O Antiphons - how you could increase your expectation for Jesus

 The Advent Antiphons

 

Traditionally, from 17 December, Advent shifts its focus slightly away from the returning king to the long-promised infant. We have just seven days to prepare for Christmas – the celebration of the incarnation.

 

Antiphons are short sentences, sometimes called refrains, which are used in evening worship across the world. They are said by everyone at a service before and after the Magnificat – the hymn Mary sings when she meets Elizabeth in Luke chapter one. It is not known when and by whom the antiphons were composed, but they were already in use by the eighth century.

 

All the Advent antiphons begin with ‘O ...’. They are addressed to God, calling for him to come as teacher and deliverer, with a tapestry of scriptural titles and pictures that describe his saving work in Jesus Christ. By reflecting each day on a different antiphon, we increase our expectation of Jesus and our need of him.

 

17 December – O Sapientia                          Wisdom

O Wisdom, coming forth from the mouth of the Most High,
reaching from one end to the other mightily,
and sweetly ordering all things:
Come and teach us the way of prudence.                                

 

18 December – O Adonai                             Lord

O Adonai, and leader of the House of Israel,
who appeared to Moses in the fire of the burning bush

and gave him the law on Sinai:
Come and redeem us with an outstretched arm.

 

19 December – O Radix Jesse                       Root (of Jesse)

O Root of Jesse, standing as a sign among the peoples;
before you kings will shut their mouths,
to you the nations will make their prayer:
Come and deliver us, and delay no longer.

 

20 December – O Clavis David                     Key (of David)

O Key of David and sceptre of the House of Israel;

you open and no one can shut;
you shut and no one can open:
Come and lead the prisoners from the prison house,

those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.

 

21 December – O Oriens                                  Light, Dawn

O Morning Star,
splendour of light eternal and sun of righteousness:

Come and enlighten those who dwell in darkness

and the shadow of death.

 

22 December – O Rex Gentium                        King

O King of the nations, and their desire,

the cornerstone making both one:

Come and save the human race,
which you fashioned from clay.

 

23 December – O Emmanuel                            God

O Emmanuel, our King and our lawgiver,

the hope of the nations and their Saviour:

Come and save us, O Lord our God.

 

Additional readings if you want to use them:

Dec 17 (Sapientia)     Ps 90,11; 1 Corinthians 2.1-13

Dec 18 (Adonai)       Psalm 106; Exodus 3.1-6; Acts 7.20-36

Dec 19 (Radix Jesse)  Psalm 50; Isaiah 11.1-9 Romans 15.7-13

Dec 20 (Clavis David) Psalm 89.1-34; Isaiah 22.21-23; Revelation 3.7-13

Dec 21 (Oriens)       Psalm27; Numbers 24.15b-19; Revelation 22.10-21

Dec 22 (Rex Gentium) Psalm 118; Jeremiah 30.7-11a; Acts 4.1-12

Dec 23 (Emmanuel)   Psalm 80; Isaiah 7.10-15; Matthew 1.18-23

 

Suggested pattern: for example a family or individual could sit follow a pattern of short prayers starting and ending with the sentences using one of the additional readings, sitting in silence and then praying the Lord’s prayer.

 

Say together Antiphon – Reading – Silence – Lord’s Prayer – repeat Antiphon

Further Education a significant opportunity or forgotten sector?

The Church of England has launched a new vision, Vocation, Transformation & Hope, for engagement with Further Education (FE). This is great news. I was an FE Chaplain from 2010-13, though I remained in the sector until 2015 advising colleges in the north of England about faith provision.

Since then I have trained for ordination and am now coming to the end of my curacy in Leeds.

But hearing the news this morning (1 May) has unsettled me a little as, and I'm honestly not exaggerating for effect here, last night (30 April) I was clearing through paperwork - imagining that I might be organised and tidied up before moving to my new post - and I found a reflection on FE written by me for my discernment process. 

Having not seen it for at least SEVEN years, I'm amazed I found it as the national church has launched a new vision for FE. It still feels current.

Reflection on Further Education

I had the privilege of being a Further Education College Chaplain for three years. Over time I came to identify four main aspects of my work: policy development; encouraging and facilitating a faith presence; offering pedagogical (teaching in class) input; and pastoral work. These four Ps became my framework of understanding. It was relatively straightforward explaining these motifs to managers and tutors. More Christian models were less accessible to staff. For example, Priest, Pastor and Prophet were three hats Chaplains were encouraged to wear, but how do you legitimise your presence by reference to these terms?

Not that I wasn't these things. The pastoring aspect of Chaplaincy is a common thread in all sectors and styles of chaplaincy. We exist to be the hands of Christ. The third mark of mission speaks of 'responding to human need by loving service.' FE pastoral work meets the joys and griefs of life - student deaths were a common occurrence. But counselling and listening to staff met a desperate human hunger -  to be seen as a person, not a cog in a machine. These conversations often unveiled unacknowledged injustices across the college, which had to be addressed. In so doing, becoming a prophetic voice, I found myself seeking to transform the culture of the college, challenging bullying and seeking peace, all of which falls under the fourth mark of mission. I had to challenge homophobic bullying as a natural part of this mission.

The priestly nature of chaplaincy was a mystery to me for some time. I was complaining about being described as 'The College Nice Guy' to a colleague, who insistently retorted, "do you know how few nice guys there are in college?"  Encouraging though this was, I was still left unhappy that my 'being there' could be considered 'chaplaincy.' It was this guilt that caused me to pour too much effort into policy development, acting as a de facto Equality Manager. It gave me credibility, but was, essentially, a sell out to the culture of productivity. Until I read something in Being a Priest Today (Cocksworth & Brown, 2006):

"When people brush up against the holy they are never quite the same afterwards...they have met someone who stands for another world, a different set of values that are strangely compelling...In this person something of the divine could be sensed, and it felt good to be in touch with such deep reserves of affirmation and love."

The first mark of mission is about proclaiming the good news, which on one level was strictly prohibited to me. I was expressly forbidden from proselytising (seeking to convert). But Chaplains are physical signs of God's grace. We are flesh and blood examples of Christian love and service, and even when we were simply available, present, our nature and character had an impact, a felt impact, on the college.

