Christ of the Carols: Child of God, Love's Pure Light

December 4, 2011

Text: Silent Night, Holy Night

When I was in elementary school, I remember seeing an educational film about the story of the song, Silent Night. The dramatic recreation of events was set in a small village in Austria and filmed in black and white. You probably know the story as well as I do, how the organ in the village church broke down, and no one could be found to repair it. So the Choir Master, Franz Gruber, and the Pastor, Joseph Mohr, collaborated on a simple hymn which could be accompanied by guitar.

It is a tale of adversity was transformed into advantage. Which is probably why it has become an American favorite. We like our legends of adversity overcome. We like to imagine that if it weren’t for the apparently unfortunate circumstance of the organ that went kaput, the song might never have been written. God works in a mysterious way, wonders to perform.

The thing is, no one can find an account of this story that predates 1965.

The hymn was written in 1818.

So this dramatic account is probably a complete fiction.

And yet, we know this is true: God does work in a mysterious way. God does turn disappointment into blessing, time and time again. And that is why the broken organ story will last. Because whether or not it actually happened that way, it is a true story. The story is not truth, but the story is a container ship of truth. It is the vessel that carries a truth into the future.

And that is why the stories of Christ’s nativity are so precious. They need not be factual to be true. We don’t need to pretend to suspend our disbelief in a virgin birth.  We don’t have to pretend to suspend our disbelief  that a star could guide travelers to one particular house among many, or that we could call men “wise” who thought that it did. We don’t have to pretend not to notice that Matthew and Luke’s gospel tell completely different stories of Jesus’ birth, and that two of the gospels don’t mention it at all. Because the truth of the story is not in the details. The story holds the truth. And it is a beautiful vessel for the truth. It is a story richly embroidered, lovingly crafted, polished to shine like gold.

The hymns and carols of Christmas similarly vessels of a truth, a faith, a devotion passed from generation to generation.  Still nacht, heilege nacht, Alles schlaft, eimsam wacht nur das traute hochheilege Paar, holder Knabe mit lockigen Haar, Schlafen in himmlishe ruh. Silent night, holy night, everyone sleeps, no one is awake except the faithful, holy few. The beautiful boy with the curly hair sleeps in heavenly rest.

Anyone who has spent a night with a newborn knows that the heavenly rest could not have lasted long! But don’t sweat the details, because that is not where the truth is found. The truth is that Jesus, like every baby, is born into a world that, for all its faults, becomes holy to those gathered around for the event. Time seems to stop, and for a moment there is no one in the world except mother and child, looking into one another’s eyes for the first time. The rest of the world might as well be asleep.

The truth is that generations of Christians have found in the person of Jesus a God-presence so powerful, so complete, that their devotion found expression in stories and songs that identify that presence as extending retroactively through childhood and into infancy. And so Jesus, the Man of God, became Jesus the infant Child of God. And our hymn for today is a song of praise to the Child of God, love’s pure light. Let us join with our brothers and sisters in Christ in all ages in this song of praise. 

Christ of the Carols: Hail, the Heaven Born Prince of Peace!

Text: Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

                To rise up and sing—this is one of the most ancient and most natural forms of worship. According to our scriptures, when the Hebrews crossed the Red Sea from slavery into freedom, once they had made it to the safer shore, Moses’ sister Miriam picked up her drum and began to sing and dance, and all the people joined her. Across cultures, around the world, people express their highest joy and their deepest sorrow in music.

                In the New Testament too, possibly the oldest verses are found in the Philippian hymn. Paul’s letters predate the gospels—you know that, right? And within Paul’s letter to the Philippians he quotes a hymn that might represent one of the first hymns of the first Christians, and the first attempt at Christology (which is one big word that stands in for many. Christology is about making sense of who Christ is in relation to God).

                In this letter, Paul was trying to correct some bad behavior that resulted from dissention among the church of the Philippians. He said, stop your quarreling. Stop acting all superior. That part is a paraphrase, here is the actual quote:

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

who, though he was in the form of God,

   did not regard equality with God

   as something to be exploited,

but emptied himself,

   taking the form of a slave,

   being born in human likeness.

And being found in human form,

   he humbled himself

   and became obedient to the point of death—

   even death on a cross.

Therefore God also highly exalted him

   and gave him the name

   that is above every name,

so that at the name of Jesus

   every knee should bend,

   in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

and every tongue should confess

   that Jesus Christ is Lord,

   to the glory of God the Father.

And that is possibly the first hymn of the Christian church. Many thousands, or millions more were to follow. Charles Wesley, to whom Hark the Herald Angels Sing is attributed, wrote 6,000 hymns in his lifetime.

