Month: January 2021

Child of blessing, child of promise

Following on from yesterday’s reflection on our calling in Christ, which was the theme for the Sunday Bible readings as well, the hymn for today is a short one, intended to be sung at the baptism (christening) of a child. In the first verse s/he is named as a child of blessing and of promise, one who is claimed back by God who sent them. In the second, the child is reminded that s/he bears God’s image and is urged to listen to God’s call.

The tune chosen is one normally used for a setting of the Creed (the Christian statement of faith in the three-in-one God), “Firmly I believe and truly”, which is appropriate because the parents and godparents of a child being christened are expected to declare their own Christian faith, usually by reciting a set form of creed. The question of whether young children should be baptised before they can express any personal understanding of God is one that still divides the Church. Many books have been written on the subject but let’s summarise it like this:

One side of the argument is that only those old enough to make a lifelong decision for themselves should go through this initiation rite, and certainly people who are baptised as adults or teenagers say the experience stays with them as a foundation of their faith for a long time. Those who support infant baptism (often known as christening) stress the importance of recognising the whole family as being Christian and having a ceremony to mark an addition to the family and the gift of a child from God, adding that God’s call is not conditional on the person’s response. I see the strengths in both sides of the argument, but what seems inappropriate (to me) is christening the child of parents who are not church members themselves and who have chosen friends as godparents who have no Christian faith themselves either. “Getting the child done” becomes simply a cultural tradition with no real religious meaning. Having said that, it does happen from time to time that the christening ceremony, perhaps the first church service the parents have attended for a long time, can be the first step on a journey of faith for them as they consider what they really meant by joining in with the prayers and creed.

But back to this hymn. The last pair of lines reminds the child (if s/he hears it again later in life, perhaps) to “grow to laugh and sing and worship, trust and love God more than all”. That linking of laughter, song and worship is what’s behind my decision to sing through the hymn book in a year. As St Augustine put it, “he who sings prays twice.” Not all hymns help us to laugh, as they help us respond to all life’s events and emotions, the sad as well as the joyful, but if singing praise to God doesn’t sometimes make us laugh, have we really entered into worship at all?

Awake, awake, fling off the night

Today’s hymn, keeping up the theme of light in this Epiphany season, is “Awake, awake, fling off the night”. The light of Christ is contrasted with the darkness of sin.  It is a biblical message: “light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19). Sin and evil are often associated with darkness, because when we know that what we are doing is wrong – and most of the time we do – we naturally want to hide from it.  So most crime is committed at night, or down dark alleyways, or in other places where the criminal will not be disturbed. 

The constant theme of Scripture is that God is everywhere and knows everything we do, indeed every secret thought.  There are no dark places, no hidden corners, where we can hide from God to do our evil deeds unnoticed. As the psalmist puts it. “Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence?” (Ps. 139:7). 

That sounds scary – God the policeman who patrols wherever we choose to walk, as well as being the judge who passes sentence. The good news is that in Jesus, God also becomes the one who pardons.   But as in human relationships and penal systems, there can only be pardon where there is contrition. The first step is to admit our sin to God and ask forgiveness.  Then the pardon can come, and light replace the darkness.  So the last verse of the hymn encourages the forgiven sinner to sing for joy and praise God.

Hope of our calling

The hymn of the day for 15 January is “Hope of our calling” by Ally Barrett.  It follows on from yesterday’s themes of Jesus being called to baptism and service and nuns being called to a life of prayer and work for God, to remind us that all who follow Jesus are answering God’s call.  It’s worded very positively, the theme of hope running through it paired with other positive words (courage, strength, grace, faith and Spirit).  

We are challenged, in the power of that Spirit, to “bring the gospel to a waiting world”, but also to serve in a practical way (‘washing each other’s feet’ as often practised on Maundy Thursday) and to work for righteousness.  This theme links with (and may be inspired by) the Church of England’s “five marks of mission” – to proclaim the Good News; to teach, baptise and nurture new believers; to respond to human need by loving service; to transform unjust structures of society; and to safeguard the integrity of creation. 

That balance of specifically religious work with the practical building and sustaining of society that engages people of all faiths and none is what a living faith should look like.  Christians are generally not to be set apart from society (the monastic calling that we looked at yesterday is only for the few) but should, as Jesus put it, be ‘salt in the earth and a light to the world’. 

The last verse marks this as a communion hymn by reference to the sacrament, and  appropriately draws on the deacon’s words of dismissal at the end of the communion service – we “go in peace to love and serve the Lord”. To which we respond, “in the name of Christ, Amen”.

When Jesus comes to be baptised

The daily hymn for 14 January is “When Jesus comes to be baptised”, the second on this theme – I just didn’t get round to typing my notes until the following day.  Its composition is attributed not to an individual but to a community – the Catholic nuns of Stanbrook Abbey in Yorkshire. Perhaps this is appropriate, for the words of the hymn meditate on the sacrifice (in a metaphorical sense) that Jesus made by coming forwards to be baptised in the Jordan river.  He “leaves behind the years of safety and peace”, to bear the sins of humankind, and eventually to suffer death on the cross. 