But when speaking of 'The College' to Christian leaders I was often met with overwhelming ignorance about the size and scope of the sector. Despite the presence of nearly 400 colleges in the UK, three million people learning in them, with nearly double the number of 16-18 year olds choosing college of maintained schools, FE barely registers on the radar of churches. Some Boards of Education don't even reference it.

And not only FE, but chaplaincy too. Chaplains are parodied as 'vicars that can't cut it,' or a soft option for the bruised and battered. Whereas FE Chaplaincy required emotional resilience, creativity, a passion for young people, and flexibility.

Unfortunately, I was released from the College's employ after a three year pilot. This was a rare institution appointment (I wasn't employed by the church to be chaplain), but couldn't withstand the current economic climate. This precarious presence in FE is not uncommon. Individual chaplains come and go, usually because the individual in post was a local enthusiast or a short term paid post. The church should reconsider its chaplaincy priorities, helping church congregations understand more about FE, its impact on the local economy and community potential, while also seeking to release more individuals into this exciting, effervescent and youthful work. And, after all, we are scratching our heads about missional work with young people/adults - a more intentional focus on FE might surprising results.

Lent 2021 - Journeying with Joel - Can you spend 40 days this Lent in one passage of the Bible?

Fancy a challenge, or rather fancy joining me in a challenge I'm setting myself.

Could you spend 40 days this Lent in one passage of the Bible?

Don't get me wrong, I know I'll read plenty more of the Bible, the Old Testament and New Testament, and I'll undoubtedly preach about other bits of the Bible, you might do too, but still...

What might happen to you, to me, if each day in Lent I came back to the passage from Joel we read on Ash Wednesday.

It's a funny, three-chaptered book in the middle of the minor prophets. I'm not confident he gets much of a look in throughout the other 51 weeks in the year, but every Ash Wednesday the Anglican church includes Joel 2:1-2,12-17 in its main service. I mean we don't even include the whole chapter, just a few select verses.

You can read them here, or the whole chapter here.

So that's eight verses in total. 

Eight verses from one chapter from one of the 39 books of the Old Testament, which itself is out of 66 books in the entire Bible.

I hear lots of people say that Lent isn't about giving stuff up (despite the ubiquity of the question: what are you giving up this Lent?). Instead, people tell me that Lent is about taking up practices, behaviours, habits and hobbies that will help their walk with God.

One of these disciplines is reading the Bible. There's this consensus among Christians I meet that they want to use Lent to 'read my Bible more.' This often leads to ungovernable reading plans, early alarm roll calls, and urgently downloaded Apps. And so many people plunge themselves into a swimming pool of guilt as they struggle to keep up with the volume of Bible they attempt to ingest.

What I'm suggesting is eight verses. Eight verses you might read every morning. You could read that as your coffee brews, or your washing bowl fills, or as you brush your teeth. How long does it take you to read eight verses? Doesn't sound like much, does it?  

You could read the verses and then have a read of this blog (if you want?). I'll try to blog each day on a new aspect of Joel I'm noticing.

Fancy it?

I do. It's both a serious challenge, but also a playful one.

And I hope that might characterise your Lent: serious and playful. 

And for a moment more, use your imagination, how might you feel, think, act if you were to commit to this challenge? What might happen to me in the rising to the challenge?

Uncertainty and Uproar: how a reeling world and a disoriented church need God

So it appears that last Sunday's service was the final act of worship in school.

At the time we worshiped, though we were expecting to soon suspend services, we had not considered that Sunday 15 March would be our final gathering before the unsurprising decision of the Archbishops. In case you haven't heard, the Church of England has suspended public worship until further notice.

In the short term this has sent us into a tailspin of planning as we seek to adjust to life as the church without church.

On one hand, the world is reeling from the ever-intensifying Government measures introduced to slow the rates of infection, and protect our precious NHS from being overwhelmed. Though we are also reeling from an outburst of panic buying that has stripped bare many shelves in mainline supermarket chains. It's been hard to not feel like our leaders are making it up as they go along, while people are simply losing their heads.

Meanwhile, the church, sensing the opportunity that lays before us, is perplexed and uncertain about where to even begin. Do we focus on internal matters of liturgy and worship, or focus instead on the many needy people in our communities? And for those seeking to address both ends of the spectrum how do we make wise plans?

Two moments in the last week deserve re-telling that shape my response.

Firstly, on Sunday morning I was leading our service. I often find the psalm listed for morning prayer to be a great place to start our worship. This last week it was Psalm 46.

Unusually for me, in a church full of chatter and hubbub during our time together, I asked if people might be quiet - I noted my eldest son turning at the back of the room, arrested from a moment of mischief and stood still. And I started to read this ancient text, commenting on its antiquity to the gathered assembly from south Leeds.

And as I read each phrase I found myself wanting to both cry and laugh...

"God is our refuge and strength...an ever-present help in trouble..." 

"Okay," I thought, "that's a bit on the nose."

"Therefore we will not fear, though...though...though..."

And I feel the objections rise up, "Surely God...what of the elderly, the unwell...?"

"There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

the holy place where the Most High dwells."

I've been exploring more of Leeds recently, enjoying walks beside the River Aire. And I'm mindful that Holbeck's name derives from an ancient stream ('beck'). God loves this place. God loves this city. I'd prayed in the week before (not a prayer I'd written)...'God knew this place before it had a name!'

"God is within her, she will not fall;

God will help her at break of day."

Yes! What hope!

"Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;

he lifts his voice, the earth melts."

Yes! What truth and insight. The nations are in uproar, in tumult, in distress and confusion. You may have seen the video of Bill Gates predicting years ago that the real threat to human life would not be because of war, but because of a virus. Coronavirus is going to cause seismic changes to society - it has exposed the fragility of our democratic, economic and social structures. Even our interdependent food supply chains are threatened, according to experts on the Food Programme (Radio 4) yesterday. This is a time of uproar, of melting, of fear and falling.

But are we to despair?

"The Lord Almighty is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress"

The antidote to despair is the knowledge that the living God, the Almighty one (the Pantokrater!), the God of our ancestors, and our fortress, that this one is WITH US.

