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.

The world's sap has sunk...

Tomorrow is the longest night of the year…correspondingly we have to endure its shortest day. And as if to rub our noses in it, the weather has turned decidedly grim. It’s one thing to be cold, but at least crispiness and sub-zero mornings make us dream of a white Christmas. Dark mornings, gloominess, wet and windy weather all induce a deep reluctance to get up: duvet weather.

Like the animals, it’s an attractive option to hibernate through the dark of winter.

And the darkness is spiritual.

 

 

The beginning of Advent is marked by the excitement and unquenchable optimism that Christ is coming to reign…we sing ‘Lo! He comes…’

However, this year I’ve found myself (not unlike the passage of Lent) becoming steadily more gloomy spiritually as the season has progressed. Instead of the dimmer effect – steady growth from dark to light – it’s been a gradual darkening: from dark to darker! And I think it’s John Donne’s fault:

Tis the year’s midnight, and it is the day’s,

Lucy’s, who scarce seven hours herself unmasks;

The sun is spent, and now his flasks

Send forth light squibs, no constant rays;

The world’s whole sap is sunk

 

These are his opening words from ‘A nocturnal upon St Lucy’s Day’

Traditionally, St Lucy’s Day, 13 December, was regarded as the shortest day of the year – hence the idea of the “year’s midnight”…and the evocative assessment that “the world’s whole sap is sunk”.

St Lucy is a 4^th century martyr. Around Lucy certain legends have developed, not least the persistent idea that her eyes were removed before her death. However, this idea is unfounded, and absent in the many narratives and traditions, at least until the 15th century. But it’s rather poetic isn’t it. This beautiful young maiden, whose name, Lucy, is derived from the Latin for light (lux), has the one thing removed that casts light within – her eyes. She is, before death, consigned to darkness.

Liturgically, St Lucy’s day is followed by St John of the Cross Day who famously penned the poem, ‘The Dark Night of the Soul’. Happy.

Indeed, not only does St John’s poetry witness to the darkness that so often engulfs the human spirit, thrusting us into realms and periods of detachment and difficulty, seasons of isolation, even from God, when all is dark about us. But St John’s life itself witnesses to the darkness that accompanies walking with Christ. He was jailed in a monastery, where he was kept under a brutal regimen that included public lashing before the community at least weekly, and severe isolation in a tiny stifling cell measuring ten feet by six feet; not what you’d call palatial. Rarely, he was permitted an oil lamp, and he had to stand on a bench to read his prayer book by the light through a hole in the wall. He had no change of clothing and a meagre diet of water, bread and scraps of salt fish. A very real and no doubt soul-searchingly depressing period of darkness.

 

And then as if these two saints of the church were not enough, we were all confronted with the darkness of human nature in the massacre at Sandy Nook Elementary School. Sadly, the murder of 20 children only made me weep, and remember the Holy Innocents…Why, Lord? Why such darkness? How do we as Christians sing “my heart is full of admiration…” and so on, when we are confronted with evil?

On the same day I had a few hours to myself in the evening and possessed by a curious mood I decided to watch ‘Schindler’s List’ and so was plunged into more soul searching as I pondered afresh the torment and horror of the Final Solution and the death camps.

Whatever hopefulness that greets Advent, it has given way to a despair that accompanies the frank realisation of the state of the world. A spirit of evil and darkness seems to brood over the lives of man.

But in fact, maybe this is precisely the correct trajectory we take in Advent.

As I’ve remarked before, Advent is NOT about imagining we live in the Before Christ times; make-believing that we are shepherds and wise men waiting for the Messiah. No.

But something has to happen to our Advent cry. To sanctify and purify it. 

At the end of the liturgical year we reflect on the lives of the saints and the promise of eternal life in God’s presence in heaven: the last and eternal things. This naturally gives way to Advent where we begin the year eagerly expecting Christ’s coming. We are often expressly admonished to be joyful in this season. We are told – this is not a second Lent. We are reminded that the season is not penitential in nature.

Really?

I would contend that any serious engagement with the Advent readings, and much of this is in Isaiah, makes us reflect on the nature of our fallenness:

“The earth lies polluted under its inhabitants” (Isa. 24:5)

“He [man] cannot save himself” (Isa. 44:20)

The prophet points at the sins of indolence and laziness (47:8), of sorcery and astrology (47:12f.), of idolatry and pride (44:9-23; 47:7). The prophet says sin is rebelliousness “from birth” (48:8b).

In essence, we frequently and persistently turn away from God: we forget him (Isaiah 51:13).

