies, and psychological methods, and social engineering combined could never do without him, and wipe every tear from every eye, while the leaves of his heavenly tree sprout for the healing of the nations.

Ours is first and foremost to long for that day, heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to cry out “how long?” as we wait for Him to do it.  

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