Advent Hymns of Waiting (Week 3)

Advent 3: Modern Hymns of Waiting

I don't know why, but I think I was created with a melancholy streak. It's like I'm wired to remain unsatisfied with the status quo and I look ahead to something more. The way I often experience the space between those two realities is like a deep marrow kind of ache. This is so much a part of who I am that sometimes I just need space to feel the longing, the yearning, the unrequited search for contentment. 

Sometimes I connect with that melancholy by journaling; sometimes with poetry, or a movie, or a walk outside. Sometimes only music will quell the state of my soul. Perhaps that's why I find Advent songs that touch that ache to be so comforting.

The Advent waiting is where we anticipate a better world. It's the belief that this life, while it is not as it should be, is full of hope because God is doing something. If, however, we are to hope for something that will change our existence for the better, it means acknowledging the pained imperfections of the present. That realization - that today is still lacking - is cause for lament for me.

My penchant for melancholy coupled with the acceptance of today's shortcomings, creates a space that finds solace in those Advent hymns that act as lament. While many (including me) choose to sing the upbeat, joyous melodies of this season, there are times my heartsick soul is satisfied only by the balm of a ballad that expresses the longing of the not yet.

This theme of waiting, yearning, longing, aching is nothing new to the human experience. Hymn writers and classical composers from centuries past have been setting that ache to music. The two Advent hymns I have already shared fit that bill. They've been around for a bit. Even still, there are modern songwriters,that also channel that same spirit of Advent longing through moving melodies that connect with me.

This week, I am sharing three songs that fit my definition of an Advent Hymn of Waiting. Each of these songs, in various ways, touch the parts of me that hunger for something more, something better without escaping the importance of today, with all it's flaws. These three songs speak of hope, of better tomorrows, of loving and being loved, of the beautiful mess created when humanity meets the sacred. These three songs find a resting place in my heart as I am eager to greet another bethlehem morning while still thirsting for that elusive peace here on earth.

If you have some quiet moments, take a listen. Maybe your weary soul will find some respite in the melodic spaces of these songs.


Rest written and recoded by the band Joseph

oh holy night 
choirs are singing 
about the good things 
saying light and love are winning 

in a world of 
goodbyes 
crossed lines 
hard times 
bad signs 
headlines are making me cry 

how can I still believe for peace 
what is my comfort and joy 

come in from the cold 
and go slow 
it's been a long and winding road 

rest


Someday at Christmas  recorded by Stevie Wonder and Andra Day

Someday at Christmas, men won't be boys

Playin' with bombs like kids play with toys
One warm December, our hearts will see
A world where men are free

Someday at Christmas, there'll be no wars
When we have learned what Christmas is for
When we have found what life's really worth
There'll be peace on Earth

Someday all our dreams will come to be
Someday in a world where men are free
Maybe not in time for you and me
But someday at Christmas time

Someday at Christmas, we'll see a land 
With no hungry children, no empty hand 
One happy morning, people will share
A world where people care, oh!

Someday at Christmas, there'll be no tears 
Where all men are equal and no man have fears 
One shining moment, one prayer away
From our world today

Another Merry Christmas written and recorded by Amy Grant

Mary's in a nursing home She puts her favourite records on Reminds her of the years long gone Another Merry Christmas Billy's home from overseas The pride of his whole family Still fights a war that no one sees Another Merry Christmas It's happy and sad The good and the bad Someone's up and someone's barely hanging on It's everything all at once And if we're honest enough Everybody wants to be loved Every year on Christmas Eve Jill hangs four stockings, now just three Wonders if there'll ever be Another Merry Christmas Our painted old nativity Is fragile like the lives we lead Silently reminding me God is with us Another Merry Christmas

Advent Hymns of Waiting (Week 2)

Advent 2: O Holy Night

So, I am late with my post for this second week of Advent. Even still, here are my thoughts...

