Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me

Church of St Mary, Hawksworth Wood, Leeds. Built 1935 in a traditional style (see text below)

Today’s song from Sing Praise is “Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me” by Daniel Iverson.  The words are simple – that phrase is repeated in the second and fourth lines, the third being “break me, melt me, mould me, fill me”.

This song, then, is an invocation of the Spirit to come and change us. Not just slightly but completely, broken and recast in a new shape like recycled pottery or glass. It fitted very well the ecumenical and charismatic atmosphere of the Christian Union when I was at university in the early 1980s so it isn’t surprising that the song was popular then. What is surprising is to see that it was written in 1935, at a dark time in history with depression and the threat of war, a time when the Church was not associated with radical change (you only have to look at the architecture of most 1930s church buildings to see this). When the world emerged from war a decade later, some church congregations settled back into their old ways, but others let the Spirit remould them into a new form.

That process of recycling or remoulding needs to be repeated, whenever we get settled into too easy a path in the Christian life or find ourselves resistant to change. Maybe the present time of emerging from pandemic will be an opportunity for such radical change.  This Pentecost let us sing these hymns with every expectation that our sung prayers will be answered.

Come, Holy Spirit of God

Today’s Pentecost season song from Sing Praise is “Come, Holy Spirit of God” by James Walsh. Like yesterday’s it consists of a chorus (or ‘ostinato’) to be sung repeatedly with a soloist chanting the three short invocations.  The ostinato is simply “Jesus is Lord, alleluia!” Why a statement about Jesus when the invocations are to the Spirit?  It’s because one of the tasks of the Holy Spirit is to bear witness to Jesus. In this period between Ascension and Pentecost we are reminded both of Jesus taking his place in heaven as the victor over death, and his promise that his Father would send someone in his place. That someone turned out to be the invisible Spirit, or “holy ghost” as he used to be called in English.

The title of the song is in fact the start of the first of the incantations: “Come, Holy Spirit of God. Come, renew the face of the earth”.  This recalls the Spirit’s work in creation “sweeping over the face of the waters” when the universe was first formed. The saving acts of Jesus are often seen as a new creation, and the Spirit has the same role to play in bringing order to this new creation.  The second is “Send forth your light and your truth. Guide us with your powerful love”.  In many religions, light, truth and guidance are all descriptions of encountering the spiritual reality that lies behind the physical world.  

Finally, “Holy Spirit, make us one. Alleluia, alleluia!”.  Jesus must have known that his Church would be divided in itself, and at odds with the rest of the world, but in his final lesson to the disciples before his death he prayed that we would find unity. Again, the Spirit’s role is to unite us, not divide us. So whatever your own understanding of the Holy Spirit – he or she, disturber or comforter, essential presence or radical force, present at baptism or subsequent gift – remember that the Spirit binds the Church together in one despite our differences, and as the ostinato dies away, that our focus remains always on Jesus the Lord.

Come Holy Spirit, descend on us

Today’s Pentecost season song from Sing Praise is “Come Holy Spirit, descend on us” by John Bell.  It’s a song with few words, as it consists of a chorus (“Come Holy Spirit, descend on us, descend on us, we gather here in Jesus’ name”) and a series of very short invocations by a cantor. 

It is traditional in Christian spirituality to call on the Holy Spirit to come.  Not that he can be far from us, of course, but unlike God the Creator who we assume is always present, or Jesus who promised to be “with us always, to the end of the age”, the Spirit is seen as the person of God who is only felt to be present when the conditions are right.  That might be because there is a particular need to be met, but perhaps more often it’s because an individual or group has been waiting on God in prayer, as the first disciples did after Jesus’ ascension.  Waiting in prayer is something I’m not good at, which is probably why I have rarely experienced the presence of the Spirit.

The eight invocations by the cantor are five titles of the Holy Spirit and three of his functions. Come, Holy Spirit / Breath of Heaven / Word of Mercy / Fire of Judgement / Great Creator; Come to unite us / disturb us / inspire us. The apparent contrast there between mercy and judgement, unity and disturbance, reminds us that we can never pin the Spirit down.  When we call for mercy, maybe we first need to be judged – or vice-versa. When we pray for unity or inspiration, perhaps we first need to be disturbed from complacency before we can identify the nature of the unity that the Spirit seeks or be inspired to follow his leading.

Spirit of holiness

Today’s song from Sing Praise, as we are in the run-up to Pentecost, is “Spirit of holiness”.  I think I have sung the chorus before on its own, but the words and tune of the verses were unfamiliar. The author of the words is Christopher Idle and the tune is a traditional folk melody.

The chorus is worded very personally – “Spirit of God, bring your fulness to me!” that fulness is first explained as “holiness, wisdom and faithfulness”, each of them desirable attributes in the life of the Christian.

