Showing posts with label Carols. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Carols. Show all posts

Monday, 2 December 2013

Coming, Confidence and Candles

I attended the beautiful and haunting Advent Carol service at Bradford Cathedral last night. Many folk love a Christmas Carol service, but there's much more drama in the Advent version, which includes much more of the service conducted in near darkness. This meant that we were required to read our service sheets in the gloom, which initially proves quick tricky, but before too long my eyes had adjusted to the darkness around me and I could read the words to the carols with clarity.

And so it is with Advent.

As Christians we are obliged to take seriously the gloom and darkness that's around us. Darkness of unbelief (often in our own hearts), of sin, of sorrow, or grief, of pain, of loss, of a sense of being exiled in a hostile place, of not sensing where God is...and the darkness of our own death.

But we are called to read God's word carefully amidst this darkness. And one of the places we, as Anglicans, feel we can find God is in the pages of Isaiah.

During this Advent I'm setting myself a serious challenge. I want to blog every day: as a spiritual discipline. I want to really dig deep into Isaiah, and the lectionary has already done most of the hard work by weaving the majority of the book into morning and evening prayer for the coming season, and beyond into Christmas and Epiphany. Indeed, All Saintstide started us off. This means that bookending the Christian year is the glorious vision of Isaiah.

Yesterday morning, we read Isaiah 2:1-5 and I think we see the major Advent themes in these five verses: Coming, Confidence, and Candles.

Firstly, Coming.

The word, "Come" appears four times (v.2, 3, 5):
"In days to come" - a future perspective
"Many people shall come" - a future promise
"Come, let us go up" - an invitation to worship God
"Come let us walk" - an invitation loyalty and faithfulness to God

Many of us pray, every day, the Lord's prayer, which includes the line, "your kingdom come".

Now I don't know about you, but I find it helpful to linger sometimes on phrases or words in the Lord's prayer (this of course is only possible if you're in the habit of praying it on your own (and out loud)). I am always forced to think carefully what I'm praying for when I say 'your kingdom come', for this is not as straightforward as it might seem. After all, how many of us really truthfully want God's kingdom to come now, in all its glory? Would we be embarassed at what God might find?

But of course, we must pay attention to Isaiah. Where he says, "in days to come" it could refer to Jesus' first coming. Consider the promise of one who will 'judge' and 'arbitrate' (v.4). This has echoes in the great promise of Isaiah 9 and 11, that one is coming who will be the judge, one anointed by God. This Messianic hope in Isaiah is fulfilled in Jesus. And maybe Isaiah's talk of 'the mountain of the Lord's house' being raised up isn't so much an eschatological vision, as a metaphor for the cross of Christ?

Advent, then, is about coming: the Messiah born to reign and a returning Lord to usher in his completed kingdom. When we pray, 'your kingdom come' we are praying for both. There is that fervent hope (cranked up to fever pitch in Advent) that God would finally return, but also that renewed sense of how we need the saving work of Jesus, that his kingdom can begin to reign in our hearts, minds and lives.

So what?

I think we respond to this theme of Coming by inviting people to come too.

We encourage our brothers and sisters to keep on keeping on. How many of us have a Christian friend who needs to be invited back to church over the season? What a great opportunity.

But we also invite those who don't know Jesus. We do so much to celebrate but how much effort do we make to get folk there. And then when they come do we sparkle, shine and radiate that joy? Do we speak about the cross and resurrection at Christmas? Do we look to Jesus' promised return?

And I would also invite you to pray that ancient prayer, with all its multi-layered meanings, 'Come, Lord Jesus'.


Secondly, Confidence.

This brief passage is full of Hope. If Coming is the first big Advent theme, then Hope is the second.

And Hope is about much more than our future home with God in eternity - although this must come to dominate our prayers as we reflect more and more on the darkness of our own sin. We see a present hope that this world might be transformed... now.

We see the image of nations streaming to God's city, God's mountain.
We see the image of tools of war beaten to till the land.
We see men longing to worship.

But....(there's always a but)...we doubt it, don't we? We show an alarming lack of confidence in God when we doubt his ability to transform a fallen and falling world. We rob ourselves of hope when we expect nothing to happen, when we accept the status quo. We do this chiefly with our own lives: God can't do anything about this or that sin, or this situation...

Isaiah rebukes this apathy. We are called to an active, vibrant, obedient and confident hope. God has promised to act - and he will.