My pick for this week’s Advent hymn is one with which I have long held a love-hate relationship. I love the lyrics, but the message of this song can easily be overshadowed by a poorly matched messenger. This week’s song, O Holy Night should come with a warning label. One that says something akin to… 

WARNING: All amateur vocalists with big dreams and no solid awareness of their actual vocal chops should keep their distance. This song is not to be trifled with.  Don’t mess with it. Do not greet this Christmas standby with so-so vocal talent. Average church choirs should shelve this piece. Congregations? Just no. And soloists? If you aren’t Carrie Underwood, Josh Groban, or Idina freakin’ Menzel - Just. Back. Away. Before anyone gets hurt.

O Holy Night is a favorite Advent hymn of waiting for me, but only under the best conditions. The powerful lyrics be hijacked by a poor performance. So, with fear and trepidation, I name this beloved Christmas hymn as a favorite. (But everybody needs to behave themselves and possess a heavy dose of reality, otherwise O Holy Night becomes a Christmas menace before you can ever “fall on your knees” to beg for mercy.)

That said…the words of this song embody the spirit of Advent waiting and the hope of a new day dawning. This song partners peace and longing in melodic tandem, and invites the hearer to yearn for something more while simultaneously celebrating the arrival of something great.

O Holy Night

O Holy Night!

The stars are brightly shining

It is the night of the dear Savior's birth!

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

Till he appear'd and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary soul rejoices

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

Fall on your knees

Oh hear the angel voices

Oh night divine

Oh night when Christ was born

Oh night divine

Oh night divine

Truly He taught us to love one another

His law is love and His gospel is peace

Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother

And in His name all oppression shall cease

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,

Let all within us praise His holy name

My favorite line is found in verse 1: “Till he appeared and the soul felt it’s worth.” I love the idea that we recognize our true worth when God shows up. 

I grew up in a conservative, evangelical tradition that reduced my humanity to the sum of my failures. Flesh and bone was seen as a depraved limitation, almost as if it was a curse to be in the body on this earth. As a result, I saw myself as wrecked, broken, flawed. None of which empowers me to embrace a healthy and accurate sense of self-worth. 

Somewhere along the way, I defined my humanness by my failures alone. Yet there was a God who took on that same flesh and joined us here. I was left to ponder how my humanness could be such a curse if God not only created it (and called it good), but also wrapped God’s self in it and showed up in Bethlehem.

O Holy Night helps settle that conundrum for me. When Jesus appears on the scene, and God moves into the neighborhood, I see me for who I am - priceless, worthwhile, messy, and beautiful. God shows up in flesh and bone and I know my humanness is infinitely valuable. He appeared and I felt my worth. 

Advent waiting reminds me of the ongoing struggle to embrace every bit of my humanity because being human is good.

Of course, verse 2 affirms the value of humanity as well. It is a reminder that Jesus modeled the ways the Kingdom (love, equality, justice). The line of the mid-crescendo of verse 2 (“all oppression shall cease”) assures us that what Jesus modeled is indeed the path toward peace. 

God doesn’t intend to strong-arm the Kingdom into existence. Jesus proves that when he comes in the fragile form of an infant to poor parents in a region of the world suffering under the cruel reign of the Romans. God’s kingdom is realized one act of love at a time. God’s kingdom comes when we help set people free from the chains that would otherwise keep us bound. God’s kingdom comes when everyone is valued and loved. Period.

Advent waiting reminds me of the ongoing struggle to embrace every bit of humanity in others because being human is good.

We help establish God’s kingdom when we embrace our humanity, and affirm the humanity in others. That’s what Jesus did. He took on flesh to affirm our humanity and worth.  

Jesus came to save us from the lies that would say we are never enough. He came to save us from the fruitless pursuit of temporary riches. He came to save us from all that would keep us from realizing the potential that is possible because of our humanness. He came to remind us that all power is fleeting, except God’s. 

And Jesus showed us that this salvation is achieved not by military might or governmental strength, but by another way. It’s an upside down way that chooses love and peace, even when it means a manger…or a cross.

May you embrace the inherent value of your humanness this Advent, for when we do a little bit of heaven comes to earth. 

O Holy Night by Josh Groban...a completely acceptable rendition of this hymn that leaves me still loving this song.

Favorite Hymns of Waiting (Week 1)

Advent 1: O Come, O Come Emmanuel

I have eschewed social media for the season of Advent. That may seem ill-timed as Lent (the 40 days leading up to Easter) is the popular season for giving up particulars for the sake of something more, but the heart knows what the heart needs. And sometimes, the need for respite doesn’t always correspond with the church calendar.

