What do a 9th century Latin chant, a 15th century French tune, and a 21st century Texas church have in common? Tradition. Deep in the recesses of Church history lie amazing stories. Many of those stories center around songs, lyrics, and song writers who were touched by God in some amazing way. While many of us know the histories of newer songs, there are some hymns and chorals that are so old that their history is mired in the collective dust of the past. On this side of glory, we probably will never know the story in its entirety.
When I was in seminary, I remember reading about one of these songs that has been handed down throughout the ages; O Come, O Come Emmanuel. Originally, this mother of all Advent hymns was a chant used in the late 8th century or early 9th century. At the time, they didn't sing songs like we do today...they chanted them. In fact, in the United Methodist Hymnal we have a translation of the early chant from the Latin into English. The chant would have been 'sung' much like a responsive reading. Part of the choir would chant the first part of the lyric and then the rest of the choir would respond. They would continue the back and forth pattern until the song was finished.
But sometime in the Middle Ages, churches began to have hymns instead of chants. Apparently, a hymn was written in France as a processional hymn. The words to O Come, O Come Emmanuel fit the meter of this tune and so the song could be sung instead of chanted. Sometime during the mid-19th century, the song was translated into English from Veni Veni Emmanuel into our modern adaption. Interestingly, since it is translated from Latin you will come across various lyrics in English (although they should have close to the same meaning).
So why the history lesson? Well, apparently at some point it became popular in churches to sing this song the first Sunday of Advent. That is this coming Sunday. This Advent season Haskell UMC will continue the long tradition of singing this song. Each week we will sing a couple of verses and recite the antiphons together. We will join our brothers and sisters in the faith of ages past in singing and reciting these ancient words of expectation.
advent=adventus=coming
You see, especially in our postmodern world, Advent is an interesting time of year. When the rest of the world is shopping, baking, planning, and decorating, the Church is waiting. In many ways, like Lent, we are being still. There is a sense of mournful excitement as we look forward to the birth of Christ. And yet, Advent is also a season of looking forward to the reappearing of the Christ in the clouds. It's a time with the purples (or blues) of silence. It's a time that we recognize that even though the blessed Child of Mary has indeed been born that we continue to live in a fallen world. Those who know Christ are filled with joy and yet we continue to mourn for our fellow humans who don't.
Perhaps that's why I like Veni Veni Emmanuel so much. The tune is mournful but the words speak of hope. The song is mysterious while the lyrics push us upwards towards God's salvation. Verse 6 (in the UM Hymnal) state "O come, thy Dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by thy justice here; disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death's dark shadows put to flight." That sums up this season of darkness and light. In the midst of waiting and mourning we are filled with excitement that Christ has come and he will come again. Until next time...
+May your season of Advent be filled with watching, waiting, and expecting our blessed Savior.
Every time I move to a new place I love to explore it. When I first moved to Haskell, one of the first things I noticed was the street that runs in front of FUMC. What makes this street unusual is that it is paved in brick.
Avenue F (aka Brick Street)
Now, of course, a street paved in brick is not really unusual in and of itself. In fact, there are many towns across Texas that have streets of red brick. My understanding is that as towns became more prosperous, one of the first signs was that they would begin to pave their streets this way. I've been told that many times the city would employ convicts to lay the brick as a part of their "earning their keep."
What made this particular street stand out to me was that it is the only street in town that is bricked the entire length of the city. Of course, the square around the court house is brick, but this street doesn't go by the court house. In fact, it really doesn't go anywhere. It's just a straight shot down the middle of town, connecting two highways. The longer I lived here, the more people I asked about this bricked street.
As I asked around, I discovered that while officially the street that runs in front of our church is named Avenue F, no one in town ever refers to it as such. In our community everyone calls it Brick Street (yes, we are very creative here). But other than that no one I spoke with had any information for me.
The longer I lived here, the more intrigued I became with Brick Street. Periodically, I would drive through town along this historic by-way and marvel at the beauty of the work. At each ally the brick would go partway off the main street. And at each intersection, the brick is laid out in a different design from the row upon row found along the rest of the way. But then one day I noticed something I had not seen before. In three areas of the street, all on the east side, there were patches in the street. Instead of brick, entire sections of the street would be asphalt.
One of the asphalt patches
My mind began to whirl. What had caused these patches? Had the city needed to tear out part of the brick in order to fix a water main? Maybe something else had happened to the brick over the years and the city had to resort to asphalt instead of brick. I spent months trying to figure out this strange occurrence. And then my observational powers went into full force. One day as I drove I noticed that one of the patches had a border around it. It looked as though at least this one patch had been purposefully not bricked. That really made me think.
Notice the decorative border on this patch
Now I was thoroughly confused (a rather common scenario for me). Why would the patch have a border? What was the purpose in showcasing the patch? My first guess was that originally there was a flower bed or some other decorative item out in front of the house. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized this was not possible. I thought about this conundrum for several months. And then one day I asked the person I should have asked to start with: Mr. Ken Lane.
Ken has lived in Haskell for his entire life. He knows more about our community than almost anyone in town. I always enjoy visiting with Ken and I have a lot of respect for the man. One of the main reasons I respect him is that he is always honest with me. I always know where I stand with him and his opinion holds more weight in my mind than many other people I know.
