Longing...

Lis sings in a Gregorian chant group once a month in Stamford. They came and sang a chant at our wedding while the register was signed. Gregorian chant really isn’t my cup of tea but I’ve been a couple of times to try and get it. Stephen, who leads the group, is extremely passionate about it all and is on a mission to convert my unease into sharing his passion! 

Tonight we focussed on the tradition in some churches in the days before Christmas to sing or say an Advent Antiphon. These are sung or said in evening prayer just before the Magnificat. Remember that really the Magnificat is a summary of the ethics of the Gospel which Mary understands her Son will embody. Perhaps I didn’t get the chanting right but the words of them spoke to me especially as this year I’m really really frustrated that Christmas frippery has begun so early.    

Each begins with the acclamation "O" and ends with a plea for the Messiah to come. As Christmas approaches the cry becomes increasingly urgent. I share here when each one is meant to be used.    

 

 December  17 – O Sapientia: "O Wisdom you come forth from the mouth of the Most High. You fill the universe and hold all things together in a strong yet gentle manner. O come to teach us the way of truth."

 December 18 – O Adonai: "O Adonai and leader of Israel, you appeared to Moses in the burning bush and you gave him the Law on Sinai. O come and save us with your mighty power."

 December 19 – Radix Jesse: "O Stock of Jesse, you stand as a signal for the nations; kings fall silent before you whom the peoples acclaim. O come to deliver us, and do not delay."

 December  20 – O Clavis David: "O Key of David and sceptre of Israel, what you open no one else can close again; what you close no one can open. O come to lead the captive from prison; free those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death."

 December 21– O Oriens: "O Rising Sun, you are the splendour of eternal light and the sun of justice. O come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death."

 December 22 – O Rex Gentium: "O King whom all the peoples desire, you are the cornerstone which makes all one. O come and save man whom you made from clay."

 

December 23 – O Emmanuel: "O Emmanuel, you are our king and judge, the One whom the peoples await and their Saviour. O come and save us, Lord, our God."

Advent begins on Sunday. Sunday is Advent Sunday not Christmas Sunday! One church in our circuit has its carol service on Sunday afternoon for goodness sake! We need before the feast a time of longing for that feast to come. I think longing is a huge emotion in the world at the moment. 

People long for a better life, for a new beginning, for health, for love. Surely Advent is a gift the Church offers to people to express that longing. When I was little, we had one holiday (to Cromer!) and you had to wait for it to come and you longed for it to come (until you got to Cromer and were bored rigid as the parents dragged you to Dennis Lotis Sings at the end of the pier!) You saved up to buy things, you received gifts for birthdays, not every day. You longed for special days to come, not taking them for granted. 

We need to remember the longing prayers expressed by God’s ancient people. The Psalter has hundreds of words that are about exasperation. God will act but not in our timescale. Isaiah puts it well in the 64th chapter of his prophesy: “Why won’t you tear the heavens open and come down?” I love the fact the Antiphons get more and more urgent and probably louder as we get nearer Christmas. Ending with “O come and save us!” I’m just wondering after my hour of being with the chant group tonight whether our worship needs more longing in it. Do we allow people the space to express their deepest longings they bring into the sacred space we share as a mixed bunch of humanity as we come together? 

On Sunday, I’m sharing our Circuit Advent Service - note - not Circuit Christmas Carol Service as someone has called it - with the acting Superintendent of our Circuit, Debbie. It’s been fun to put an act of worship together with her. We haven’t a single carol in the thing! I’ve insisted O come o come Immanuel is included, and now in the intercessions, after tonight, the good folk of the Fens will be introduced to the Advent Antiphons! They make for powerful intercessory prayers. 

I watched screaming children today while out and about in Kings Lynn. How parents keep them calm with incessant Christmas in their faces I do not know. The children want Christmas to come today. Waiting is alien. Longing is a reality for them and it gets more painful the longer the wait goes on. We are weeks away from the General Election. We long for a better future for our country and we make our choice thinking deeply about how what we long for might be enacted. We need time to think and ponder before we go into the wooden booth and use the little pencil on its string or we put a postal vote in a postbox. It’s too important to just do it. I’m really annoyed there appear to be no hustings in my new constituency. It’s a safe seat for the sitting MP, the Secretary of State for exiting the European Union! But it would have been good for us to hear him and others...

O come, and do something God! That’s the prayer we say over and over in the season we enter on Sunday. We wait and we long and we expect. And maybe after the longing we will be surprised...

And here’s a little something from a Catholic site that might interest you as I end: 

It is interesting to note that the first letter of each antiphon – Sapientia, Adonai, Radix, Clavis, Oriens, Rex, Emmanuel – when read backwards forms an acrostic in Latin: "Ero cras." This can be understood as the words of Christ, responding to His people’s plea, saying, "Tomorrow I will be there."

Christmas in November

I’ve been joshing with folk this week about how early they are putting Christmas decorations up in their churches! It does seem like Christmas, even in churches begins in late November, well over a month before Christmas Day. We seem to need a long Christmas season that lasts nearly two months, rather than twelve days beginning on December 25! For many, Advent is an ignored season. We are doing Christmas now. 