Perhaps it is entirely fitting that this period from 13^th to 21^st December represents the dark heart of winter (and why the counterpoint of Gaudete Sunday is so refreshing. My friend Bryony preached on this on 16^th December). This week is the grim core of Advent, when we are finally worn down by the weather, the world, sin and our adversary, the Devil, who features in our readings from Thessalonians. We are afflicted on every side. Like the Psalmist, David, we might well say, “I am in the midst of lions; I am forced to dwell among ravenous beasts…”(Psa 57:4)

And then when I look inside…I realise I am one of those lions, I am one of the beasts. I am my own darkness.

 

So what do we do?

We cry that great Advent exclamation: WAKE UP, DO SOMETHING, LORD! SAVE US (Isa. 51:9)

And the beautiful truth of this season is this: the hope of a world redeemed can only be sustained when we have in our heart the truth of a promise fulfilled: a baby born. We can only trust God to be faithful, because he was faithful to his promises of old to come into the world to comfort and console us. And it gets better!

“We know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus” (2 Corinthians 4:14).

Advent is viewed through the lense of Christmas. Advent Hope is assured because of the Christmas Incarnation, and the Christmas Incarnation set into motion the life that leads to real life. Christmas is seen through the lens of Easter. Easter is the feast of feasts.

I am consoled and comforted this Advent because I am reminded once again that Jesus is coming back to judge and redeem the world. I can trust this will happen because God is faithful. His faithfulness is proven in the nativity – he fulfilled his promise – that God would come to save us. And this is THE great promise – that God would defeat the evil that came into the world – a defeat seen in the EASTER triumph.

 

So, John Donne, you may well be right. The world’s sap has sunk – and sadly we see signs of this decay day by day. But hope…hope is what drives us on. The hope of a Son: a son to save, to redeem, to judge, to comfort and console. A son who came, who died, who rose, who ascended, and who will come again.

A light. A light that has come into the darkness. And will never go out.

 

 

All Saints' Tide

Happy All Saints' Day!!

"The Lord takes delight in his people"

(Psalm 149:4)

It's yet another strange little season in the Anglican church. Indeed, it might be stretching it somewhat to describe it as a season...but you know me, I love a good season, so let's go with it.

All Saints' Tide (the period from All Saints' Day to the day before the first Sunday in Advent) is the last, the end of the Christian Liturgical year.

Now, I always bang on about the misuse of Advent. Advent is not simply about readying ourselves for Christmas...it is about preparing for Christ's return - his second coming. So in a sense you could say Advent starts the Christian year by focusing on the last things.

But in truth, the second coming of Christ is NOT the last thing...not even remotely. For after His return comes the glorious prospect of eternity in God's company.

All God's children will be gathered together and we will dwell, the bride and the bridegroom united. And we the church will be the bride!

So then...this season is the chance to be emboldened and encouraged to remember several things:

1. We are in this together.
We are all God's children. There is always a temptation to be independent, to try and do it ourselves. Our society values confident independence above all. Neediness is seen as weakness.

But Jesus himself say that we are but branches of his vine (John 15:5). We are inextricably linked to one another. We are one body (Ephesians 4:4). So let's have none of this lone ranger stuff.

This is so important when struggling in sin too. We stand in celebration that we are one church, but equally when I move away from church I quickly struggle in my temptations:
"See to it, brothers, that none of you has a sinful and unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. But encourage one another daily so that none of you may be hardened by sin's deceitfulness. Let us consider how we may spur one another on towards love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, but let us encourage one another" (Hebrews 3:12f.; 10:25f)

- Are you prone to skipping church? Ducking out of a midweek meeting? Why?

But on a deep theological level it's not just about going to church, but togetherness across the world and time. Through baptism we become members of one another in Christ, members of a company of saints whose mutual belonging transcends death. We have been knit into one communion, which the All Saints' Day Collect affirms. It's a mutual belonging where we are able to look to the great heroes of faith, and those local faithful witness...and know we stand with them.

2. Death comes to us all
The season does, however, confront us with the reality of death.

And All Saints Tide contains a strong emphasis on remembering those who've died. Whereas All Saints Day focuses on those of the faith, and especially the great ones, who have proceeded us into glory (although we believe they are 'asleep' still at present), All Souls Day - 2nd November - the commemoration of the faithful departed is a day about our own departed. This day acknowledges human grief and fragility "in a way that would hardly find a palce when we celebrate the triumphs of the great ones on All Saints' Day". This day offers an opportunity to meditate and reflect on our own personal bereavements. We can remember friends and family we've lost in prayer.

I know I need this day.

But then there's Remembrance Sunday - a more public, civil side to our remembering. We make particular effort each year to "never forget" the lives laid down for us. Whether or not you agree with the political or militaristic posturing that takes place, we all have a chance to pay tribute to the lives set aside - the death of thousands upon thousands. We are forced to confront issues of war and peace - a reminder of the wisdom of Ecclesiastes that life is full of both.