Anyway, one day I asked Ken about these patches along Brick Street. He chuckled as only he can and said "Those are spots in the street the people wouldn't pay for." I told him I still didn't understand. So he told me the whole story. Apparently Avenue F was originally the main thoroughfare in Haskell. It was the highway that connected Stamford to Weinert. As Haskell got more civilized, the city decided to pave this main highway. But since it was so expensive, the people who lived along the street and who would benefit from the paving the most, were asked to help foot the bill. Each household along the street would pay for the section that ran in front of their house. The three spots along the street were in front of homes of people who chose not to pay. So the city decided that instead of paving the entire street that they would leave those spots blank. Ken said the best thing about those places in his day was that when it rained the dirt would turn to mud and the kids would play in the mud spots on their way to school (but that's a story for another day).
One of the many beautiful homes lining Brick Street.
This one is paved with brick out front.
This story has become a parable to me for community. As Christians, one of our greatest gifts (besides salvation) is that God forms us into a community; a body knit together with Christ as our head. When we do the things that need to be done, when we sacrifice our own wants and desires for others, everyone benefits. We are blessed in our giving and others are blessed in their receiving. But when we choose to be selfish we leave behind scars; scars that can heal but leave behind a mark.
Obviously, I don't know why those people chose not to participate in paving Brick Street. Maybe they didn't have the money. Maybe they thought the idea was foolish. But regardless of their reason, the entire city of Haskell continues to pay for what they didn't do. We continue to reap what they sowed.
In Philippians we read "Therefore, if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort in love, any sharing in the Spirit, any sympathy, complete my joy by thinking the same way, having the same love, being united, and agreeing with each other. Don't do anything for selfish purposes but with humility think of others as better than yourselves. Instead of each person watching out for their own good, watch out for what is better for others."--2:1-4
So as we enter into the Thanksgiving season, let's remember these words of St. Paul. Let's do things without selfish purpose but with an attitude of giving more than we receive. Let's not exhibit selfish natures. Instead let's serve the least of these and reach out into our wider communities, dedicated to being the hands and feet of Christ. And just as important, let's look within our own faith community and see what we need to do in order to make our congregations stronger and more vibrant. Let's agree to do our part and pave our church's Brick Street all the way to the end. Until next time...
Today is All Saints Day. It's a day that we set aside in the Church calendar to commemorate those men and women who were faithful unto death. Men and women who taught Sunday school, sang in the choir, and served our churches in various ways. It's a day that we reflect upon one of the great paradoxes of the faith. On the one hand, we believe our Lord when he tells us that "Very truly, I tell you, whoever keeps my word will never see death." Yet, on the other hand, our own human experience shows us year after year that faithful brothers and sisters do indeed pass away. How do we reconcile our human experience with the words of Scripture?
The answer, of course, is All Saints Day. In our local congregation and in churches of various denominations across the globe, November 1st (or the first Sunday of November) is set aside as a day of holding together this great mystery of the faith. We remember those of our local church who have died since last November. One more time, we announce their names at church, we shed tears, we light a candle as a symbol of the light that they shone into our lives. We remember them and their well-fought fight. We honor them the best that we can.
But at the same time we trust the words of Christ. We recognize that in our humanness we don't always fully understand what God is up to. We don't always comprehend God's activity and how he holds everything together. St. Paul addressed a concerned congregation of believers in Thessalonica who were afraid that brothers and sisters who had died would not be able to share in Christ's great triumphal entry. He wrote to them these words of encouragement, "But we don't want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have died. For this we declare to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will by no means precede those who have died. For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel's call and with the sound of God's trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord forever."--1 Thessalonians 4:13-17
The image that Paul uses here is of a triumphant king returning from a conquest. When a king returned from a successful campaign, the people would line the streets in adoration and praise as he came home (think Palm Sunday). Paul takes this imagery and reassures the Thessalonians that the dead will be the first ones in line to welcome home Christ our King. Then everyone who is still alive will also line the streets praising Jesus' return as King. What I love about this passage is that he says "we...will be caught up in the clouds together with them..." Together, with them, we are united in praise and glorification. Together, with them, we are of one voice celebrating our Lord. Together, with them, we are brought into one family in a great reunion of all saints.
But until that time, we must remember that we are only physically separated from our loved ones. With Christ as our head, we continue to operate as one body of believers...they as the Church Triumphant (having run their race) and we as the Church Militant (continuing to battle here on earth). Our voices unite with theirs in one great exclamation that Jesus Christ is Lord and savior.
When I was a junior in high school, Mrs. Watson taught a unit on land and its importance in literature. We read a couple of books (Giants In The Earth by Rolvaag and The Good Earth by Buck). To cap off the unit, she showed us a movie starring Sally Field called Places In the Heart. Throughout the movie, Field's character undergoes several struggles and set-backs as she tries to keep her land. The final scene of the movie takes place in her local church. As the people take communion, they pass the paten of bread and tray of cups from one hand to another. As the camera sweeps across following the cups, you see people who have played throughout the movie. Some of the people are dead and others are alive. Some have left town while others have decided to stick it out. But regardless of their station in life (or death) they are present together in the breaking of the bread and partaking of the cup.
This scene sums up All Saints Day for me. It shows the truth of life after death made available through the blood of Christ. It shows the amazing grace of God who unites us together in the Communion of Saints. It reveals the community of faith knit together regardless of race or financial status. Through thick or thin, it is the people brought together under the headship of Christ that receive God's grace and forgive one another. That is the great celebration of All Saints. Thanks be to God.