"Should I stop here?" I wondered, "that's nice and neat....aw shucks, best read the whole thing..."

"Come and see the works of the LORD, the desolations he has brought on the earth.

Did God cause Coronavirus? Do the people think I'm blaming God?

"He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth; 

he breaks the bow and shatters the spear, he burns the shields with fire."

"errrr..." The Bible has this way of disorienting you enough to help you get your balance back. He is the God who brings wars to pass and wars to end. He can bring desolation and restoration. All time is in his hands.

"Be still, and know that I am God;

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth."

"Amen, amen, amen..." I felt rise up in me. And I then noticed that a particular stillness had fallen over the church congregation. It was like, even though there was already some restlessness at this reading, something went off in lots of us, a sense of coming home, of being spoken to from outside of ourselves. God's word is active. God's word allows us to encounter God...and as we prepared to sing, and laugh, and pray for each other, we were reminded to know that God is with us.

"The Lord Almighty is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress"

"Or is this just me...?" I panicked! Are those faces of bored indifference, or have they felt that spark as I did? Either way, "thank you God for being here, and setting our human affairs in the context of your majesty and presence."

Lesson one then - whatever is going on in the world, know God is with us.

Lesson two was a slip of the tongue earlier.

We'd had a long emergency planning meeting, and afterwards I chatted with a friend about my focus. Yesterday, I'd been into the two nearest pubs to my house, which I frequent regularly. Despite the Government's advice I visited in order to give to any who were there a church card with my number on - "Call me if you need anything!"

The temptation can often arise to be a messiah figure - to see yourself as the hero.

"I want to serve the community," I found myself saying. Followed quickly by a stream of consciousness, as though rebuking myself, "But I need to serve the church family so they can serve the community."

Of course, I'm still to do what I can. But I think church leaders would do well to remember our role to prepare people for good works. As Paul writes in Ephesians, "[God called] some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God's people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up." God loves the world (John 3:16), he is not indifferent to its suffering. We must seek to serve this place that he loves.

Lesson two then - how am I helping people to serve their community?

These are unprecedented times.

The world is reeling and the church is disoriented. There is uncertainty and uproar.

How do we respond?

Firstly, we are reminded that God is with us. He has not abandoned us. Meditate on Psalm 46 - trust the power of His Word to restore our souls in the face of despair and confusion. If you want some help or guidance or support or ideas on how to read the Bible, ask!

Secondly, we are to serve our community. The church exists to worship God, make and train disciples, and to love our world. If there's anything I can do to help folk serve the community better- great! As the church adjusts to life without the normal weekly rhythms perhaps we can recapture something of this servant heart.

Be assured that I am praying for you, wherever you are, and whatever you face.

God bless you!

Why was Bishop Curry's sermon so effective? What could we learn?

This is an immediate response to the brilliant sermon by Bishop Michael Curry preached today at the Royal wedding between Harry and Meghan, Saturday 19 May, 2018.

Quick note: in making observations about this sermon I am *not* suggesting all preachers should imitate Bishop Curry. This would be catastrophic - but I do think he uses some techniques and methods that ensure his message is engaging.

In no particular order:

He engages the congregation: he asks them how they travelled to the ceremony, he gets them to focus on the couple, he encourages people to recall falling in love for themselves.

More than that, he engages their imagination. He instructs people to imagine what the world might be like if we were ruled by love - and extends this to engage people's empathy when referring to hunger and poverty. When he asks us to imagine the earth as a sanctuary he is helping us dream a little. This is a powerful tool - to engage people's imagination!

Of course, in imagining a better world he was required to admit the world's failings. Bishop Curry didn't shy away from the need for justice in the world. It is my contention that when we preach there has to be a focus on the fruit - 'what impact would it have if we take seriously this or that message?' He didn't simply say, "isn't love nice!" but asked us to rise to the challenge. How might we as preachers provide a note of application, of challenge, even at a wedding.

Bishop Curry exhibits unapologetic confidence that his belief in Jesus and God is a) real and b) exciting. This confidence and passion creates that strange thing called 'authority.' Bishop Curry has no real 'power' to speak into anyone's life. He's a peddler of dangerous myths to some. But when preachers take their faith seriously and speak about it with confidence, I believe something mysteriously grace-filled happens in that moment and a person "demands" our attention. Let us not forget that we have these moments given to us, at funerals and weddings, we too can speak with confidence, with comfort, with challenge.

Naturally (as I observed), passion induces some people to laughter. Though, he didn't appear to care what people thought. It was just as fascinating watching the vsrious responses across the congregation. The beaming choristers in one shot, a mouth slightly agape, the (handsome) smile of David Beckham at the mention of family and a glance to his right, the fixed gaze of others on Bishop Curry, and yes, the smiles of embarassed amusement by others...(that's how I read it). And we shouldn't be surprised. This was not a sermon of erudition and deep philosophy (although that's not really true - we had MLK, Telhard de Chardin, and Jesus). Rather this passionate homily came from the heart. There was, as a result, something vaguely foolish about Bishop Curry. Not that he would have cared - and this sense of unguardedness was brilliant. Doubtless some will think him uncouth, lacking decorum, of not being suitably 'reverent.' What was evident was his captivitiy to the message and the author of that message. And it was certainly not about him. When we worry about what people will think of us when making choices in preaching I think we forfeit something...

Not that all the laughter was mocking, a good deal of it (in fact, most of it) was a result of a good healthy dose of humour on Bishop Curry's part. Some of us descend into clownish behaviour, while others believe it undignified to deign to use humour. My sense is that, just like Jesus, there was a balanced, helpful and engaging use of humour.

This humour and confidence (not least in the strength of his voice), were also allied to superb body language. He'd clearly committed much of the message to memory (though I need to stress that I am currently a STRONG advocate of scripted sermons to aid clarity and focus).This freedom from reading, meant that Bishop Curry was physical, not least in the way he constantly turned around to ensure he could look at everyone - even the chap behind him! Brilliant. Public speakers must do all they can to lift their eyes to the back row, to the sides, to the choir behind...try and look at people. I am sure Jesus would have looked in people's eyes. Not that an appearance of freewheeling implies either no preparation or no script: quite the contrrary I expect. This was a well thought through sermon.