I’m blogging this sitting in Peterborough Cathedral waiting to hear a performance of The Messiah. Lis is singing in the choir here for it. It’s a mighty work, reminding us of the presence of Christ through birth, death and resurrection. We shall end by standing to share the Hallelujah Chorus. The last time I heard the Hallelujah Chorus in here was walking down the aisle to it after our wedding. I’m trying to reflect this year why people need a presence of something better for a while in dark months, even the biblical Christmas story told them once a year. We seem to need comfort and peace and vast amounts of food to make us feel better. I’m amazed at the size of chocolate bars people buy! It seems this is a long season where we just do anything that makes us feel better. In Peterborough today you would think it is the Saturday before Christmas it is so busy. 

Into all of this comes the Church with a real opportunity. Perhaps we need in these weeks to take time to tell the story slowly. If Christmas commercially and personally is now longer, then maybe we need a programme through it of bringing a much deeper source of hope and cheer into it through loads of carol services and reflections. More people engage with religion at this time of the year than any other. 

 What’s the message people are longing for since they need all of this to begin so early? Surely it is light in the darkness. Just now there was a power cut in the cathedral. A health and safety lady shouted out to the queue for seats “stand still until we get some light!” People in this country at the moment feel stuck in the darkness of uncertainty and need a brighter presence. Hence Christmas lights, German sausage, sugary sweets and mulled wine outside the cathedral attract crowds every day. People want hope and relief from the darkness of gloom and despondency. We have the most important General Election in this country in a few weeks in decades. I worry that people are so disillusioned with politicians they won’t bother to vote. But the choice we make this time will affect so much after we have made it. All the four main party leaders in the Question Time programme last night offered us a vision of something better. I’m not allowed to say what I think - but two of them were really good, one wasn’t and the other, well... God help us! 

Surely the message of the Church whether a cathedral filling up with expectation tonight or this little place I visited the other week on a farm in the middle of nowhere, which has a handful of faithful members, is to offer a permanent light in the darkness that the darkness cannot ever put out. A light that will shine long after Christmas markets and brief encounter with the story is over. A light that will shine beyond the General Election and Brexit and prevalent selfishness and lack of respect that seems to have the upper hand in so many places at the moment. A message this cathedral, the tiny church at Dallowgill, the churches I’m helping in The Fens, wherever we meet and serve from, have faithfully offered and need to share urgently. That’s our task. And it’s a greater message than a bottle of Baileys or endless mince pies or temporary bonhomie. Where do we get our hope. As Canon Sarah has just said because of Jesus being involved and experiencing all of life including the horrible bits, Hallelujah is not just possible it is imperative... 

Retreat time

I’ve been on retreat today and have greatly enjoyed being in community with Steve and Cate who along with their friend Chris have made me very welcome into their home in Nordelph just outside Downham Market. They open their home to troubled or wearied souls, give them space, food, and a bed for the night. I’ve enjoyed walking by the river and sharing conversation at the dinner table and sleeping a lot! 

I wanted to come away for 24 hours to get my head round the stationing process. We will hear on Thursday where we have been matched to for an appointment next September. Any minister who goes through stationing will tell you it is a scary, unsettling yet exciting time. For a while your life, job, family home, everything is uncertain. You wait for the Chair to ring on Thursday evening with a match. You wait for 9am on Friday morning for a Circuit to invite you to come and visit. I have absolutely no idea where we will be going at this point although I’m  relieved there are some good possibilities. In the end I’m under the discipline of the Conference and will be sent where the Church thinks is right. We shall see! 

 

I love that Thomas Merton poem “Lord I have absolutely no idea where I am going.” I walked this road this afternoon. I don’t know where it goes to. But it was good to travel along it and see what was on it to experience: mostly quietness and the natural world getting on with life. I guess over the next couple of weeks I will travel to a place I don’t know, be open to what’s there, take in what might be on offer and see if I and they want to travel together on the road a bit further. Most of the 100 plus Circuit profiles talk about thinking outside the box, doing things differently, having some vision. We need to be brave enough to set out first! 

Retreating for a few hours has helped me see wherever we are sent, God’s people are there already. I will merely be part of the next chapter of a long story of faithfulness and care, and it will be a privilege to join the story and see what might be possible. 

Retreating for a few hours has also helped me see that just being able to enter the stationing process is an absolute miracle! At the beginning of this year I still couldn’t speak for long without coughing my guts up, I couldn’t walk very far without being absolutely exhausted and I hadn’t the energy or drive to think about tomorrow let alone contemplate going there. I’m now back on the preaching plan most Sundays, and I’m beginning to do some pastoral and support work in the Circuit, which feels really good. There were times over the last year I didn’t think I could do this full time ever again because I was so physically unwell. I’m so grateful to the people who’ve walked the journey with me: especially at the moment the good folk of the Fens Circuit who I’m loving quietly getting to know and gently help. 

I found the card at the top of this blog in a vegan shop in Norwich yesterday. It does feel, in many ways, I’ve been growing back. I guess my faith story is one of holding on when it was so really tough. Only now, over a year and a month since I collapsed in my kitchen unable to breathe, and going through what was depression, am I believing there might be a flourishing experience round the corner. God is good. He’s never abandoned me. Because my God does darkness and death and crap, light and life and healing and hope and energy feel brilliant if you’ve walked through those things.

So thank you Steve and Cate for the gift of space and hospitality. Jesus went off to sort his head out. I really think we need to if we have big stuff ahead. The stationing process isn’t facing death on a cross like he was facing, but it’s still pretty mad! Please pray for us this week and next and for those who meet to do the work of matching us all. It’s an awesome responsibility for them and we often forget how much work is done to get it right. 

Night everyone.