My companion stretched out his hand against his friends, he violated his covenant. His speech was smoother than butter, yet war was in his heart; his words were softer than oil, yet they were drawn swords.
The older I get, the more I understand the element of betrayal in the story leading us to Easter. The political maneuvering, the human weakness and fear–it all makes sense to me in a way it didn’t when I was younger. I’ve seen more of what people are willing to do–often for very small gain–so the story makes me sad and afraid, and it makes me feel alone.
This is why I marvel that on that night when he was betrayed, Christ prayed that we should become a community. That our wills and desires, our knowledge and strength should no longer be in conflict, but be unified through the Holy Spirit.
I do not pray for these only, but also for those who believe in me through their word, that they may all be one…
…Try to understand this point. Rational creatures such as men and angels possess two principal faculties, a knowing power and a loving power. No one can fully comprehend the uncreated God with his knowledge, but each one, in a different way, can grasp him fully through love. Truly this is the unending miracle of love; that one loving person, through his love, can embrace God, whose being fills and transcends the entire creation. And this marvelous work of love goes on forever, for he whom we love is eternal.
I heard a great sermon this past Sunday (and don’t you love a great sermon) which began with the story of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet and then moved us to consider the intimacy of being present to others. Being present for others for any length of time can be a daunting, exhausting task–even if you’re not an introvert. If you’re a parent or clergy or the doctor-on-call, you know this. You can’t just turn off your cell phone and close the door to your room. There really is no way to say, “I’m sorry. You’re on your own today.” You can, of course, get a babysitter and go out to dinner, and you can go to sleep at night, but if something serious happens, you will be there.
Which got me thinking about God’s presence. Christians believe that God is omnipresent–always and everywhere (an exhausting thought!)–and I confess I usually thought of omnipresence in terms of oversight–rather like Santa Claus in that “he-sees-you-when-you’re-sleeping-he-knows-when-you’re-awake” kind of way. But Sunday’s sermon caused me to realize again, that God’s omnipresence is also a promise to be present to us, to be accessible, to allow for a kind of intimacy, to allow himself to be known. God will take care of us, but he will do more than that. He will be open to us. He will be present. Surely this is an act of Love.
Christianity Today once published a survey of the most popular hymns appearing in the 28 mainline Protestant hymnals from the late 1800s through the 20th century. This study of 4,905 hymns produced some interesting results:
The table presents the 13 hymns that have appeared in all 28 hymnals, as well as 9 others that appear in 27 of the 28 hymnals, and 5 more that appear in 26 of the 28 hymnals. The average date of the top tier of hymns is 1788 (excluding “O Sacred Head”). Still, wide acceptance of these and other hymns did not come until the middle of the 19th century, after a prolonged contest with the once-predominant practice of singing the Psalms.
When I read the list I was happy to find that all my years of church-going had taught me something, and I could bring to mind all but one of these hymns. Good to know I’ve at least caught up to the 19th century.
I enjoy hymnals and the interesting bits of church history they reveal. Most denominations will produce a new hymnal about once a generation with a lot of old favorites and a few newfangled ones to try out and see if they’ll make the cut. Some songs will stay and some will go, but every hymnal will say something about the time in which it was produced and the denomination that put it together. That’s why so many of us have hymns we remember singing when we were young that we just don’t sing anymore. And that’s why it can be a good thing to go back to older books and sing through some of our grandparents’ and great-grandparents’ hymns. It can give us a feel for their experience of faith and worship.
And speaking of history, I learned the other day that “Modern Worship” (a.k.a. Contemporary Worship Music, or CWM–part of the larger category Contemporary Christian Music) turned 10 in 2008. Given that children now dress up for “90s day” at school, I’m thinking that Modern Worship barely qualifies as modern anymore. At this point it’s practically traditional, with people complaining that CWM has become too predictable, emotionally monotonal, and lacking in creativity.
Meanwhile some folks, notably the late Robert Webber, have advocated for ancient-future worship which views worship as a retelling and reenactment of God’s story. Ancient-future worship is liturgical and often makes use of shorter songs based on biblical passages. Depending on how you think about it, that could represent a return to the counter-cultural Jesus Movement songs, or it could be taking us back to that place in history where the Church was singing the Psalter. I guess that means the next movement to follow will look like the the days when Isaac Watts came in to shake things up by writing…hymns.
The moral of this story for me is that worship and worship music are a bit like a pair of shoes. They’re a little uncomfortable when you first put them on, then you break them in and they fit perfectly–until you’ve worn them so long that they don’t really do their job anymore. One day you look at them and they seem old-fashioned and they don’t feel good. It’s time to try something new. Some styles are classics (think pumps and penny loafers), and others are failed experiments or just fun while they last. But you shouldn’t be surprised to one day find you need a new pair.
Finally, here’s a bit of fun to remind us to keep our perspective, and laugh at ourselves when we need to. Because as long as we keep gathering together, the Church will continue to explore what it means to worship God in spirit and in truth. There’s a lot of new music to be written, a lot of practicing to do, until we join the heavenly choir and find the songs we were created to sing.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.
II. Si iniquitates observaveris
Si iniquitates observaveris, Domine, Domine, quis sustinebit? Quia apud te propitiatio est;
If thou wilt mark iniquities, O Lord, O Lord, who could stand? For with Thee there is forgiveness
III. A Hymn To God The Father – John Donne
Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt thou forgive that sin, through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
Wilt thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sin their door?
Wilt thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallow’d in, a score?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;
But swear by thyself, that at my death thy Son
Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore;
And, having done that, thou hast done;
I fear no more.
Many of us experience prayer as a dialogue which we initiate. We set aside time and go to a specific place and begin the dialogue. We wait to see if God will respond, if God will answer our prayers. But in fact it is always God who initiates the dialogue. It is God who prompts us to seek him; it is God who awakens our hearts to desire to know and do God’s will. So prayer is actually a conversation that God initiates, and therefore our primary posture in prayer is to be one of attentive listening. Rather than asking ourselves how and when we’re going to find the time to pray today, we might better ask ourselves how and when God is going to speak to us today – will it be in a quiet moment, through a conversation with a friend, in the words of Scripture or the liturgy, through the wonders of the natural world? Our role is to be attentive, to be watching and listening throughout the day for God’s presence and activity. Without this kind of attentiveness, we might miss the burning bush altogether.
Today I’m thinking about contemporary hymns, and I thought you might enjoy this interview with English composer Stuart Townend about his hymn “How Deep the Father’s Love.” It’s followed by Benjamin Esh playing the hymn on mountain dulcimer–an instrument that gives the contemporary tune a much older feel, so that what’s new is old again.
MY LORD GOD, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