Finally, the sermon depended on a strong sense of image. He latched on two words: LOVE and FIRE. This was a wedding sermon and those of us who have the privilege of preaching at a wedding should be inspired by Bishop Curry. Yes there were rhetorical flourishes (did you notice his alliterative opening prayer?), public speaking techniques, but a sermon must still be reduced to the words spoken. Bishop Curry was not ambiguous about his theme - Love and Fire. I so enjoyed the way he spoke of Jesus setting the challenge of the two commandments - the way he spoke of loving God and loving neighbour. Didn't it grip your heart? Isn't that ultimately what a good sermon does? 

It would be easy for us to regard this sermon as a victory for the church, for Bishop Curry, for preaching in general - but that, of course, would miss the point. The strength of this sermon was it's message: we were made by God, who is love, and if we are his children we should love our brothers and sisters, and love God - that is what makes life work, what might life pleasant and rewarding for all.

What do you think? Did this sermon hit the mark, or was it a lot of hot air?

Lent through Joel 1: First things first, Christian, its all about the heart, all of it.

Yesterday (yes, I know...typical tardiness) was Ash Wednesday. Rather surprisingly, I was asked to preach at the Ashing service.

Well actually, I was asked to offer a short reflection.

So I really shouldn't have rolled my sleeves up (metaphorically) to do some actual investigation of the text. I chose to preach on Joel 2:1-2, 12-17.

As I lay in bed this morning, contemplating the rest of Lent, I was struck that there really was so much I had wanted to say, but couldn't even hint at, let alone say.

So I've decided to try and extend my reflection on Joel 2:1-2, 12-17 across the forty days of Lent. Each day I will explore, briefly, another aspect of this reading and what it might say to us as we journey through Lent.

So here goes...ready?

God doesn't want part of your heart, he wants it all. You are to be wholehearted.

As I lay awake in bed on Tuesday evening, having drafted my sermon, in those few moments before I drift off to sleep, and that's genuinely about a minute normally, I felt a prompt deep within me that I had "missed the point."

Sure, I'd noticed that God speaks directly, in the first person, only in verse 12 of Joel 2.

"Even now, return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning."

Now as it was Ash Wednesday two things had preoccupied me: the idea of a return, and the combination of prayer-aids (fasting/weeping/mourning). But it was as if God told me to re-read the sentence. I was planning on saying, "God wants your heart."

But that's not what it says - unfortunately.

That would have made the call very fitting for Valentine's Day. When so much money is spent by couples on gifts and meals, while constantly holding back some of their heart, awaiting a better option, another heart to pursue. (Not all I appreciate!)

It's easy to give some of your heart. To be part time, to offer some commitment.

But God is patiently asking for nothing less than all our hearts.

And that is why I need Lent.

There are parts of my heart I don't want to give God, sins I cherish and cling to, attitudes of self-righteousness that allow me to justify my moods and tempers. I even use some religious habits to protect me from really giving myself to God.

Lent then is the season of the year where we step into a wilderness, we try to wean ourselves off those things that seek to control or dominate. We acknowledge the things that have a piece of our heart.

I think Joel offers some insights into how we might do this. Perhaps you'll accompany me as we work through this call to return to God with all our hearts.

Christian, ever feel lost? Worried no-one is singing for you? [Blog]

If, like me, you grew up in a Church Culture that emphasised the need to 'make a decision' for Jesus, or 'come to faith, or 'turn to Christ,' you may have a particular blind spot to something that really arrested me this morning.

As I checked my Lectionary (calendar of readings for the year), I was taken to Luke 15. Immediately, my heart sank a little: the parable of the lost sheep and the lost coin (Luke 15:1-10). I feel like this has been preached at me dozens and dozens of times (it may of course be that I imagine this has happened!). In my childhood the purpose of this parable was simple: it illustrates that we must repent, for that is when the angels in heaven will be singing. As Jesus says, "there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who do not need to repent." And later, "there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents." (vv.7, 10)

And that's the deal, yeah?

When a person prays the prayer, or comes to faith, or responds to the altar call, when they do that for the first time - the angels are rejoicing.

It's like heaven is a huge office with angels and the like beavering about on the phone, and every once in a while there's this cry, "Hold one everyone! Yes...we've just heard news, Terry has become a Christian!" And there's these whoops and cheers as the counter ticks over one more number. And some office intern hits a button and this choir is revealed to sing the Hallelujah Chorus, but is quickly ushered away back behind a curtain.

(Now please don't mistake me - Heaven and Earth care about individuals coming to faith - we're in the business of encouraging people to come to God, come to

Jesus, come to life. And this does require decisions.)

However, and here's my point: if the parable refers only to starting faith, what relevance does it have for me?

Perhaps, just perhaps, Jesus is reminding me that every time in my daily life I repent, I turn from one way of thinking, acting, behaving, and I recommit to a life as God's child - not my own master - whenever I do this, whenever I repent - there is rejoicing in heaven.

Heaven delights when it sees us following Jesus. This is why the angels are forever singing - there are Christians all over the world at this very moment rededicating themselves.

But it is not as though this praise is simply a recognition of my work. They don't sing praises to me, as if they go, "well done Rolf, you've chosen the right path again!" In fact, it is God who says that, like a parent - but it's much MUCH more about the angels delighting in the one who sought me out - the Shepherd or the Woman who lost her coins.

The praise in heaven is simultaneously about the Lover and the Loved - the Shepherd and the Sheep.

Be encouraged this day, that the angels and heaven delight and sing praises to God whenever and wherever you repent and turn back to Christ. You are never too lost or too broken - you are always being sought and loved by God.

Do you celebrate Saints' Days?

Do you celebrate Saints' Days?

Now it seems to me there'll be one of three possible responses to this question:
- A shrug of complete indifference...Saints whats??
- A whole-hearted embracing of all things saintly, including devotion and prayers to Saints, or
- A robust refusal marked by a clear appeal to Christ the only mediator, etc etc...

Why should this matter?