Actually, the hymn as it is presented in our hymnal bears only a slight resemblance to the original, by which I do not mean the Pilgrim Hymnal version, because that one too is several contributors and editors removed from Wesley’s original version, “Hark How the Welkin Sings,” published in 1739, almost 300 years ago.  But, that was a common problem pre-copyright law. Once published, an author’s work went viral (as we say now); people picked it up and reworked it and published their own versions. Wesley’s hymn was tweaked a bit more a century later to fit with Mendelssohn’s melody. So what we have today is more than just a Wesleyan hymn, it is a hymn of the church. With apologies to ASCAP, and a nod to Wikipedia, sometimes a collaborative effort produces a better product.

                So, let’s look not so much at Wesley’s original but at the “canonical version” of the hymn, the version we have before us. The first verse is easy to parse; it is of course a retelling of that bit in the second chapter of Luke’s gospel about the shepherds seeing angels who praise God and say “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and good will to all people!” And then the hymn invites us all to join in with the angel’s song.

                The second and third verses are stuffed with Christological references. These verses identify Jesus as the “offspring of the Virgin’s womb,” and “Emmanuel,” and “Prince of Peace,” all references to Isaiah’s prophecy.  “Son of Righteousness” like “Son of Man” is another title given by the Hebrew prophets to identify the one who would come to restore the balance of justice, bring down the mighty and lift up the lowly and vindicate all who are oppressed. When we sing these titles we are celebrating the God of the oppressed. This is an invocation calling on the one who comes to destroy the rule of greed and violence, to replace it with a reign of peace. These titles, Prince of Peace, King of Kings, are political titles, and as such, would be as appropriately sung in an Occupy Wall Street rally, as in church. Maybe more so. When we use these titles and sing these verses we are making a political statement. Not a partisan political statement, mind you. God is not a Republican or a Democrat; God transcends all that. But by identifying Christ as the Prince of Peace we are identifying an ideal to which all leaders should be held accountable. All leaders will fail to live up to that ideal, but it is better to aim high and fail then to be aimless.

The concluding lines of the third verse are a reference to the same theme we found in Paul’s Philippian hymn—a confirmation that Jesus, though he was in the form of God, chose to be born in human form and was obedient unto death, and furthermore that somehow that obedience gives us eternal life. Mild, he lays his glory by, born that we no more must die. Born to raise “the sons of earth,” born to give us second birth. The Christ of the carol is one who does not grasp at crowns, but lives to serve, and serves to give life to others.

So let us be of the same mind, as we sing Glory to the newborn king, or as our newest version reads, “Glory to the Christ-child bring.”

Why the Christmas Story is Good News, and Why It Matters to Me

On Christmas Eve I have always preferred to let the Christmas story preach itself. Carefully placed and rehearsed and paced, read out from the pulpit of this beautiful sanctuary, accompanied by pipe organ and carols, the seven lessons are like seven gems in a filigree setting. What more can one say, but that which has already been said:

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.”

And,

 “Do not be afraid.”

And,

“I bring you good news of great joy. Unto you is born this day a savior, who is Christ, the Lord.”

This story is trustworthy and true. It may not have actually happened this way, but it is trustworthy and true. The Jesus Story is just one version of the overarching story of God and God’s people. It is the story of what lengths God will go to, for the people, to save the people-- to save us from each other and to save us from ourselves. This story is an invitation: God invites us into relationship. We get to decide how to receive the invitation. Whether to receive it as good news, bad news, or no news, is up to us.

According to the gospels of Luke and Matthew, the story of God’s incarnation was received with mixed reviews. The same may be true today. God comes with justice. This is good news. It is good news for shepherds in the field, good news for low-wage workers, good news for the alien wanderer in the land. Good news for the merciful and the meek. But bad news for Herod. Bad news for those who oppress the workers and visit violence upon the homeless traveler. The light that shines in the darkness is not the innocuous glow of the twinkling tree. It is a searchlight, which allows no injustice to hide from God who comes with justice, to set the prisoners free, to bring down the mighty from their thrones and life up those of low degree.

According to God, we are free. We get to decide whether or not to turn and walk back into our prisons. According to God, our eyes have been opened! We get to decide, whether to keep watch and bear witness, to call out when we see suffering, or whether to close our eyes and pretend not to see.

We get to decide how to live in response to this story. Living faithfully, day after day, is not easy living. It is thoughtful, spiritual, mindful living. Fortunately we are not left on our own. We have the church, and the promise that God will guide us. We are in good company.