The words of the verses cover both theology and practical experience, starting with the first.  The Spirit “came to interpret and teach all that the Saviour has spoken and done; to glorify Jesus is all your activity, promise and gift of the Father and Son”. Jesus taught much about the need for him to die in order that we might fully live, like the grain of wheat that has to be planted so that the next year’s crop can grow, and so it is that without his death (and resurrection) the Spirit could not have come.

The second verse is about the gifts and fruits of the Spirit, offered in love.  There’s nothing automatic about these gifts, but like any other gift they are offered by the Spirit as a sign of God’s love. The fruits, though (love, joy, peace and the rest) are intended, so the hymn tells us, “for our growth to maturity”. There has to be a balance, with the fruits of mature faith allowing people to express the gifts responsibly.

The third verse looks beyond the Church to the “world” (presumably meaning humanity as a whole), where the Spirit’s role is said to be to warn a proud and futile world of dangers. At present the world seems to be more proud – in a dangerous sense- than it has been for a long time, with political empire-building and violence motivated by religious and racial hatred going on all around us. It is just at a time like this that we most need the Holy Spirit, whether as the dove of peace or the mighty wind that topples the proud.

Spirit of God, unseen as the wind

Today’s song is the first on the theme of Pentecost, leading up to that festival next Sunday.  It is “Spirit of God, unseen as the wind”. It’s not a new one by any means, as the words are by Margaret Old who died in 2001. No date is given in Sing Praise for its composition but I’ve known it for a long time.  The music is the Scottish folk tune known as the Skye Boat Song, and both words and music can be found here among other places.

The two short verses refer firstly to the Spirit’s role of inspiring the writers of the Bible “You spoke to us, long, long ago, gave us the written word”, and secondly to his role today in giving us power and strength to follow Christ each day.  The chorus refers to Biblical images of the Holy Spirit – Christ’s description of being like the wind whose power one can feel while it remains unseen; and the dove to which the appearance of the Spirit at Jesus’ baptism and on the day of Pentecost was likened.

There’s not a lot else to say about this short worship song, other than that it can be a useful congregational response to other elements of a Pentecost service.

Word that formed creation

Today’s hymn from Sing Praise is “Word that formed creation” by the American composer Marty Haugen, but set to the old French tune Noel Nouvelet, better known to the words of another Easter hymn, “Now the green blade riseth”. It shares with yesterday’s hymn (See what a morning) a sense of joyful hope, and a catchy tune.  But there are contrasts too. This one is set in a minor key, which might seem odd for a song about joy and hope, but it works (I hope John can explain this musically).

There’s also a contrast in the words.  Stuart Townend takes phrases from the Gospel accounts of the Resurrection and expounds them in a way that’s in agreement with received theology, but also in accessible language.  Marty Haugen works with images that can be found in the Bible, but not necessarily in the Easter stories.  The hymn addresses God or Jesus in different ways, which seem to blur the neat distinctions between Father, Son and Holy Spirit. But maybe that’s the point: God’s work in the divine-human Jesus at Easter is an inexplicable mystery that defies simple description. 

The first verse speaks of God’s eternal being: the “Word that formed creation, earth and sea and sky” which is one understanding of Christ’s pre-existence; but which also brings salvation, and which we can call on now: “Living Word of Jesus, sound within us all”.

The second verse addresses God as “Love that formed and named us, filled this clay with breath, love that seeks and claims us, love beyond all death”. That God is not remote but should seek and claim us is part of the Gospel message. Here we call on the “Love that raised up Jesus [to] raise us up anew”.

The third verse seems to address the Holy Spirit, “Song of joy and wonder, sound so wild and free, voice of wind and thunder, boundless as the sea”.  Here we call on the “song that sang in Jesus [to] sing within us here”. I’m reminded of Calvin Miller’s allegory of Jesus in “The Singer” which our work book group studied last year.   The last verse, more clearly Trinitarian in structure, summarises the above: God of creation, salvation and inspiration.

Holy Spirit, come to us

Today’s hymn from “Sing Praise” is another Taizé chant with verses sung by a cantor over a repeated chorus.  The chorus line is “Holy Spirit, come to us, kindle in us the fire of your love, Holy Spirit come to us, Holy Spirit, come to us”.  There’s also a version in Latin, a language still used in Christian worship and understood across many European cultures.


Holy Spirit and Fire, mixed media, Beverly Guilliams

The six short chants are all Bible verses about love. The first three are sayings of Jesus: “I give you a new commandment. Love one another just as I have loved you”; “It is by your love for one another that everyone will recognise you as my disciples”; and “No-one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for those one loves”.   These represent a progression in depth of love: the love between members of the same church which in practice may be hard to distinguish from the camaraderie and common purpose found in any healthy group; demonstrating that love to people outside the church in a way that they recognise to be distinctive; and finally the challenge to love others more than ourselves even if it should cost us our own life.  