Well one feature of Anglicanism I have come to appreciate over the years is the calendar of saints days, holy days, commemorations and special days of focus.

I've written elsewhere of my deep admiration of various saints (Hugh of Lincoln, Henry Martyn, Charles Simeon...) but whilst enjoying the kind of 'who's who,' I've always struggled to understand what their role is in worship.

Today, 28 October, we celebrate Simon and Jude, Disciples and Apostles listed in the Gospels as two of the twelve closest companions of Jesus. While there was certainly a wider retinue of disciples and supporters who travelled around with Jesus, something different took place in the relationship with Jesus and his 12 Apostles.

On these Festival days we are encouraged to remember the sacrifice of the Apostles. Of the twelve original Disciples we know one, Judas Iscariot, committed suicide. According to tradition, only John survived to old age. Each of the other ten Disciples were martyred - killed for their faith.

These ordinary men from diverse backgrounds were so convinced of the Lordship of Jesus, that he had not only died but had risen from the dead, so convinced of God's love for the world that they went (allegedly) to different regions to preach the Good News.

Of today's saints, Simon, who is described as 'the Zealot', is believed to have died in Persia after refusing to sacrifice to the sun god.

Judas, sometimes called Thaddeus or Judas Thaddeus, has often been over-looked in devotions. His name being similar to Judas Iscariot (who betrayed Jesus - hence the suicide), people were reluctant to invoke his name. When he was prayed to it was often as a last resort. Hence the custom that one prays to St Jude to find lost items for he is the patron saint of lost causes! According to tradition, Jude was martyred in Beirut around 65AD together with the Apostle Simon the Zealot. He's depicted carrying an axe - the object that killed him!

Here of course, is revealed a problem with these traditions: conflicting accounts of where and how Apostles died. Did Simon die in Persia or Syria?

Of course, we cannot know with any certainty. Nor indeed can we speculate with confidence about their current location. Some believe the saints are in God's very presence now, while we toil below. Others see saints as no more special than any other human and are, therefore, very much dead and buried until the final days when we will all be raised. For the latter group, praying to saints is ineffective - they cannot intercede on our behalf. For the former, the opposite is true.

Here is not the place to explore this theological conundrum, except to say that in my own devotions I have grown comfortable praying about the saints. I am frequently moved and inspired by the stories of lives given in service of God. Many of these individuals were not inherently special, just ordinary.

The Apostles were probably the most normal, ordinary unremarkable bunch compared to almost every saint that follows - not least as they laid down the template of loving service.

So what?

Well, firstly, let us pay particular attention to the Saints' Days of the Apostles scattered through the year:

1 May - Philip and James (the less)
29 Jun - Peter (and Paul)
3 Jul - Thomas
25 Jul - James (brother of John)
24 Aug - Bartholomew
21 Sep - Matthew
28 Oct - Simon (the Zealot) and Jude
30 Nov - Andrew
27 Dec - John (brother of James)

Don't forget, Judas Iscariot, the twelfth disciple, doesn't have a day, and (yes) there are other 'Apostles' who are celebrated through the year, but these eleven are the original crew!

Secondly, use these days for whatever helps you remember their sacrifice. As these are festivals you may even want to develop little traditions that help you keep their memory vivid for the day. Be joyful and celebrate. Find some food that can help you? Or maybe visit churches with the name of the saint?

I enjoy tagging all my friends on Facebook  with the names of the Apostles - it can generate some interesting conversations!

Thirdly, and finally, it is important to use these days of celebration to fuel our own service. The collects (special prayers for the day, pronounced "COL-ect") help me.

Today's is:

Almighty God,who built your Church upon the foundationof the apostles and prophets,with Jesus Christ himself as the chief cornerstone:so join us together in unity of spirit by their doctrine,that we may be made a holy temple acceptable to you;through Jesus Christ our Lord.Amen.

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of  witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us."

Hebrews 12:1

Curacy Announcement

Today's the day!

After 8 months, I can finally announce that I will be serving my curacy in the parish of ST LUKE THE EVANGELIST, Beeston Hill and Holbeck, Leeds. We'll be moving back to Yorkshire this summer, specifically to LS11!

My Training Incumbent (TI) who is like a kind of boss/mentor/lead vicar, is a brilliant chap called Alistair Kaye (read about him here, here and here). He's easily one of the main reasons I was drawn to this curacy.

Because, and if we're honest, this part of Leeds we're moving to is not Cuddesdon, rural Oxfordshire! It's a vibrant, diverse, exciting, challenged and challenging place to live. And the church is doing some amazing work and it's going to be a place of huge opportunity and blessing - we're looking forward to joining in with all that God's already doing. To give you a sense of the challenges you can look at this useful info provided by the Church Urban Fund. If you're really interested you might also consider a recent documentary about the decriminalised red-light zone in Holbeck, part of the parish. It's pretty uncompromising, and by no means a reflection of all the area has to offer(!) Indeed, there's been lots of investment and good intentions about south Leeds.

It's a funny old process announcing where you've been sent to serve your curacy. Well...when I say 'your' curacy...in my case it's 'our' curacy, as in me, Jen (my wife) and our boys.

Well...I say sent to 'our' curacy when in fact what I should say is: I am sent, my family follow. They might even say 'dragged.' It's a very hard process, one I'm not sure I've got quite right.

And above all, announcing the curacy begins, somewhat formally, the process of mentally connecting with a new place, community, church and activities. I am very excited about where we're going. Excited and nervous.

It's days like these when I think about being both excited and giddy for the future and service, whilst also considering the cost and sacrifice to my family.

The old faithful verses come back to mind:

"I will come to you and fulfil my gracious promise to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." (Jeremiah 29:10-13)

And:

"You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit - fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other." (John 15:16f.) 

Wise and Cheerful Boldness

Yay!

It's 17th November...one of my favourite Saints is celebrated today - Hugh of Lincoln.

I wrote a little blog about this chap six years ago (SIX YEARS AGO...what?!?)

One of the characteristics I long to see more of from folk around me is cheerfulness - it sounds trite, but having a joyful demeanour, marked by a sense of patient acceptance of where we're stationed at any point in our life - this can be a deeply attractive quality.