There are moments when the world feels like too much. Too much injustice. Too much oppression. Too much selfishness. Too much darkness. For me, this is one of those moments. I approach the Advent season feeling as if my heart understands a little more the crying and yearning of the Israelites who were desperate for a savior to arrive.

Advent is a time of waiting, but the waiting is never passive. Advent is about preparing in the midst of waiting; about looking ahead and anticipating a coming reality even while the longing remains.

This Advent, in consideration of the state of my heart and mind, I thought I would share some of my favorite hymns  associated with this season. These December songs are ones that have accompanied me and still soothe my soul during this time of great waiting.

O Come, O Come Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appears

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee O Israel

O come, O Dayspring, come and cheer

Our spirits by thine advent here

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night

And death's dark shadows put to flight

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee O Israel

Oh come Desire of nations bind

In one the hearts of all mankind

Bid Thou our sad divisions cease

And be Thyself our King of Peace

Rejoice rejoice

Emmanuel shall come to thee oh Israel

For as long as I can remember, this hymn was the official invitation to get ready for Christmas. Every December would dawn and the church organist would usher in the season with the strains of this song. 

Even as a child, something connected deep down with me. Long before I could name the ache I carried for this not-yet-as-it-should-be world, this carol - in minor key - gave me the words. “O Come O Come Emmanuel” was the accompaniment for my internal melancholy that knew things were not as they were meant to be. My 11-year old self had no idea what a Dayspring was. I certainly did not comprehend the depth of division among humankind. Even still, this melody spoke truth to me before I could articulate it’s presence.

For every year I can recall, I've had the privilege of allowing my soul to stretch out it’s arms and link up with the ransom plea on behalf of captive Israel. This December is no different. I still lean in close and allow myself to feel the lament woven into the music. Why? Because this world, with all it’s advancements and cultural expanse, is still in need of the deliverance Israel cried out for in the Old Testament. 

The chains that once bound humanity, still bind us. Ancient peoples were captives, and today we are still captivated by the temptations that lock us up. As the headlines of the day scroll, I can’t help but feel we are still a world mourning in lonely exile waiting for God to appear. We still fight the dark shadows. We still are divided.

Advent is a time of waiting, and yet this waiting is not passive. As we prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem, we can also prepare to receive anew the call to the Jesus life. The life that says hope is a reality in the Kingdom of God. The life that proclaims a better way to live, but it comes at the expense of our own agendas, power, privilege, and excess. 

Advent is a season when we can ready ourselves and commit fully to life on the Kingdom road - a road that is paved with nonviolence, justice, equality, human dignity, generosity, and a stubborn belief that it really will be ok. 

This Jesus life is one that invites us to embrace the indiscriminate love of God that sings to shepherds, exalts peasant girls, and saves people of color, transgender teens, gun owners, the homeless, Baptists, Catholics, sanitation workers, dictators, and white people. In spite of ourselves.

Until that life is realized, we join in the Advent waiting. We actively prepare to usher in the incarnation of this life in God. A life divinely designed and humanly peculiar. It’s a life that proclaims that God shows up in a manger AND in every act of justice, in every kind word, in every act of forgiveness, in every voice given to the downtrodden and marginalized.

In the midst of the waiting, we cry out for God to come and set us free. All the while, we press into the life Jesus modeled for us, believing that the God who put on skin 2000 years ago still shows up in and through us today. God became flesh in Judea, and God still takes on flesh in Flint, MI, Cape Town, South Africa and Tijuana, Mexico.

Even still, we live with the ache and mystery that we are both waiting for salvation and the embodiment of that salvation. God for us. God with us. God in us.

O Come, O Come Emmanuel. We still wait on you.

Below is an instrumental rendition of this hymn that moves me. Beyond the simple yet exquisite arrangement, the background landscape is beautiful. Streets of an ancient, Palestinian city while the sun sets. So poetic in sound and sight. 

Find a quiet place. Listen. Absorb. Lean into the longing and be moved to active waiting.

O Come O Come Emmanuel