And through this all my own mortality looms large. Every year I am older, and as Pink Floyd sang, "one year closer to death".

3. We are to be inspired and encouraged by those who have gone before us.
But in the remembrance we are to be inspired. In our pilgrimage, "we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses" (Hebrews 12:1). We are to look to those who've gone before us and be thankful:

"It is a time to be encouraged by the example of the saints and to recall that sanctity may grow in the ordinary circumstances, as well as the extraordinary crises, of human living"

We remember the apostles, the prophets, the martyrs.

We remember the Sunday school teachers, the youth workers, the old batty Christian neighbour who unbeknownst to us prayed regularly for us.

We remember our parents, our grandparents, our ancestors who walked the path we now tread.

We may even remember our children and grandchildren taken before their time.

There is witness in every life.

 - During this season - who's example as a Christian inspires you?

4. There is life beyond the grave
From the pages of the Bible, in this season we also stop to remind ourselves of the promise of the resurrected life. Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies" (John 11:25).
This promise, in a sense, is effected now; we're not waiting to be saved. We who are counted amongst the people of God - who believe in Jesus - who have called on the name of the Lord (Romans 10:13) - we are already saved. Redemption is a work of God's grace; it is God who redeems us in Christ. Although we shall die - we are already redeemed from its power!

- Are you joyful and thankful that you are saved - today?

5. The promise of life everlasting
But it's not enough to simply think of life somehow being resuscitated...no, the promise is much greater!
In this season, unlike the focus on judgment in Advent, we are mindful of the great, final consummation of God's new creation in Christ. We focus on our hope and longing for that fulness that will one day come. The day when we'll gaze on out beloved with our own eyes - not dimly in a mirror.

That's why we have readings from Isaiah 25 and 35 on All Saints' Day - we're reminded that Heaven is a place of abudance - abundant life, abundant wine, abundant food. It is a place of security, with a complete absence of pain and suffering. We are, in fact, looking to the promise of Revelation:

Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,” for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. ² I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. ³ And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ⁴ ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” ⁵ He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

⁶ He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life. ⁷ Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children. (Revelation 21:1-7)

Heaven is where our TRUE citizenship rests. The writer to the Hebrews reminds us that we are "looking for the city that is to come" (Hebrews 13:14)...but please note carefully...it is not Heaven above - NO!

The glorious city of God descends from above - God comes and dwells with us - a new heaven and a new earth!!!


So then.... we have five things to remember in All Saints' Tide:

1. We are in this together

2. Death comes to us all

3. We are to be inspired and encouraged by those who have gone before us.

4. There is life beyond the grave

5. The promise of everlasting life

...But finally, we find that this season does lead us naturally to Advent...does it not?

We also sense that it is a fearful thing to come before the unutterable goodness and holiness of God, even for those redeemed in Christ. When we come to his presence we shall be clothed in garments of righteousness. But this standing before God's throne reminds us that while called to be saints, we are often sinners...and so we come once more to the place where we permanently remember our need for Christ.

We conclude the season thinking of Christ as King, and then into Advent where we think of his first coming to save our sins, and his return to judge the world. Amen!

No smoke without fire

"For wickedness burned like a fire,
consuming briers and thorns;
it kindled the thickets of the forest,
and they swirled upward in a column of smoke" (Isaiah 9:18)

Sin is conspicuous. Certainly, we seek to hide it from God, from ourselves, and our loved ones; but sin leaves marks - stains. All too often in my life I have sought to conceal my deepest darkest sins from my wife, but through a combination of her knowing me very well, and changes in me, she knows - and God knows immediately.

This verse has struck me because of the saying, 'there's no smoke without fire', which is all well and good, and often misapplied, but in my life I wonder if people talk about my behaviour, my habits and wonder about what underlies it. I have often been in the habit of running late, but this has lately evolved into a lax attitude to informing people where I am, and what I am doing. I fear that in not working and living transparently, openly and fairly I am opening myself, and therefore, God to criticism.

This is no admission of guilt - but a sense of how my actions might cause people to infer things about my character.

Naturally, we should seek to please God only, but we are God's hands and feet.

This in turn prompts me to consider other points in God's word where reference is made to fire:

"See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and
the evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the
LORD of hosts" (Malachi 4:1)

"The work of each builder will become visible, for the Day will disclose
it, because it will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test what sort of
work each has done" (1 Corinthians 3:13)

Both verses speak of a future day of judgement. A day Christians need not fear, for we shall not enter heaven, graciously, on the basis of our works. Instead, God will seek to test our works, our offering to Him. Sins and their record will be burnt away, but works of gold, silver, stone, etc will remain.

As I wander through my days, and as I reflect on the lives of countless Saints before me this All Saintstide, am I seeking to build with gold, or am living a life of conspicuous sin, where folk speak not of my godliness, but rumour on my character?