Here's the collect for today:

O God,
who endowed your servant Hugh
with a wise and cheerful boldness
and taught him to commend to earthly rulers
      the discipline of a holy life:
give us grace like him to be bold in the service of the gospel,
putting our confidence in Christ alone,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.


In addition to cheerfulness, the prayer mentions boldness twice.

What does boldness look like for you?

How might you cultivate both boldness and cheerfulness this day?

It reminds me of the office hymn we use during All Saintstide evening prayer: Give Me the Wings of Faith

 

Give me the wings of faith to rise
within the veil, and see
the saints above, how great their joys,
how bright their glories be.

 

Once they were mourning here below,
and wet their couch with tears;
they wrestled hard, as we do now,
with sins and doubts and fears.

 

I ask them whence their victory came:
they, with united breath,
ascribe their conquest to the Lamb,
their triumph to his death.

 

They marked the footsteps that he trod,
his zeal inspired their breast,
and, following their incarnate God,
possess the promised rest.

 

Our glorious Leader claims our praise
for his own pattern given;
while the long cloud of witnesses
show the same path to heaven.

Lamentable Worship

I've really not wanted to blog much since starting at Theological College - there are too many voices babbling away, sharing their ten pennies worth. So before I go on, and simply add more hot air to the interweb, allow me to explain why this blog...

Firstly, this piece today is much more for my friends and colleagues at Ripon College Cuddesdon (RCC) - this is the college I'm training at in preparation for Ordination, which (God willing) will take place next summer - 2017. I hope this piece will be of use to anyone who leads or plans worship...

Within college I have the dubious honour of being one of two worship leaders. It is our responsibility: to pull together the talent and skills from across the college (which we do marginally well); to plan the basic structure for the term's worship, which involves balancing our use of traditional and contemporary styles (which we do less marginally well than the first duty); we help shape patterns and choices through our introduction (or shelving) of certain music/hymns/songs; we encourage people to engage with the college's breadth of style and volume of worship; and finally, we draw upon our (and others') skills to contribute to the weekly 'Worship Rehearsals' where we consider (in 25 minutes) an aspect of our shared community worship life.

This week had been ear-marked for 'Song Bashing', i.e. we were going to have a brisk romp through a few songs we fancied using in future weeks/months, or ensure new material already used was bedding in well.

I was, therefore, less than amused when our Worship Director (the member of staff responsible for the college's Worship life) asked if I would consider how we might encourage students to use more songs of LAMENT or SOCIAL ACTION.

ha!

 

Thanks for that!

Earlier in term I'd led a session on 'choice and variation in Morning Prayer' (we do Common Worship Morning Prayer Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, at 7.30am), and a second session on Hymnody/Song Choices. The second session was really a two-for-one - we tried to do too much in 25 minutes.

And so it proved again tonight - 25 minutes was NEVER going to be long enough to cover all the ground...

SO......

Mindful of what I didn't say, and in an attempt to capture what I did, here are my thoughts on this tricky (if very topical) issue of choosing songs that look to life's harsher realities.

Foundations

Firstly, I encourage people to look at this excellent blog by Bob Kauflin. He's a Worship Leader and theologian I respect working with a team of worship leaders and song writers who ensure they craft songs of depth and substance. Within the blog he explores why we shy away from songs of Lament, and ways to approach the subject. Bob's blog also includes links to three other blogs he's written that include songs he's used. In addition, here's a useful blog by Cardiphonia. This has a host of resources to aid you - I confess I haven't checked them all out...yet!

I think the simplest way to start this topic is to accept that all too often our worship has a tendency to rely on a overly-realized eschatology. Many Christians accept the 'now, but not yet' paradox that life in the here and now presents: we're simultaneously here on earth (now) but citizens of heaven (the not yet). Unfortunately, our worship tends to focus much more on a 'shiny happy people' syndrome which makes over-reaching claims about how much of God and his kingdom has broken out in our lives. Yes - God is faithful and loving, but we have to accept that to the widow, the abused, the marginalised and many many many others their lives are not rosy or happy - and their circumstances do not testify to a loving, kind, faithful God.

Thankfully, we are in good company for the Psalmist has many causes to cry out to God in desperation and anger - WHERE ARE YOU??

Our worship must accept and address these real emotions.

BUT!!!!!!!!!! (and this is a clear warning!)

These songs (the few you can find) are not to be flippantly dropped into a service without a second thought.

For instance, the John Bell and Graham Maule song 'Christ's is the World (A Touching Place)' includes the following verse:

"Feel for the parents who've lost their child,

feel for the women whom men have defiled,

feel for the baby for whom there's no breast,

and feel for the weary who find no rest"

These are not easy words to read, let alone sing, let alone sing if you know somebody for whom these categories are true, let alone if you are one of the people in those categories...

This is NOT a tick box exercise - "Have we included a song of lament in this service?"

No, indeed, we should always ensure that songs like this are coming out of either the theme of the Bible passages we read, the sermon, or perhaps real events going on around us, but we must be pastorally sensitive. Always!

Categories

I would say that you have to be alert to some subtle distinctions too.

Some songs are less lament, and more corporate confession. Other songs don't really do anything more than offer intercessions on behalf of other people. A Lament is defined as 'a passionate expression of grief or sorrow'. So yes, a lament could be on another's behalf, corporate or individual - but the emphasis, I would suggest, is on GRIEF. Songs of Lament in church flies in the face of our espoused HOPE. But it is important these songs are written and sung. There is a place for songs that accept our responsibility - where we confess our sins. The key difference I would suggest is that confessional songs focus on our sin, whereas Lament can be about the sin we feel that has been done to us, or a general sense of God's absence in the face of trials and suffering.

Trials and suffering is the key link to Social Action songs. These appear to fall into one of three broad camps: songs about Acts of Mercy (references to the poor, blind, needy in a general sense, but built upon Jesus' instructions in Matthew 25); songs about Mission (a more settled focus on taking the Word to the 'lost', whatever lost means); and finally songs about Injustice (explicit reference to sin in the world that should be challenged).

