HUSH! Hear the Angels. A Note from Jan. Jud's Journal Update Fifty.

The 4th Sunday of Advent. Growing up Baptist—“babdiss” in the South—I knew nothing of Advent. That had some benefits.  We got to sing alot of Christmas carols, starting around Thanksgiving. We didn’t hold off like more liturgical churches.

Coming to Advent late made it significant, more than ritual. It slows down the Christmas rush … to a hush. This past month, I’ve read the scripture and sung alone, most nights. Makes me miss the harmony and disharmony of family “commotions,” as my Daddy dubbed “devotions” with our family Alone is possible, not preferable. We’re made for community with each other with God.   Over these weeks of Advent, I’ve sensed a growing restlessness from anticipating, hoping, longing as we sing “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus.” That’s good. Such longing’s better than logging “so many shopping days ‘til Christmas.” Way better.

Tonight at Lessons and Carols at Christ the Redeemer I learned that this service is not hundreds of years old. More like one hundred. The service of the familiar Nine Lessons and Carols began at King’s College in Cambridge, England, when a dean of the College and former army chaplain knew something was needed to liven up the typical Church of England service and perhaps cheer up the many who’d suffered tremendous losses during World War I. Something was needed to help the church break out of staid forms and bless those who’d come to expect “business as usual”; a hazard of more liturgical services. The freewheeling services have other issues.  All this to say—now that I’ve momentarily exchanged a Kleenex box for a soap box—the Lessons and Carols that took root in England blessed me in this corner of NEW England tonight, about a hundred years later. God’s patient.

The final carol sung was, “Hark! the Herald Angels Sing.” My daddy’s name was Harold. Growing up, I thought this was a song about him. The Christmas after he died, I gave a card to Mama that read, “Hark, Harold, the angel sings!” She kept that on her refrigerator for many Christmases.

Tonight, when I sang, I saw old words in a fresh way.

“Hail the heaven-born Prince of peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness! Light and LIFE to ALL he brings, RISEN with HEALING in his wings.

Mild he lays his glory by, born that MAN NO MORE MAY DIE, born to RAISE THE SONS OF EARTH, born to give them SECOND BIRTH. Hark! the herald angels sing: Glory to the newborn king!”

After the service, I drove home listening to a mixed CD. Some pieces from Handel’s Messiah that I heard with ears tuned from Lessons and Carols, “Come unto Him, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and He will give you rest.” And, later, “For unto us a child is born…. and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor The Mighty God The Everlasting Father The Prince of peace.”

No tears tonight. JOY!

Once home I made a cup of tea, then checked email on my phone, amazing invention. JOY showed up.

One of Kate’s Sunday School teachers at Christ Church wrote to say, “We were running late today so almost didn’t take time to pass the cross for the children to pray.  Kate reminded me why it’s worth the wait to make sure we always take time to pray.  When it was her turn, Kate so sweetly held the cross and said, “Thank you God for my Popo and thank you that my Popo is happy in heaven.” No wonder Jesus said, “Bring on the kids!” or something similar.

My turn to take time to pray. Thank you, God, for grandchildren, musicians, courageous priests and ministers who aren’t afraid to try something different to turn us towards You, for Sunday School teachers like Jennie and Brook who tend 4 year olds like they really matter, for candle lighters, custodians, flower arrangers, ushers and all the bell ringing sinners, saints and sick folks who make the church a place many of us long to return week after week, year after year for only God knows why.

And thank you for Jud, Kate’s Popo, who welcomed the discipline of church, a habit of mind and heart,  who loved holding a squirming granddaughter on his lap,  exchanging his need for quiet reflection for her need to wiggle and whisper LOUD secrets into his ear, Thank you for giving Jud and me a chance to do better with our grandchildren to worry less about appearances to shush less and listen more

God, I loved watching Jud rush to pick Kate up at the end of class, eager to listen to her wise words. Because of him and two Sunday School teachers, Kate knew to thank YOU for her Popo’s being happy in heaven. Can’t buy that gift at a maul.

and, most of all, I am thankful for you, Jesus,  the ONE we sing of, the ONE who bids us come to YOU in church or at home in the car whenever wherever WE hide out. sad lonely sick in heart curious disappointed with life, ourselves, others fearful weak confused sometimes self-righteous weary so weary and YOU seek and find us, WONDERFUL, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father Prince of Peace

YOU give us rest and so much more.

Prayer Advent Lessons and Carols quiet ways to press HUSH into this mad rush and reclaim the sacredness of this HOLI day, of CHRISTmas. Hush! Hark! STILL angels sing.