This is a church that seeks to know and share the love of God which we find within us, and within these stories. We live to be faithful in our relationships with one another, with the church universal, with other people of faith, and with God. You, all of you, are welcome to come and be a part of this church. We don’t pretend to have all the answers. God knows. But we are a safe place to ask the questions, about how to live faithfully, do justly, and walk humbly with God and with each other.

Whatever we decide, about God, about the story, about the church, God is always seeking us out, inviting us in, because God is love; and I hope you will agree, that is good news.

May the peace of Christ be with you, this night, and always. Amen.

The Day the World Changed

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem, as the story goes, most people had no idea that the world was about to change. Day-to-day life continued, as usual. Farmers planted grain, vintners tended vines. The sun set and rose, night and day, the grain grew, the fruit ripened, the harvest came and went, the cycled continued.
And yet… and yet, everything changed. The coming of the Christ changed the world. The one who was born and grew up to be Jesus of Nazareth, who went about doing good, healing people who were ill, feeding people who were hungry, he is the one who “brought down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.” The movement leader who sent his followers into the world to proclaim the good news of God’s forgiving love, and to teach people that love is the fulfillment of God’s law, he is the one through whom we know the salvation of God. This man, who disarmed the disciple who was ready to fight for him, who did not lift a hand in self-defense, even as he was taken away to his death, he is the one who, throughout the ages, has been lauded as the Prince of Peace.
Everything changed. Only a few perceived it. Mary, Zechariah, Simeon and Anna, these are the few who, like human Richter scales, felt the earth move, and their songs are recorded in the gospel according to Luke.
The world is changing. At the dawn of this third millennium of Christianity, the world is changing. Though the rhythm of life remains essentially the same-- we wake, we work, we love, we eat, we sleep—the world in which we live is shifting tectonically. What does this mean for us? How does this change affect the way we see ourselves, and God, and our church in relation to God’s mission in the world?

For Sunday, January 4, 2009

Scriptures:
Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72: 1-7, 10-14
Ephesians 3:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12

Theme: Another Road

Hymns: #160 "Hark the Herald Angels Sing-- Jesus the Light of the World,"
#163 "Many are the Lightbeams," #164 "Arise Your Light Is Come"

The scriptures chosen for Sunday are actually those appointed for the day of Epiphany, January 6th, which is the 12th day of Christmas, and the day on which we celebrate the journey of the magi, their adoration of Jesus, and their departure by another road. The date and the length of the celebration of Christmas was designed to bridge the calendar: six days at the end of one year and six days at the beginning of the new year. The story of the magi is told each year as a cautionary tale, reminding us that a new year is for turning to new roads. It is a call to repentance, and an invitation to transformation.

What well-traveled roadways must be abandoned, and where is the alternate route into the new year?

For November 30

The First Sunday of Advent
Scriptures:

Isaiah 64:1-9 "O that you would tear open the heavens and come down...."

Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19 "Restore us, O God, let your face shine, that we may be saved.
1 Corinthians 1:3-9 "You are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing..."

Mark 13:24-37 "Beware, keep alert..."

Theme: "Where Are You, God?

Sermon title: "Longing for a Glimpse of God"
"Where is God?" is a question many people pose after great tragedy. "Where is God?" is the question that Priscilla posed to her "Faith Club" in the book by that title. Suzanne responded that she saw God in all those people who rushed to help those who were fleeing from the buildings, those who brought food and blankets into Manhattan. "Where is God in the financial crisis?" is the question on the cover of the Sojourners magazine I received a few days ago. Does anyone ask the whereabouts of God in times of safety, stability, and bounty? I can't think of an instance. I suppose that is evidence of our sad state of sin-- we are such self-absorbed creatures.
Perhaps the up side of the economic scare is that it puts us in company with so many others who, throughout the ages, have lived in fear and sought the elusive face of God. We are well-prepared for the first Sunday in Advent.
Generally, we want to rush into the giddiness of Christmas. When pastors gather to let our hair down and commiserate over common complaints, one we can all agree on is that inevitably, we will be criticized for our choice of hymns during Advent. Christmas carols have been playing at Target and SuperOne since just after Halloween, why can't we sing carols in church? Because it isn't Christmas yet, we explain, patiently or testily, it is Advent. Advent is a season of anticipation and preparation. So we sing the somber tones of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel."
In good times, we don't look for God. We rarely give God a second thought. But in hard times, we ask "where is God?" That is just the way we are. So if these are indeed hard times for you, then you are in precisely the right mood for Advent. Let's come and seek God's face, together.