Category Archives: hymn

December 4, 2012 · 2:20 pm

Christmas Advice Column: Why Sad Christmas Music?

advent-candle-blurDear Christmas Advice-Giver,

Why are some of the religious Christmas Carols so sad when this is the season of happiness?  I mean, really, “In the Bleak Midwinter?”  Nothing like a downer.  Aren’t we all supposed to be just super joyful right now?  And what does “bleak” mean anyway?

Signed, “Bleakless”

Dear Bleakless,

Here’s the situation:  For much of Christian church history (i.e., before advertising took over the world), the four weeks before Christmas Day were weeks of soul-searching, fasting, and preparation.  The formal name for this time is Advent, which simply means “coming toward.”  So, we are “coming toward” the entrance of Jesus into the world.  The question before the people is this:  “Why?  Why does the world need a Savior?”

Let us think about it and take a few minutes to intentionally enter the suffering of the world.  As a starter, consider the untold millions who are what is called “food insecure.” They really don’t know if there is adequate food even for the day to keep them from gnawing, weakness-inducing, muscle-wasting hunger.  Next, notice the pockets of extreme political instability. We see people sitting on their spark-ready tinderboxes, just waiting for the next provocation, imagined or real, to appear.  Finally, we might look at economic and climate uncertainties. With a tightly interconnected world economy and a fragile and vulnerable infrastructure, the relative comfort experienced by many could realistically disappear within hours.

Now, does the world need redeeming?  Do we need to be set free from the binding chains of darkness?  Do we need healing?  Do we need to connect with people across the divide of intractable differences? Do we need to use our creative minds for the larger good rather than mutual destruction?  Do we need to relearn the rhythms of life, work, play and worship that nourish and fill us rather than overly-stimulate us and then squeeze the last drop of life-moisture from us?

If we can answer “yes” to any of those questions, then music that reflects the deep longings of the soul makes a lot more sense.  Seriously, most of us really do want world peace for Christmas.

So, let’s think a bit about the push to be “super joyful” right now.  Where do you primarily see that message?  Mostly from businesses who want you to buy their stuff, the more expensive the better and, lots and lots of it.  They hold out promises that if you do, you will find utter bliss upon either giving or receiving that stuff.

Certainly gift-giving is a great idea. I don’t want to dismiss that custom.  We need celebrations, and we especially need them as the days become shorter and the nights become longer. We need lights and music and festivities.  We need Christmas Day.

But a world with only lights, and never the darkness to appreciate them, quickly turns dull and unappreciated.

Look at some of the words to “In The Bleak Midwinter.”

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
but his mother only, in her maiden bliss,
worshiped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
if I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
yet what I can I give him:  give my heart.

This song, originally written as a Christmas poem by Christina Rosetti in 1872, was set to music in the early 1900’s.  The words beautifully show both the loneliness (bleakness, empty, hard, cold) of Jesus’s birth and our human incapacity to give adequately in response to such a great gift given to us.

By entering into some of the sorrow of the season, we gain greater capacity to find the delight and joy in it as well.

Merry Christmas,
Your friendly Christmas Advice-Giver

54 Comments

Filed under Advent, Christmas, church, hymn

Tagged as , , ,

July 17, 2012 · 11:23 am

Mystery Worship Eleven: A Missed Opportunity

Note:  this is part of an ongoing series.  Mystery Worship One is here;  Mystery Worship Two is here; Mystery Worship Three is here. Four is here. Five is here. Six is here. Seven is here. Eight is here. Nine is here. Ten is here.

On my first Sunday back in Texas, I decided to attend an Orthodox Church for my Mystery Worship time.

With some research for preparation, I discovered that the Orthodox Church considers itself the only true church, and is not in communion with other Christian groups.  Those who receive the sacrament of Holy Communion are expected to have made a confession in the presence of an Orthodox Priest within the last 24 hours and to come fasting to the service.

I read that worshippers stand throughout the entire, mostly sung, service (90 minutes to six hours in length), kiss icons (women do not wear lipstick), make multiple signs of the cross and engage in both bowing and acts of prostration.

Requested dress code:  slacks, dress shoes, collared shirt for men—and absolutely no hats—and long skirt or pants, modest blouse, minimal makeup, and head covering for women.

I woke on that morning in some discomfort, physical and mental. First, I had worked in the garden for seven hours the day before and had suffered a bit of heat exhaustion.  Second, during that sojourn in the garden, my unprotected feet disturbed a fire ant mound.  Bites everywhere, still tender, and I dreaded the  idea of even the lightest of shoes and a long time on my feet. Third, the thought of going to a worship service where I had little idea of what would happen suddenly seemed overwhelming to me. I feared standing out, looking like an idiot, disturbing the worship of others, and being physically miserable.

Nonetheless, I rose, dressed in a long black skirt and long sleeved blouse, and stuck my bite-covered feet into normally comfortable sandals.