Isaiah speaks a lot about Israel - God's children. They are the leaving, breathing vehicle God works through and with to reach the world, which is why he's so angry about their sinfulness and apostasy. They were chosen to be the sign of hope, but they failed to live up this.

In the same way, the church of God, the body of Christ is to be that sign of Hope. We are to love and live for God.

So what?

Advent is a brilliant time to rethink how we engage with Church and the theme of Hope. What is it you hope for? What do you long for? Have you doubted God?
Spend some time as you read the promises of Isaiah to consider how you've become stuck in a rut with regard to worship and prayer.
How might your church reinhabit that role in its community as a sign of hope?


Thirdly, and finally, Candles.

We walk in a dark world, but we do so "in the light of the Lord" (v.5)

Okay...this may seem like a really weird theme to focus on, but consider how integral the theme of light is. We have candles, Christmas tree lights, and (where they're still affordable) we have civic decorations.

One of the major differences between Lent and Advent is light. In Lent, we get progressively more and more dark, as though hope is slowly draining, which all culminates on Good Friday with the horror of God's crucifixion. This darkness heightens in Passiontide and is sustained by a season of tough fasting.

Advent does the opposite - we should find ourselves getting steadily brighter and brighter.

In preparing for Advent this year, keen to be 'changed' by it, I got rather confused beginning to see Advent as a second Lent, a second opportunity to be tough on myself; I even considered giving things up (although I'm still trying to ration my chocolate intake!). I think this is also because I've been getting quite negative about my weaknesses. In fact, in a recent interview I genuinely struggled to list my strengths, my abilities, my light side.  You recall where I said (above) that the hope for eternity grows as we see more and more of the darkness of our own sin? Well, perhaps Advent is different from Lent in that we allow more and more of God's light, God's present activity to try and break in now.

Advent is about candles - and candles are about light; they're also about birthdays. Christmas and Birthdays are times for presents. Have you recently considered your gifts? Yes, the gift of Jesus, the light who has come into the world, into your world, but also the strengths, abilities and talents God has given you? This is a new thought for me. How might I use Advent to reflect on the light God has placed in me? We're so naturally inclined to be self-deprecating, to focus on our status as sinners, and not enough on our status as Saints.

And in thinking about gifts/presents, consider how Isaiah refers to the law and instruction - he's referring to God's word. We too have this inestimable gift - the Bible. One thing that struck me last night was how much Bible we read at the Carol service, how much was sung. We too must allow our lives to be saturated in God's word.

So what?

Well...spend time in Advent reflecting on Light. Get a candle and light it in your home, while you pray, while you eat...and let that candle stir memories of birthdays and Christmases gone, allow some light and joy to grow in you.
Also, commit more time this Advent to reading God's Bible. This is a great gift. Add an extra reading, or challenge yourself to read Isaiah, or start to read it with a family member, ensure Advent talk of Christmas is focused on the feast of the nativity, remind people of the Bible story. And have fun with it, make games...don't let the season rob joy from you. Play Frank Laubach's game of minutes - try to read more, to think more about God.
And finally, reflect on the light that is in you. You yourself are a great gift to the world.


Coming. Confidence. Candles.

Jesus. Hope. Light.



I hope and pray this Advent will be a time of rich joy, renewed hope and refreshing fellowship.




[There is a fourth theme to Advent that isn't covered in this passage, though. I think that a fourth C exists - COLOUR. We are aesthetic beings - we care about how things look - and colours are very evocative. The season has a focus on death so you might expect blacks to predominate, but instead we use purple, the colour of penitence. Although we allow bursts of kinder hues to break through, not least on the 3rd Sunday of Advent when we use a pink/rose candle (for Gaudete Sunday). And Isaiah reflects this spectrum. We find ourselves reading of judgment for sin in God's word against the nations (Chapters 13-23) but then quickly shift to kinder more hopeful themes in following chapters. Isaiah is often divided into two parts: chs 1-39 and 40-66: a book of judgment and a book of hope. And death is profoundly both of these things for a Christian - a judgment and hope]

Friday, 24 May 2013

Celebrate, don't just commemorate the Wesleys!

Today is the Lesser Festival of John and Charles Wesley. They died in 1791 and 1788 respectively. But despite their deaths being over two hundred years ago we should not just commemorate them, but celebrate their contribution. This blog is, however, focused on Charles...