The last three are sayings about God’s love rather than ours: “We know love by this, that Christ laid down his life for us”; “This is love, it is not we who have loved God but God who loved us”; and “God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God and God in them”. The answer to the question “how can I love in a way that might even lead to accepting my own death for someone else’s sake?” is that only the love of God makes this possible. Again it’s a progression, from observing the sacrificial love of Jesus Christ, to accepting God’s love for us personally which then makes it easier to love others, to letting God’s love “abide in us and we in him”.

What’s the connection between the six sayings about love, and the chorus calling on the Holy Spirit, who is not named in the Bible verses? Here’s one way of looking at it (I’m sure there are others equally valid): We can easily believe in a loving God as an intellectual proposition, and in Jesus as a historical figure who demonstrated God’s love in action to the point of death, but still find it difficult to love others in an equally sacrificial way.  The Holy Spirit is sometimes understood as God’s way of putting his love into our hearts, stirring the individual believer to love and action.   When Jesus promised that God would send the Holy Spirit after his death and resurrection, he described the Spirit as a ‘helper’ or advocate’ who would ‘abide in you’ (John 14:16-17).  Without the Spirit, it’s difficult to love people, with all their faults.  With the Spirit in us, God’s love works through us to make us love other people in the way God does – for who they are, not what they do.

That takes us back to the central acclamation of the chorus: “kindle in us the fire of your love” or “tui amoris ignem accende”.  The link between the Spirit and Fire is a Biblical one, from John the Baptist’s prophecy that Jesus would “baptise with the Holy Spirit and fire” and the day of Pentecost when the Spirit appeared as “tongues of fire”. That fire sometimes takes a long time to get going again, especially if the embers have gone cold, but the Spirit’s job is to ignite it. Come, Holy Spirit!

Slower than Butterflies

This post is based on a prayer session that I led today.  The title comes from a book of meditations by Eddie Askew, and the idea is that to appreciate God’s presence we need to be moving at a pace ‘slower than butterflies’.

During the Covid-19 lockdown I have been doing more walking, and more photography than usual.  I do love photographing butterflies, but it requires patience.  Although they don’t fly fast, they rarely stay in one place for more than a few seconds.  You have to stay around, observing them carefully and moving in slowly and quietly with the camera to get a good photo.

So here are some of my butterfly photographs, with some Biblical reflections about living slowly.

Small tortoiseshell

This is a small tortoiseshell, photographed on a riverbank – a very quiet place away from the noise of traffic.  We often need to find somewhere quiet to slow down and experience God in the silence.   The Prophet Elijah found this when he fled to a cave in the desert to escape persecution, in words that you may recognise from a well known hymn..

Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, ‘What are you doing here, Elijah?’ (1 Kings 19:11-15)

Ringlet

This is a ringlet, photographed alongside a footpath across farmland.  Sometimes you have to look long and carefully to spot the butterfly, especially a dull coloured one like this, and only see it clearly for a moment before it flutters away.  That’s a bit like the Holy Spirit of God – often we only have a brief experience of the Spirit before she seems to flutter away again. But even that brief experience may send us away rejoicing.  Perhaps that’s what St John had in mind when he wrote the following letter.  The word for “looked at” implies a lingering gaze rather than  a brief glimpse, reminding us that the wait may be long before the experience arrives.

We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life— this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us— we declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. We are writing these things so that our joy may be complete. (1 John 1:1-4)

Skipper

This is a skipper, feeding on knapweed.  Butterflies and other insects have a symbiotic relationship with flowers – the insects feed on nectar, while they in turn pollinate other flowers, and so both species can continue to flourish.  Jesus spoke of how birds and flowers depend on God for their existence without worrying –

Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?  And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? (Matthew 6:26-30)

Cabbage White

This cabbage white butterfly was basking on ballast on a railway line – a hot, dry and potentially dangerous environment with no source of food.  But  we can still find God even in places that seem a long way from a comfortable life, in the “valley of darkness” as well as the “green pastures”, as Psalm 23 reminds us –

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths
for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff—
they comfort me.
(Psalm 23:1-4)

Speckled Wood

I found this speckled wood butterfly in a country churchyard.  The mound of earth may well have come from a recently dug grave.  As an old Christian proverb says, “In the midst of life we are in death”.  But butterflies are often held up as a parable of the resurrection: the earthbound caterpillar effectively dies as it turns into a chrysalis, which after a while yields the gloriously coloured, flighty creature that in its previous existence could not have imagined the glory that was to come. As Jesus explained –

Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. (John 12:24)

So take some time today to slow down to butterfly pace, appreciate the silence, look for the signs of God in the natural world, trust Him for your material needs, and remember that beyond suffering and death will be the unimagined wonder of the world to come.