At the appointed time, I left the house, drove to the location I had pinpointed, looked at the people outside, and realized something:  I had forgotten a head covering and had nothing in my car I could use.

The barriers to worship simply became too high for me. Discouraged, and feeling completely worn out, I headed home.

On that return trip, I began to think about what it is like for anyone to come into worship for the first time. The mysteries of worship services, language, customs and etiquette stay nearly indecipherable to many.

Traditional church bulletins are littered with headings like “prelude, doxology, Gloria Patri, benediction.”  We toss around buzz words such as Sacrament, liturgy, soteriology, ecclesiology, sanctification, salvation, atonement, justification, pre-lapsarianism (OK, that one is just for show).

I thought about how much planning it took for me to attend worship during my weeks away. Most places meant either a long walk or a need to catch a train, underground and then more walking to get to the places I wanted to go.

I didn’t know anyone at any place I visited.  I walked in and out a stranger, mostly by my own design.

While worship must not be about our own comfort, it also takes place within a community. Often, but not always, powerful worship takes place as part of a connection of people who know each other, care for each other, push one another to greater godliness, and actively work together to serve the world

I knew that, had I been walking into a known community that Sunday, I would have just laughed off my forgetfulness, ignored my bitten feet, borrowed what I needed, and freely headed in.  But as a strange sojourner, I feared that I might be judged and found wanting, and so stayed away.  It was my problem.

I’ve heard many people say, “I’ll go to church when I get my life together.”  I believe it actually works just the opposite:  the act of worship, of being willing to be touched by God, of engaging in the power of confession, forgiveness, reconciliation, thanksgiving—these are the very things that make it possible for us to get our lives together.

I know I missed something important that day.

2 Comments

Filed under church, clergy, hymn, worship

Tagged as , , , ,

July 10, 2012 · 3:31 pm

Mystery Worship Ten: Redeemer Presbyterian

Note:  this is part of an ongoing series.  Mystery Worship One is here;  Mystery Worship Two is here; Mystery Worship Three is here. Four is here. Five is here. Six is here. Seven is here. Eight is here. Nine is here.

For Mystery Worship Ten, I choose Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City.

This church, begun in 1989 by a group of 15, had recently moved into its first permanent home ever.  About 4500 people worship weekly at Redeemer now–with six different Sunday services.

At this link, you will find the history of this church.

Multiple greeters in the airy and light reception area welcomed me and directed me to a set of stairs which descended to the first floor of the worship area.  I assume there is an elevator, but stairs are just a part of life in New York City.

The large, spare looking room featured descending levels furnished with pews. The pews curved around a large and unadorned stage on which sat a piano, altar table set with communion elements (cups in trays), a couple of microphones, a few simple chairs, and a music stand or two.  No windows, as we were in a basement.  Well lit–bright but unobtrusive lighting.  No ornamentation-just basic functionality.

This area could seat at least 450; the balcony probably as many more, and both quickly filled. More could have been accommodated as there was still adequate personal space between people in the pews, but there were no gaping holes.

The extremely helpful and thorough worship bulletin included these words under the “Worship Etiquette” section:

  • We encourage parents to use the fully staffed nursery.
  • Please allow Ushers to seat you.
  • We appreciate your moving to the middle of the row, and avoiding using seats to store personal items to ensure space for visitors.
  • Seat saving is subject to the discretion of the Usher Captain and Redeemer Staff once the service begins.
  • Special seating is available to those with disabilities.

Also, during the announcements (about 10 minutes in), children from Kindergarten to the fifth grade are dismissed for children’s worship, but they must have been registered first.  Parents pick up their children after the service.

This is serious crowd control–what a great problem to have!


The very traditional service was completely set out in the worship booklet: hymns, with music scores included, all readings, prayers and responses, along with space to take notes on the message.  The very well-known Dr. Tim Keller was the preacher that day.  He generally preaches at four of the six Sunday services, but no one knows ahead of time which services he will preach.  There are two other teaching pastors on the staff and they all work from the same Scriptures and topics each week.

His message title, “The World Will Hate You,” came from the Matthew 10:5-25 passage where Jesus gives ministry instructions to his disciples, telling them to heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the leper and drive out demons.  Jesus also reminds his followers that life is going to be tough–but that they will experience no trials greater than their Master will also experience.

Dr. Keller’s preaching style is relaxed, conversational, somewhat academic, yet clearly engaged with the lives of these New Yorkers who filled those hard, wooden seats.  His almost pleading call for everyone there to be in mission and ministry made me suspect that they have the same problem many large churches do:  lots of people in worship attendance, far fewer involved in hands-on transformational mission work.

Communion, with careful instructions about who may and may not receive the sacrament, a prayer of thanksgiving and benediction ended the 75 minute worship service. The crowds headed out, either onto the street, or to an upper floor for coffee and conversation.

I walked away, having very much enjoyed my time in there.  Yet worship is not for my personal enjoyment, but for the glorification of God, for the hearing of God’s word, and for the change that takes place when the fallible, broken human comes more intentionally into the presence of the Holy One.  I sensed that I had been given just that opportunity there, and received it gladly.