Anyone who becomes a nun, monk or other member of a religious community, but especially those who take lifelong vows, also has to sacrifice the comforts of their former years, and to take on responsibilities – to pray regularly, to study theology, and usually to work hard at whatever occupation keeps the community going financially, be it farming, craft work or teaching.  It’s not an easy life.  

But there’s another side to this religious commitment.  Jesus, the hymn reminds us, was also called to preach the gospel, to bring comfort and healing.  There were frustrations, of course, where he preaching was opposed or healing was not possible for lack of faith.  But he must have found satisfaction when the message was received and understood, when the blind could see or the lame walk.  Likewise, nuns or monks find their satisfaction in the worship of the community, in serving retreatants or other guests, and (if they are not in an enclosed order) in work with the local community.  

When Simon Peter said to Jesus “Look, we have left our homes and followed you”, Jesus replied “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or wife or brothers or parents or children, for the sake of the kingdom of God, who will not get back very much more in this age, and in the age to come eternal life.”  (Luke 18:28-30, NRSV). By which, of course, he meant not money, but satisfaction of a more real and lasting kind.

The last verse of the hymn is a Christian doxology (praise to the Holy Trinity).  Perhaps this is because that is the form of words used at Christian baptism, but it’s widely believed that these words attributed to Jesus at the end of Matthew’s gospel were an addition by the community that Matthew belonged to.  They cannot have been used by John at Jesus’ own baptism, because he would effectively have been saying  “I baptise you in the name of the father, and yourself, and the Holy Spirit” which would make no sense.  That doesn’t mean the doctrine of the Trinity is not helpful, just that we shouldn’t see it as something taught by Jesus himself.

The sinless one to Jordan came

For the next couple of days we move on from the wedding at Cana to another Epiphany theme of revelation, that of Jesus being baptised. This was the occasion when according to all four gospel writers, the Holy Spirit appeared “like a dove”, and according to Matthew, Mark and Luke, God’s voice was heard calling Jesus God’s beloved son. 

Today’s hymn is “The sinless one to Jordan came”. After four verses of the hymn paraphrasing the biblical accounts, the focus in the fifth changes to us, Jesus’s present-day disciples.  In singing it, we ask God to let us “go forth with [him], a world to win” and to send the Holy Spirit “to shield [us] in temptation’s hour”.  This reminds us that baptism is not merely a symbolic act of showing we believe in Christ, but a commitment (at least for those who are baptised as adults) to actively engage in God’s mission in the world. 

It also acknowledges that when we do so, we face opposition – as Jesus was tempted by the Devil immediately after his baptism, so we find ourselves tempted (maybe only by distractions, maybe by something more sinister) whenever we set our face to work with God. We then need both the assurance of God’s love and the sense of his Spirit within us.

Jesus, come, for we invite you

Today’s hymn “Jesus, come, for we invite you” is based on the story of the wedding feast at Cana when Jesus turned a large quantity of water into the finest wine.  The story is often understood in a symbolic sense as promising that Jesus would bring what he himself called “abundant life” or “fullness of life” – life as God intended it to be, in harmony with God, with nature and with other people. That phrase doesn’t appear in the words of the hymn, although the first verse refers to “joy restored”.

The last verse asks him to make us “willing to receive” – an important point, that, as God always offers good things but it is we who are often slow to receive.  George Herbert’s famous poem “Love bade me welcome” explores this in more depth, the idea that sinful people feel unworthy to accept God’s good gifts.   

What is it that we are invited to receive, according to the hymn? “more than we can imagine, all the best you have to give, your hidden riches”.  We are invited to “taste [his] love, believe and live!”  Going back to the Cana story, maybe the message is that we should treat Jesus’s offer of fullness of life like a glass of the finest wine served at a wedding – who could refuse to share the joy of the occasion or the sheer sensual pleasure of the drink, and knowing there is no charge to us because the proud father bears all the cost?

In our darkness light has shone

Today’s hymn is “In our darkness light has shone” by Timothy Dudley Smith, another Epiphany season hymn describing Christ as light coming into the world.  The benefits of this for humankind are listed in the last lines of the four verses: “light and life of all the earth”, “grace and truth divine”, “we his name and nature share”, and “he shall lead his people home”.  It’s a logical progression: in him we find enlightenment, through his grace we are led into truth, we become more like him, and finally come ‘home’ to eternal life.  

Having said that, to me this is a surprisingly abstract and limited statement of Christian faith: Christ (the title of the ‘anointed one’) is mentioned once, but there is no mention of his human name (Jesus) or his life on earth. There is no hint here of the need for Jesus to suffer death in order for his mission to be accomplished.  It smacks of ‘docetism’, the heresy of thinking of Jesus as only a manifestation of the divine, and not fully human.  I’m sure that the hymn’s author, a well known Evangelical, didn’t mean it like that. But it’s a reminder that just like the Bible, the hymn book must be heard in its entirety to make sense of Christian belief and experience, and not quoted selectively.