Cornish

A grayling butterfly, seen on the Cornish coast path.

May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun.
And find your shoulder to light on.
To bring you luck, happiness, and riches.
Today, tomorrow, and beyond.
            (an anonymous Irish blessing)

Copyright  (c) Stephen Craven 2020.  Quotations from New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicized Edition, copyright © 1989, 1995 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America.

The Bible in a Year -18 December

If this is your first viewing, please see my Introduction before reading this.

18 December. John chapters 3-4

It is often claimed that John 3:16 is the best known verse in the whole Bible – “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”  I’m not so sure – in a largely secular world where many people only come across the Christian message through Nativity plays and Christmas carols, something like “And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn” (Luke 2:7) is probably better known.

Be that as it may, the message in John 3:16 is an important one.  At the core of the Bible story is God’s love for humanity. Love so strong that it endures any number of rejections.  Love so strong that it is willing to put up with pain, humiliation and rejection.  Love so strong that it could go through the apparent finality of death and come out triumphant the other side.  And where Jesus led, entering eternal life, those who follow him can also expect to go. Hence the bit about not perishing.  Yes, we will die physically, but spiritually we can gain this “eternal life” here and now, and know that it will survive death.

That is what Jesus also managed to convey, in a different way, to the Samaritan woman.  Here was someone probably rejected by her neighbours because of her multiple marriages (to have had five husbands and now be living with another man suggests that she was not the innocent party in the failure of all those marriages).   She knew what it was to be thirsty for a stable relationship, for someone to whom she could finally commit herself.  Jesus offered to satisfy that thirst – not with another sexual relationship but with one based on a deeper kind of love, that heavenly love of unquestioning acceptance, long-suffering and unending commitment. “Those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” (4:14).

Jesus also tries to explain it to Nicodemus.  He should have known better – Jesus calls him a “teacher of Israel” who knew the scriptures far better than a Samaritan woman.  But Nicodemus does not understand about being “born again”, taking it too literally.  So Jesus puts it another way – “I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit” (3:5).  Our physical life come from our earthly parents in the form of a baby’s body, as Nicodemus says, and as the Virgin Mary experienced when Jesus himself was born, but our spiritual life comes from our heavenly parent in the form of a spirit.  And the life of the spirit has to be fed to keep growing in us just as our physical bodies require regular food to grow to adulthood.

So we have different ways of looking at the gift of God’s love – in the physical form of his Son, in a lasting relationship with him that feels like an endless supply of fresh water, or in a spiritual rebirth. All of those came together for Mary as she laid her newborn, special bay in the manger.  She gazed on the very form of God, entering into a lifelong an unique relationship with him as mother, that would lead to the cross and empty tomb. Maybe it was only at that moment that she understood fully the angel’s message at the moment of conception: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God.”

The Bible in a Year – 17 December

If this is your first viewing, please see my Introduction before reading this.

17 December. John chapters 1-2

John, as is well known, orders the material in his Gospel differently from Mark, Matthew or Luke – he is not telling the story of Jesus necessarily in the order things happened, and pays no attention at all to the birth or parentage of Jesus. Instead he selects those scenes that he thinks most important and orders them in a symbolic way.  The first two chapters are like an overture or the brief scenes at the start of a movie before the credits, that give an idea of the plot that is to follow.

This evening, churches across England including my own will have a service of “lessons and carols” – Bible readings and hymns or other music selected to tell the story of Jesus, focusing on his birth.  By tradition the last reading is the beginning of this Gospel, with its mysterious description of Jesus as “the Word” who existed in the beginning, even before the creation of the world, but became flesh as a man.  Over the next two weeks, our readings in church will include other passages from these chapters – this morning, the third Sunday in Advent, the theme was John the Baptiser; and the story of the wedding at Cana where Jesus turned water into fine wine is read at Epiphany, usually the first Sunday of the new year.

All these are understood to be among the “signs” that John is presenting: events that point towards who Jesus really is, rather than stating it directly.  The nativity itself is the first and greatest of these signs. The angels and the mysterious star that Luke and Matthew tell us about, respectively, were also signs that led shepherds and magi to Bethlehem to see this greater sign – that God had appeared as an ordinary human being.

John’s ministry of baptism was, as he told anyone who would listen, also only a sign of something greater – baptism in water signifying repentance was only about preparing oneself to receive the gift of the Holy Spirit that Jesus would offer (but only at Pentecost, after his resurrection). And the miracle at Cana was not so much about just keeping a party going, as an example of the abundance of life that Jesus came to bring.  The one who could draw water from a well and turn it into wine would, as we will see tomorrow, also draw water from another well and turn it into a means of forgiveness, reconciliation and healing.

As John tells us, “many believed in his name because they saw the signs that he was doing” (2:21).  Are there enough signs here for you to believe?