Tag: Carol Service

St Nicholas Carol Service: Is It True?

Benefice Carols – Sunday December 21st

Christmas
John Betjeman (1906–1984)

The bells of waiting Advent ring,
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain
In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.

The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that the villagers can say
‘The church looks nice’ on Christmas Day.

Provincial Public Houses blaze,
Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze,
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says ‘Merry Christmas to you all’.

And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave
To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.

And girls in slacks remember Dad,
And oafish louts remember Mum,
And sleepless children’s hearts are glad.
And Christmas-morning bells say ‘Come!’
Even to shining ones who dwell
Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.

And is it true,
This most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window’s hue,
A Baby in an ox’s stall ?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me ?

And is it true ? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant,

No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare —
That God was man in Palestine
And lives today in Bread and Wine.

I hope that you have been satisfied with the selection of carols today. It is a fairly easy process to choose them: what has been done in the past, what is in the carol sheet, what Niky can play and the ones I like best.

Of course, the greatest Christmas album ever made was in 1979. A Christmas Together by John Denver & the Muppets. Fozzie, Miss Piggy, Gonzo and Kermit – not to be missed. They sing some silly stuff along with more serious carols.

Many carols hold special meaning for people – tradition, memories of school nativities or church carols or cribs and just good old sentiment. All comforting and add to the magic and mystery of the Advent and Christmas season.

We sing these carols and many people love them. I wonder, though, do we really read the words? Along with the familiar pictures of Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus in the manger, the shepherds, angels and Wise Men – there are some deep theological truths in these precious verses.

Is it true?

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him,
Nor Earth sustain.
In the bleak mid-winter
a stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty Jesus Christ.

Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light ;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight

Is it true? Will your hopes and fears of all the years be met in the stable-place? We all have them.

Beneath the angels’ strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring:
Oh, hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing.

Looking at the state of the world today – it is hard to be joyful or see signs of peace. Are we capable of listening (which means hushing up) – not just to each other but for God? Even the angels at Christmas?

I love the characters of the Christmas story – the shepherds and the Kings from the East. We learn from them too.

While shepherds watched
Their flocks by night,
All seated on the ground,

They were just doing their job in the middle of the night. Nothing special – another night shift in the wilderness about Bethlehem.

‘Fear not,’ he said for mighty dread
Had seized their troubled mind)

Sure did! God called them to witness the most amazing thing ever to have happened.

O star of wonder, star of night,
Star of royal beauty bright,
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to thy perfect light.

The Kings, foreign strangers, not the same culture or religion, following a star. I marvel at the curiosity they must have possessed. Faith came later – once they arrived (probably a year or 2 later) to where Jesus was, carrying gifts to be delivered and seen with their own eyes. Curiosity turned to faith.

People are still curious about God.

Is it true?

Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our heavenly Lord,
Who hath made Heaven
and Earth of naught,
And with His blood
mankind hath bought.
Nowell, Nowell

The holly bears a berry,
As red as any blood,
And Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
To do poor sinners good (that’s you and me)
Oh, the rising of the sun and the running of the deer.

Myrrh is mine: its bitter perfume
Breathes a life of gathering gloom;
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding and dying,
Sealed in a stone-cold tomb.
O star of wonder.

John Betjemen’s poem Christmas was first published in 1947. The second World War was only recently over, this country was in the early days of recovery. The poem captures the mix of commercialism and the true religious meaning of Advent and Christmas.

The true meaning seems to be subsumed in the fripperies, however well intentioned they might be; bath salts and tacky ties. Mounting debts, family fights and fallings out – for what? There has to be something more, something greater.

We fall into tradition as being the reason for doing what we do. Tradition is good but it is not permanent; it changes as people come and go. We may long for how Christmas used to be and we may get glimpses in photo albums and church services singing the old songs.

Maybe we are occasionally left wondering, hoping that this tale of the baby, shepherds and kings might just be true. It could be a moment’s reflection brought about by the striking words of a familiar carol, or perhaps it’s a sense of wonder as we hear the nativity story told again.

So is it true?

As we come to the end of the service we will sing:

He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness,
And wonders of His love.

There is no greater wonder than the love of God. It is not arbitrary or conditional, it matters not on the past or the present. It is love that will carry us into a glorious future.