I think the last category (Injustice) is the trickiest to approach. In these songs we are deliberately naming the sin and evil around us. This may prompt questions and anger in some congregations. How about these words from 'Inspired by Love and Anger':

'From those forever shackled

to what their wealth can buy,

the fear of lost advantage

provokes the bitter cry,

"Don't query our position!

Don't criticize our wealth!

Don't mention those exploited

by politics and stealth!" '

How easily might these words be sung on a Sunday morning?? They beg a response and prayer - don't they!

Slim Pickings and the final verse pick-me-up

But where to even start...?

There are some songs/hymns about social issues. There are scarcely a handful of genuine songs of lament. There's a fair bit of the confessional stuff I've listed above.

What you tend to find are songs that have blurry edges.

One of my favourite songs in this genre is 'O Lord the Clouds are Gathering' by Graham Kendrick. I've used this song on a few occasions, notably once in Yorkshire not long after the London Riots (which were spreading around the country). The response from the congregation was moving - it had clearly struck a chord. The song addresses sin around us, our choices to ignore God, the horror of war, but the chorus switches to an 'us' mentality. I especially like the use of both the Kyrie Eleison motif ('Have mercy, Lord') but also the quote from Amos 5:24

"But let justice roll on like a river,

righteousness like a never-failing stream"

However, and this is an important facet of virtually all these songs, even when the subject matter is tough and gritty, there is almost always a positive final verse. Theologically, I understand. Most Psalms of Lament have a turn to faithful trust in the final verses, even in the midst of despair.

There is one notable exception: Psalm 88.

Might it be possible to sing any song in church which has an ambiguous or unresolved end?

One that I have found is Stuart Townend's 'We Have Sung Our Songs of Vict'ry', which ends with the chorus:

How long

before you drench the barren land?

How long

before we see your righteous hand?

How long

before your name is lifted high?

How long

before the weeping turns to songs of joy?

There is no happy ending. Yes the final verse declares that we 'know a day is coming'...but they conclude with 'how long?'

Sourcing these songs

So you decide to try out some of these songs, where to start?

In fact, how do you begin to broaden your repertoire in general?

Firstly, do some detective work. Talk to your friends, ask on Facebook. Just in preparing for my session today I asked the community and learnt of three songs I had no idea about. You should also try to visit other churches and try different YouTube/Spotify channels that might expose you to new material.

I've had a long aversion to Taize, but Spotify and the wealth of Taize albums has meant I've had reason to really engage with their catalogue of material - lots of it is beautiful.

Always try to stay open-minded about what you might learn from other traditions.


Secondly, do some homework. Look at the indices of your songbooks.

You should invest in one or two music hymnbooks. At college we use A&M, which is 'Ancient & Modern' (2013) and 'Complete Anglican Hymns Old & New' (2000, although a newer updated version is available). You might prefer 'Hymns for Today's Church' or 'New English Hymnal'. Either way I really do think having access to some old traditional hymnody is a great place to start.

For more contemporary styles you have three broad 'book' choices: SoF which is 'Songs of Fellowship' series (6 volumes), 'The Source' series (4 volumes), and 'Mission Praise' series (2 volumes).

Personally, I have grown to love A&M and SoF. A word of caution though, unless you're really committed to staying 'cutting edge' the very latest SoFs may not be necessary. You know what style suits you, but as a guitarist I trust the chord arrangements in SoF for all songs, especially any hymns they include, which is a lot actually.

Once you've got your book you should look through the indices - you can usually look up songs by Bible Reference and/or Theme.

What you'll notice is how few songs there are under the themes of sorrow, lament, social action, justice, etc.


Thirdly, do some listening.

Okay, you've found a handful of hopeful looking songs - but you don't actually know the tune/song at all.

I have found Spotify and/or YouTube a good place to start to try and locate a song to have a listen.

Or you could use various online portals for support:
For Hymns: Hymnary, Cyberhymnal or Oremus. I've also recently been pointed to Andrew Remillard's YouTube channel which you can search through by Hymn tune name.
For Contemporary: WorshipTogether, Worship Central, weareworship, and Praise Charts.

Have an explore!


Finally, you need to have a sing!

Additional tips

- Don't try and crowbar these songs in, especially the ones with tough lyrics. Be especially sensitive!
- It may be that you find a song and it works well musically but the time is never right - be patient. I've sat on some discoveries for years before I feel the time is right to use a song, etc.
- Always keep in mind the core underlying structures/shape of worship.
Whether you adhere to a loose: gathering-word-prayer-sending out model,
or a more Eucharistic flavoured: processional-confession/absolution/Kyrie-Gloria/praise-readings/acclamations-creed-intercessions-offertory-Sanctus-Agnus Dei-distribution-post-communion/praise-sending out/recessional
finding a suitable spot for a song of lament will be tricky. Some songs about justice would be entirely appropriate around the confession, others the prayers, while others act as great stimuli to get out and walk the walk! Think about where you place these.
- Remember the joy of hymns: you can use a familiar tune with unfamiliar words if the meter works. Here's a blog introducing meter.
- Also, remember to introduce new songs carefully and sensitively! I'll blog about new songs sometime...

Final Comments

This blog has ended up taking an entire evening to write...and probably a long time for you to read it - sorry!!

But this issue is important.

My favourite Psalm is Ps.42. It includes the opening: "As the deer pants for the waters so my soul pants for you, O God." But within a short span you end on the less positive note:

"Why are you so downcast, O my soul?

Why so disturbed within me?

Put your hope in God,

for I will yet praise him,

my Saviour and my God." (v.11)



 

Two verses earlier, "why have you forgotten me?" (v.9)

 

Are we honest with ourselves about where we feel close or distant from God?

 

Good worship is not a result of one service, it is a disposition of the heart, which finds expression in a community. Worship is measured by its fruit - does God get glory, is Jesus lifted up, and do we see a deepening pattern of discipleship. Are we more loving, joyful, peace-ful/peace-making, patient, kind, good, faithful, gentle and self-controlled?

 

For these things to happen I think we must be honest and authentic with God - privately and corporately. We do not put a pious veneer on our lives to pretend we're okay. We're called to mourn and weep with those who mourn and weep. And sometimes we are the ones mourning and weeping.

