Built on Hope
building theology in song (hint: women have been doing it for years. Do you know Jesus loves me from the Scripture? or because Anna Bartlett wrote the song?)
Built on Hope
I thought I’d do something a little different this month.
This is more of an internal dialogue than a story from the road, or the tale of a song.
Lately, I’ve heard so many people talk about how they grew up with a certain belief system — in their church, or in their families — that eventually became unhelpful as they tried to live their own lives. So they went through the often painful process of deconstructing what they learned, and reconstructing with new perspective and new tools.
I feel a lot of compassion for my friends who are doing that work.
But I never quite felt like I had to.
My faith so often starts and ends with something simple: Jesus loves me. And other things flow from there.
This is a song I wrote for a Metropolitan Community Church conference. I was trying hard to write a true singalong. The person helping me said that either the music or the lyrics — or both — should be repetitive, so people can catch on and join in quickly.
As usual, I had soooo much I wanted to say.
Keeping the number of lyrics down is not my forte.
(Ha. Please tell me someone saw what I just did there. 😊)
When Justin and I sing this one, we try to get people to jump in on the chorus.
I’ve talked about this kind of songwriting before. Many times, when I’m asked to write on a certain topic and include certain ideas, I find that it stretches me.
I started to say it stretches my theology — but that’s not quite right.
It stretches my understanding of all God does, and all God hopes for us to get right.
Most of you would probably call my background “conservative.” That means different things to different people, but what I still want most is for people to know Jesus — and His love for them.
I used to say, “get saved.”
But then I realized that many people heard that as: Believe the right thing, or God will burn you in hell.
I meant nothing of the sort.
When I got “saved,” it felt like I didn’t have to be hopeless anymore. I didn’t have to believe that those who had power over me — and misused it — had the final authority over my life or my heart.
It meant I was free to choose love and forgiveness, because love and forgiveness had been freely offered to me.
So this was one of those songs I had to stretch into.
Yes, we are a family of faith, following Jesus.
But Jesus didn’t only lead people into belief. He wasn’t John the Baptist (weird but fascinating guy) eating grasshoppers and telling everyone to repent.
Jesus offered new life.
He healed the sick and fed the hungry. He gave us a model for that — which we (hopefully) still try to follow today.
But He also confronted injustice.
Physically, at least once.
And honestly… He also had a bit of sarcasm.
(I started to say “wicked sarcasm,” but thought better of it. See how one must work one’s words for the right situation? Ha!)
“Are you the King of the Jews?”
“Well… that’s what you’re saying.”
And then Pilate puts it on the sign above the cross — the one you rarely see in paintings — written in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek:
This is the King of the Jews.
That was courage, on the part of Jesus, who clearly saw what was coming.
So how do we live with that kind of courage?
That’s what I wanted to reach in this song.
In the verses, I stretched from a more “conservative” language of following Jesus with faith and fervor. It’s an old-fashioned word, but for me, it fit.
I wanted us to sing about hope — hope in the work of God in our own lives, and in the lives of others — and to remember that we have been given a mission.
And finally, I wanted to name the tension we often feel between faith and action.
Yes — I believe we are “saved,” as I described earlier, by faith.
“Not by works, so that no one can boast.” (Ephesians 2:8–9)
But I also think many Christians feel comfortable stopping right there.
Because the very next line says we are created in Christ Jesus to do good works.
Jesus didn’t say people would recognize His followers because they believed all the right things.
He said they would know us by our love. (John 13:35)
So I wanted to land hard there:
You will find our faith in our works.
OK… this was more songwriting 101 — or maybe:
“How Marsha did additional construction without deconstruction.”
Built On Hope
by Marsha Stevens-Pino
Copyright BALM
We are united, a family of faith,
Impassioned for justice and humbled by grace,
Following with fervor the One who led us here,
Who will give us joy for sorrow and offers hope for fear.
(Chorus)
Hope that works, hope that tries,
Hope that sees Christ in their eyes,
Hope that heals and won’t tear down,
Hope that’s built on solid ground.
You have given us this mission so we know,
We can create a world of faith that’s built on hope.
We have decided to follow this Christ,
Who overthrows injustice, who offers new life,
Who fed all the hungry and healed all who hurt,
If you’re looking for our faith, may you find it in our works.
(Chorus)
A hope of peace and freedom, of faith and harmony,
What if it’s up to you and me???
(Final Chorus)
Hope that works, hope that tries,
Hope that sees Christ in their eyes,
Hope that heals and won’t tear down,
Hope that’s built on solid ground.
You have given us this mission so we know,
We can create a world of faith that’s built on hope.

Once again I say Thank you for reminding us that we are free to choose love and forgiveness. That’s because God freely offered those things to us.
I love it and it begs to be a sing along song!