Christ is our light, the bright and morning star

On the three Sundays after Epiphany, Catholic tradition retells three stories from different times in the life of Jesus, which together are considered to reveal his identity.  The three verses of this hymn pick up on those stories.  The first is the nativity itself, the coming of light into the world.  It’s often associated with the visit of the Magi to Bethlehem and the star (i.e. source of light) that they followed, although they are not referenced here.  Rather the emphasis is on Christ’s light or ‘radiance’ which we ask to shine into our hearts and into our world – a world which at this present time needs God’s light more than ever.

The second is his baptism (as an adult), associated here with the love of God (who is recorded as speaking at the time, the heavenly voice declaring Jesus to be God’s son, in whom God was ‘well pleased’ even before his public ministry started).  The reference in the words to God’s love ‘swooping low’ is to the form of a dove in which Saint John says the Holy Spirit appeared to accompany the voice of God.    

The third story is that of Jesus turning water into wine at a wedding, which is seen as much more than a gift to those present at the feast, rather a sign of the transformation that Jesus can bring to the life of anyone who follows him – from the plain water of life without him, to the joyful wine of knowing his presence.  It is that presence, that joy, that we constantly must seek, because once given, like wine, it doesn’t stay fresh for long.

Light, love and joy – the three aspects of the presence of Jesus Christ, revealed at his birth, his baptism, and in his presence among us. That is the Epiphany, the revelation of God in our lives.

Gather us in

Today’s hymn is a modern one, but familiar to me: usually known as “Gather us in” as that phrase occurs three times, but the first line is “Here in this place new light is streaming”, which keeps us on the Epiphany season theme of light coming into the world.  The theme of light recurs in the final verse – “Here in this place the new light is shining, now is the kingdom, and now is the day”. 

The overall theme, though, is indeed that of being gathered in.  The composer, Marty Haugen, is very much in the liberal / inclusive tradition of contemporary Christianity, and makes the point well here: in Christ everyone is gathered together: “the lost and forsaken, the blind and the lame … the young and the old … the rich and the haughty, the proud and the strong”. The light of Christ banishes the differences that have set people apart. 

The third verse diverges from these themes of gathering and light, and is appropriate to include for the communion service or celebration of mass – something that many of us are missing at present in the Covid pandemic with its lockdowns and social distancing. At best we might be allowed to remove our masks for a moment to slip a consecrated wafer, dropped at arm’s length into the hand, into our mouths. But no sharing of the symbolic common cup, only a ‘spiritual’ partaking in the blood of Christ, and no chance of hugging a fellow worshipper at the Peace.  Not knowing how long this will last, my choices of hymns on Sundays this year will include as many eucharistic songs as I can find in the book. 

But the words of this verse remind us that the communion is not only for our own benefit: we are gathered in from our different backgrounds only to be sent out again together. We are invited here to sing “call us anew to be salt for the earth”, and “nourish us well and teach us to fashion lives that are holy and hearts that are true”.  The Christians strengthened by the body and blood of Christ go out as one body to be of service in the world, in the light of his presence.

Wise men, they came to look for wisdom

Today’s Epiphany hymn is ‘Wise men, they came to look for wisdom’.  The story of the ‘wise men’, otherwise known as ‘magi’ or ‘the three kings’ is well known, though tales of their journey from the East are much embellished.  The hymn points out in verses 1, 3 and 4 that the baby they found was greater than themselves in various ways: wiser (as the son of God) than the wisest of men, a better light for their lives than that of the star they had been following, and a ‘gift beyond price’ more valuable than any amount of gold they could bring.  

The second of the four verses takes a different approach.  It contrasts the magi, ‘pilgrims from unknown countries’ travelling through lands strange to them to an unknown destination, with Jesus who already ‘knows the world’ because as the Word of God he was responsible for its creation in the first place (this is another of those unprovable acts of faith that Christians are asked to participate in: that although born of woman, Jesus was in a unique sense ‘born before all worlds’).

One of the claims of Christianity is that while people may think they are seeking God, it is in reality God, always present by his spirit, who is always seeking people and our task is to let ourselves be found. There are several reference in the Bible to God calling people by their names, from Adam in the Garden of Eden to Saul on the Damascus road, but this second verse also makes a point that we don’t know the names of the magi from the Biblical story (the names Melchior, Caspar and Balthasar are later inventions). This point is reinforced in the last lines of the verse: “Jesus, in you the lost are claimed, strangers are found, and known, and named”.   The question I have to ask myself is, when did I last hear God call my name (probably a long time ago) and how can I listen out this year to hear him calling me, finding me, and claiming me again?