As a worship leader I am constantly struggling and highly critical of the many contemporary worship songs written and produced that are unintelligible theologically. Too many are products of the Christian Song Cliche machine...or so it seems!

That said, I have found a 'new' song recently that is as interesting, refreshing musically as it is theologically stimulating. 'I Come By The Blood' by Steve and Vicki Cook (Sovereign Grace Music) is a triumph.




When I consider the number of hymns I continue to use whose words are by Charles Wesley I am greatly indebted to him.
When I was baptised as a 14 year old on 11 July 1993 (my twentieth anniversary is approaching) the hymn I chose was ‘And Can It Be’, which I also asked for at my induction service as Chaplain at Bradford Cathedral. The words continue to move me, deeply.

Our vicar and I both share a passion for the great Advent hymn, ‘Lo! He comes with clouds descending’, a rare song about the second coming and the awful reality of its revelation for those who haven’t followed Jesus.

And there are so many more: ‘Rejoice, the Lord is King’, and ‘Jesus, the name high over all’ (I found a brilliant version of this song by Geraldine Latty on Spotify some time ago).

I often wonder if I should try to write some worship lyrics, but find myself incapable of moving beyond Wesley’s brilliant poetic theology. Good hymnody is more than a catchy tune, it is the poetry, the way theology is conveyed, and the correctness of the theology too.

Wesley also wrote one of the most powerful lines in all hymnody when he penned ‘Love Divine’, in which he writes, “Take away our love of sinning” (or “bent of sinning” depending on your version) it’s in the occasionally sung 2nd verse. I often struggle to sing it; it’s too much, and it gets to the heart of walking as a Christian – the desire to be free from sin means hating sin, not even allowing it to have root. Rend Collective Experiment have a beautiful setting of Love Divine.

And let us not forget that Charles Wesley wrote one of the most popular Christmas Carols, ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’, although for once, there is a suspicion of dodgy theology with his inference of Docetism (‘veiled himself’).

But beside this small matter, Wesley’s contribution seems unparalleled. He remains an inspiration to me.

And can it be that I should gain
An interest in the Savior's blood!
Died he for me, who caused his pain!
For me? who him to death pursued?
Amazing love! How can it be
That thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love! How can it be
That thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

'Tis mystery all: th' Immortal dies!
Who can explore his strange design?
In vain the firstborn seraph tries
To sound the depths of love divine.
'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore;
Let angel minds inquire no more.
'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore;
Let angel minds inquire no more.

He left his Father's throne above
So free, so infinite his grace!
Emptied himself of all but love,
And bled for Adam's helpless race.
'Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!
'Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!

Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
Fast bound in sin and nature's night;
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray;
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed thee.
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed thee.

Still the small inward voice I hear,
That whispers all my sins forgiven;
Still the atoning blood is near,
That quenched the wrath of hostile Heaven.
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.

No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in him, is mine;
Alive in him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach th' eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Bold I approach th' eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.

Sunday, 18 December 2011

Tomorrow, I come...

"Heaven and earth shall flee away, when he comes to reign"
"We shall see him; but in heaven"
"Born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth"
"Cast out our sin, and enter in"
"Fit us for heaven"
We sing these words lots this time of year...

Seriously, we do!

Amidst the frankly romanticised and misty-eyed images of little towns, mangers, sheep and babies we sing, in our carols, some profoundly challenging words. Our Advent carols often carry dark images of Jesus return, but we can overlook the references in the traditional Christmas carols too.

And I think this is entirely appropriate...

Advent (for we are still in it) is a penitential season. But somehow if all I do at the end of the season is pretend that I'm an ancient Jew longing for a Messiah, or merely observing (in song) Jesus' nativity (like Harry Potter in Dumbledore's pensieve) then how, precisely, am I minded to penitence? We must remain fixed on the dual vision of Advent - both of Jesus' coming.

From 17th December, at evening prayer (vespers) before reciting the Magnificat (Mary's song of praise from Luke) the 'O Antiphons' are used. I blogged about this here. These antiphons focus on aspects of Jesus' nature, names he is given. The acrostic phrase, 'Ero Cras', means 'Tomorrow I come'...

Careful meditation on the theme of Christ's return drives us to consider themes of judgment, heaven, hell, resurrection...and naturally our own preparation.

We sing of being ready for heaven, for a life cleansed of sin. With Christmas but one week away, I will spend some time thinking (briefly) about each of the names of Jesus from this acrostic, and how we might be prepared for His return.