 

I wonder, given the political and emotional climate in the world today, what might happen if we created more opportunities in our worship for our worries, grief, grievances, fear, sorrow, anger and lament. If the world saw Jesus being lifted up, worshipped and praised, the Prince of Peace amidst our honest struggles - would this be the sign of hope the world needs?

 

 

Wake up!

Wake up!

I can think of this phrase being used toward me in two distinct ways. Firstly, my mother shrieking at me – desperately berating me for not getting out of bed sooner, the constant nagging (oft-realised) fear of lateness. I’m reminded of the time my Mum burst into my bedroom at 3.20am (yes…AM) to startle me awake – I’d missed the rendezvous with the school exchange trip leaving for Switzerland. We were due at school for 3am….quickest morning I’ve ever had. Have you ever overslept? Struggled to rouse yourself from deepest recesses blissful slumber? My colleagues and I have to be in chapel for 7.30am each day – the latecomers do not go unnoticed!

Then secondly, I can think of people’s response to my naïve assumptions about the world and its workings. My idealistic naiveté getting in the way of accurate assessment – met with the words, “Wake up, Rolf! Get real!” A real call to understanding and right thinking.

All humans are similarly called in these ways. On the one hand we’re asked to be alert, to be present, to be ‘on time, whilst also being reminded to understand and see things for how they really are. Wilful ignorance is one of the greatest threats to humanity – we allow ourselves to be told, to be spoonfed and be misled. And our diets of consumerism and individualism lead to drowsiness and slumber. We are, if you will, asleep on the backseat while we let someone else drive the car.

This is why the great Advent cry is of such importance to our spiritual (and therefore whole) wellbeing.

Jesus spoke in stark terms about the future of humanity. He painted a bleak, depressing image of the world:

“On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity”, and “your hearts will be weighed down with carousing, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you suddenly like a trap.” (Luke 21:25, 34)

When we look at the world today we are immediately struck by the confusion and pain. How do we respond to such ‘reckless hate’ seen in the attacks across the world, the suicide bombers? How do we tackle the threat of violence? With more violence? And what are we protecting? A consumerist madness where we worship sales and bargains and deals? At what further cost, when the leaders of the nations are assembling to consider climate change and the ongoing damage to the environment? Violence. Consumerism. Poor stewardship.

But before we get the impression these ‘evils’ somehow exist outside of us, in the great beyond, out there, in ‘other people’, let us be clear that this same evil that grips the hearts of others, grips us.

We too have angry, rage fuelled thoughts. I get incensed at the slow driver, the poorly organised queue in a coffee shop, the disruption to sleep.

We too are driven by individualism and consumerism. I’m prepared to buy books from a website knowing that its employees are treated as nothing more than cattle – just so I can save a few pounds, or worse, get it sooner. I am willing to dehumanise someone just so I am not inconvenienced?

We too are poor stewards. The food I throw away. The clothes that are replaced. The unethically farmed meat. The heating left on all day. The lights not turned off. The hospitality not gifted. The love not offered.

 

That is why Advent is a penitential season. For it is only when we wake up and see both the state of our hearts and the state of the world that we truly see the need for a Saviour.

Advent is not a make believe season. We don’t pretend to be Jews waiting for their Messiah. It is not a preamble to Christmas – it is the real deal – it is about God working in our lives.

We need a Saviour now!

 

So Advent is most especially about preparing our hearts to hear afresh the wondrous news that God HAS COME. Much like in Lent, where despite knowing we live in the shadow of the cross, we use the time to prepare for a fresh sense of awe and wonder at the mercy and grace God poured out in and through the cross, so Advent must also be a time where we are prepared. We come to acknowledge our desperate brokenness.

And yet, it is also, most profoundly, about an acknowledgement of the world’s brokenness.

This is the root of the cry, ‘Come, Lord Jesus’. We don’t pretend we’re living two thousand years ago, watching and waiting. We look on our 21^st century world and sigh in pain and sorrow.

We try to bring something of God’s Kingdom to those around us. We believe the Kingdom of God is within us, is growing, is glimpsed at in the loving relationships around us.

But, O Lord, we are also painfully aware that God’s Kingdom is not yet here.

 

Advent then forces us to pray, with increasing fervour and intensity, “YOUR KINGDOM COME!”

 

And he will!

 

Jesus speaks about the future return of the Son of Man:
‘²⁵ “There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. ²⁶ People will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. ²⁷ At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.

²⁹ He told them this parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees. ³⁰ When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. ³¹ Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that the kingdom of God is near.” (Luke 21:25-27, 29-31)

These words “concern the true eschatological event, the coming of the Son of Man, which…is the “fulfilment” of the kingdom of God, the moment when God’s rule becomes definitive.” (Johnson, 1991, p.330)

The waiting game though, is hard. The Parable of the faithful and wise manager (Luke 12:42-28) reminds us that one temptation is to ‘beat the servants and to eat and drink and get drunk.” I was profoundly struck when I heard my placement incumbent suggest that the obsession with eating and drinking around Christmas is a form of (false) worship. We are to rejoice and celebrate – but not in and for itself.

Another temptation is to despair – the seed that has fallen but whose life is choked out by life’s worries – the ones who don’t mature (Luke 8:14). Jesus himself says, “³⁴ “Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with carousing, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you suddenly like a trap. ³⁵ For it will come on all those who live on the face of the whole earth.” (Luke 21:34f.)

So what are we to do? How are we to use Advent as a time to reflect on our personal need of a Saviour, but also a time to look for God’s return?

Jesus says:

²⁸ When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

Praise God! We are called to worship!

³³ Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.

Be Confident! We are promised His continued presence.

³⁶ Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man.”

Watch and pray! We are called to wake up!

 

And yet…let us be reminded of the great Advent prayer: Come, Lord Jesus!

We are not praying that we might be better able to effect God’s kingdom – we look for God to move. This is why the words of Isaiah are so redolent:

“Awake, awake, arm of the Lord,

    clothe yourself with strength!

Awake, as in days gone by,

    as in generations of old.” (Isaiah 51:9)

 

May we all, this Advent, be awoken to worship and prayer.

May we all, this Advent, cry together, “Lord Jesus, Come!”