7 Comments

Filed under church, clergy, hymn, worship

Tagged as , , ,

July 3, 2012 · 6:20 am

Mystery Worship Nine: A Tortuous Hour

Note:  this is part of an ongoing series.  Mystery Worship One is here;  Mystery Worship Two is here; Mystery Worship Three is here. Four is here. Five is here. Six is here. Seven is here. Eight is here.

With a generous invitation from my nephew, who has also moved to the UK,  to spend several days in the gorgeous Cotswolds village of Burford (about 23 miles east of Oxford), I was delighted on my first view of High Street to see a Methodist Church–and immediately chose it for Mystery Worship Nine.

The building, baroque style of Cotswold stone, had been built around 1715 as a private house, and was converted in 1879 to a Wesleyan Chapel.

Accompanied by my nephew’s wife and their five year old daughter, I arrived early and we took seats in a high-ceilinged, plain room with wooden floors, comfortably padded chairs, and room for 96 people.  Sixteen attended worship.

Everyone was elderly.  Even I felt like a youngster.  After we sat down, another woman greeted us and noted a small table with coloring books and crayons. She said they “never have children in worship,” but put it there just in case.

The hymnal was Hymns and Songs, put out by the Methodist Publishing House.  It contained words only to the hymns, no music scores. There was no bulletin, but the message board at the side displayed the hymn numbers.

The greeter went to the pulpit at 11:00 and offered a “Good Morning,” welcome to visitors, several announcements and the information that their current minister was being moved to another circuit.  There was absolutely no reaction to this statement.

A young man, wired with a lapel mic, stepped up and offered a prayer.  Never introduced himself.

We then began the first hymn, “All Creatures of our God and King.”  Everyone seemed to know to stand on the last line of the introduction as the music became louder.

We sang all seven verses.  Slowly, sloggily, poorly, and, near the end, somewhat exhaustedly as 13 very elderly people continued to stand, and a five year old wanted to sit.

After some very long prayers, the hymn, “For the Beauty of the Earth,” followed. We labored bravely through it, again catching the cue to stand from the increasing volume of the introduction.

We were not invited to stand for the Gospel reading on the story of the mustard seed (Mark 4)–probably just as well for the already exhausted congregation.

After the Gospel reading, the young man came up and passed into the hands of each person two or three very small seeds. He stated clearly that they were not mustard seeds but did not identify them otherwise, and went into a nice analogy about the potential of the seeds.  He noted that most seeds don’t actually reach that potential, but that nature tolerates all that loss just for the possibility that it might produce.

Another hymn, another long, preachy prayer and it was time for the offering and then final hymn.

It was “Praise God for Harvest of Farm and Field.” The preacher/prayer mentioned that he chose it because it fit with the Gospel lesson and message.  He didn’t consider one thing:  no one in this congregation, including him, had ever heard or sung this hymn before.

We all tried–really, we all did.  But by the middle of the third stanza, we just gave up and let it play itself out, all the way through five interminable verses.  That’s when I wrote the word “TORTURE!” in my notebook.

Afterward, we all gratefully sat down for the postlude and I sent the very patient five year old to the coloring table for the coffee and conversation time.

I learned then that the preacher/prayer is a lay speaker from a nearby larger town.  This church is part of a circuit of 17 churches, who, until now, have been served by four different clergy people.  Now they are down to three, so lay speakers take up the slack since, on most Sundays, few churches will see an ordained clergyperson.

This was a peek at the future for many of our churches in the US today.

Additional Comments:

Of all the worship services I’ve attended since starting this Sabbatical, this was the most painful and most discouraging.  From what the lay speaker said, normal attendance at the Burford Methodist Church is eight to ten.  Burford is a decent sized town–not all that much smaller than Krum, where I live and where there are several thriving churches.  It also attracts many tourists in the summer–the area is beyond words beautiful and there are some lovely arts and crafts shops there.

This is anything but a dying community.  From what little I could gather, the even more ancient Anglican church, located off high street, so not as easily seen, is intentionally reinventing itself to serve the growing number of families in the area.  I was not able to find any information about the Baptist church, so I don’t know how it is doing.

I do know this:  doing four awful hymns (and I think they must use a digital hymnal–I saw no evidence of an organ), long, preachy prayers, and no real pastoral presence is a recipe for telling people, “Don’t come back here.  We’ve got nothing to offer you, no Gospel, no hope, no life.”

What will happen when they dwindle to two or three?  Those sweet elderly people, who have served the church faithfully, do deserve a place to gather and worship.  But don’t they deserve more than this as well?  Worship, the act of adoring the Holy Other, should be transformational at any age.  And this was anything but.

This church needs to be offered a gentle death.  Hopefully, after its death, there can be yet another resurrection.

6 Comments

Filed under church, clergy, death, hymn, worship