Hail, the Heaven-born Prince of Peace!
Hail, the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings,
Risen with healing in His wings.
Mild, He lays His glory by,
Born that we no more may die,
Born to raise the sons of Earth,
Born to give them second birth.

Is it true?
Absolutely.

Advent 4: Benefice Carol Services

Benefice Carol Services
Sunday December 22, 2024

Usual array of readings… Isaiah, Micah, Luke, Matthew

The Song of the Shepherds by Richard Bauckham

We were familiar with the night.
We knew its favourite colours,
its sullen silence
and its small, disturbing sounds,
its unprovoked rages,
its savage dreams.

We slept by turns,
attentive to the flock.
We said little.
Night after night, there was little to say.
But sometimes one of us,
skilled in that way,
would pipe a tune of how things were for us.

They say that once, almost before time,
the stars with shining voices
serenaded
the new born world.
The night could not contain their boundless praise.

We thought that just a poem —
until the night
a song of solar glory,
unutterable, unearthly,
eclipsed the luminaries of the night,
as though the world were exorcised of dark
and, coming to itself, began again.

Later we returned to the flock.
The night was ominously black.
The stars were silent as the sheep.
Nights pass, year on year.
We clutch our meagre cloaks against the cold.
Our ageing piper’s fumbling fingers play,
night after night,
an earthly echo of the song that banished dark.
It has stayed with us.

God seems to rather like shepherds. They certainly get the most spectacular invitation to the nativity in Bethlehem.

Mary gets a personalised visit from the angel Gabriel and Joseph has his angelic visit in a dream. The Wise Men get their star. The shepherds get their very own angel AND the heavenly host. Out in their field, without light pollution and aeroplane noise, the blaze of the angels must have been dazzling and inexplicable. In the Song of the Shepherds, I read that ‘the night could not contain their boundless praise’.

No wonder these rough and tumble men of the fields needed to be reassured that there was nothing to fear.

The Saviour had been born in David’s own city; Bethlehem. King David started life as a shepherd too. He was the youngest brother and not much was expected of him. He ended his life as the greatest king Israel ever had. God has liked shepherds for a long time.

As soon as the angels disappear, the Shepherds set off to Bethlehem to look for the child. This night was going to be different than any they had ever known. In the opening verse of Richard Bauckham’s poem, the shepherds were familiar with the night, the colours, the sullen silence, the small, disturbing sounds, unprovoked rages and savage dreams. They slept in turns and said little.

The life of a shepherd was likely lonely and isolated. It was not an honourable profession; it was a job for the uneducated and low skilled, those on the margins, criminals and other undesirables. Yet it was an incredibly important job. Sheep were a valuable commodity to their owners. Sheep also need a good amount of care.

We have modern day equivalents of shepherds; think of those people who are poorly paid, unseen but do important jobs that we rely on. The convenience that many of us live with would be diminished without them.

To them the most important news ever reported was given first. The stars with shining voices serenaded the new born world through the least likely recipients. The life of a shepherd was fairly uneventful until one night, one moment God breaks in. This is the big story of Christmas. The arrival, the breaking in of Jesus.

This is the event that changed the shepherds. Jesus is still changing lives today.

I love the final paragraph (read again…)

Later we returned to the flock.
The night was ominously black.
The stars were silent as the sheep.
Nights pass, year on year.
We clutch our meagre cloaks against the cold.
Our aging piper’s fumbling fingers play,
night after night,
an earthly echo of the song that banished dark.
It has stayed with us.

The shepherds returned to the flock. The night as black as ever and the stars are silent once again. Life returns to normal. Yet according to the last line, it has stayed with us.

What stays for you in the Christmas story?

Does anything in the readings and music break into the familiarity and favourites of your life?

Maybe, like the shepherds, we are clutching meagre cloaks. Or old dreams, ideas and plans. Maybe things are a little too familiar and motivation or desire for new things has diminished. Is there space for God to break in?

Like for the shepherd’s aged piper, there is a new song to be learned and played. An earthly echo of the song that banished dark.

In the birth of Jesus, there is a new song and a new hope. As we keep Christmas this year, I would encourage all of us to listen out for the new song. There is one for you.