More about the Blue Christmas Service

As we in the church observe Advent and the larger community bustles with festivities as Christmas approaches, we all receive a message that we are to be full of the “Christmas spirit.”  That expectation can become a burden to anyone.  There is an unreality in the assumption that everyone is full of joy.  Actually this can be one of the most stressful times of the year.  It can bring financial pressure as the result of shopping.  The frenzy of traffic and crowded shopping malls are at a peak.  The emphasis on family and friends may cause pain to erupt when relationships are broken or loved ones have died.    

Thus we may feel estranged from those about us who at least appear to be filled with the Christmas spirit.  We may feel the pain of darkness more than ever in this season of celebrating light.  Yet rarely do we have permission to express those feelings lest we spoil the party for everyone else. 

To address this dilemma in this season, we are offering a new service of worship—Tidings of Comfort: A Blue Christmas Service.  The service will give an opportunity to name the pain we may feel in this season.  The bidding prayer begins, “As darkness deepens in the world around us, we gather to watch for the light.  Each of us comes with some darkness—some pain, grief, regret, or sorrow—that makes the light more difficult to see.  As the world around us twinkles with festivity, we turn aside.  We seek one single flame: a pure and living light, which alone can illumine our darkness.” 

We will offer prayers of lament, of comfort, and of hope.  We will hear words of comfort from scripture.  The music will seek to focus our longing and God’s presence with us in all things.  Finally we will lift the names of those who are heavy on our hearts.  The service will be simple and accessible to all—one that we can share with others.  Come as you are.  It is Thursday, December 19 at 7:30 p.m.  

Come to acknowledge the burdens you are bearing.  Come to grieve over the painful Christmases of the past.  Come to name the emptiness of this season without a loved one who has died or is now far away.  Come on behalf of others who live in pain in this season.  Come to find peace and healing. 

The Rev. Linda Wofford Hawkins 

Rector  

Tidings of Comfort - A Blue Christmas Service

Tidings of Comfort:
A Blue Christmas Service for Those Who Struggle in this Season

Thursday, December  19
7:30 p.m.

As darkness deepens in the world around us, we gather to watch for the light.  Each of us comes with some darkness--some pain, grief, regret, or sorrow--that makes the light more difficult to see.  As the world around us twinkles with festivity, we turn aside.  We seek one single flame:  a pure and living light, which alone can illumine our darkness.

St. Barnabas' Episcopal Church
4801 Ravensworth Road
Annandale, VA  22003

For more information, call 703-941-2922.

Isaiah 'twas foretold it

I would like to draw your attention for a second to the very first line of the first lesson for this second Sunday of Advent[i], Isaiah 11:1:

There shall come forth a Rod from the stem of Jesse,

And a Branch shall grow out of his roots.

               - Isaiah 11:1[ii]

The same motif is followed up again at the at end of this section:

“And in that day there shall be a Root of Jesse,

Who shall stand as a banner to the people;

For the Gentiles shall seek Him,

And His resting place shall be glorious.”

                                                                           -Isaiah 11:10[iii]

The second verse of a favorite Christmas Carol of mine, “Lo, how a Rose e’er blooming,”[iv] starts off with the title of this blog post, “Isaiah ‘twas foretold it, the Rose I have in mind.”  I’ve heard this song both slow and fast, with male voices or mixed, and it almost always sounds hauntingly beautiful. 

Besides the beautiful melody, I am struck by the visuals painted in this piece of music from the 15^th century.  The idea of a young plant growing, bright green, stretching forth from its parent; the rose, blood red and beautiful; the thorns; and lastly, the repeated reference to darkness and the night.  Every verse of this song references the cold darkness that surrounded Jesus’ birth, and pairs it with a reference to the light, to Jesus. 

Verse 1:

It came, a blossom bright,

amid the cold of winter,

when half spent was the night.

                                                                          

Verse 2:                           

To show God's love aright, 
she bore to us a Savior,
when half spent was the night.

And this, from the third and final verse:

Dispel in glorious splendor

The darkness everywhere

Please enjoy this version as sung by the Salt Lake Children’s Choir found on Youtube.              

- Jeff Schaefer

Member, St. Barnabas’ Episcopal Church, Annandale, VA

Note:  This Sunday, December 8, the Adult Forum will feature Stephen Ackert, Director of Music at the National Gallery of Art, on the Music of Yearning and Longing through the Ages.   

If you feel like there is a lot of darkness that needs dispelling this time of year, please consider attending the Adult Forum on December 15 at 9:15 a.m., or the Blue Christmas service on December 19 at 7:30 p.m.  

---

[i] From the “Revised Common Lectionary: Year A,” Book of Common Prayer, page 889.

[ii] Isaiah 11:1-10 (New King James Version) accessed online via Biblegateway.com (last accessed 12/3/2013). 

[iii] Ibid.           

[iv] “Lo, how a Rose e’er blooming,” Song 81, Hymnal 1982. Available online at Hymnary.org (last accessed 12/3/2013).   

In the bleak midwinter

1. In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Source:  The Hymnal 1982, song 112 (via Hymnary.org)

It should be no surprise that so much of the symbolism this season is focused, naturally, on the coming light of the Lord.  We see it in candles, lights on the trees and our houses, in scripture, and in our songs.  The first carol I would like to share with you this season sounds a lot older than it really is.  “In the bleak midwinter” has a sound reminiscent of some of the earliest carols but was first published in the early 20^th century (thank you, Wikipedia).  The tune is slower than most modern Christmas carols and harkens back to such carols as “Lo, how A Rose e’er blooming” from the late 16^th century and really sounds like it is stressing the bleakness, and the coldness of winter. 

With all of the colors, lights, and the anticipation of children ready to open gifts on Christmas morning it is easy to forget that this time of year is not always pleasant for everyone.  There are many people struggling this time of year and from a variety of causes.  If you are hurt and need support, please reach out for help. 

4. What can I give him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
if I were a wise man, I would do my part;
yet what I can I give him--give my heart.

Source:  The Hymnal 1982, song 112 (via Hymnary.org)

This carol reminds us that God sent his only son to earth to be a light in the darkness that surrounds us.  He is a beacon of hope in the bleak midwinter, when the frosty wind howls, the earth is cold and hard like iron, and even the water becomes like stone.  Sometimes the weather can get us down.  For some the frosty winds may represent financial misfortunes, the loss of a loved one, ill health, or depression.  Let the light of Christ and his living church in to dispel the gloom.  All that Jesus asks is that we love God and love each other.  What can we give him, as poor as we are?  We can give what we can – we can give our hearts. 

Enjoy this rendition of “In the bleak midwinter” by the Gloucester Cathedral Choir.

 

- Jeff Schaefer

Member, St. Barnabas’ Episcopal Church

p.s. – If this speaks to you, please consider attending the Adult Forum on December 15 at 9:15 a.m., or the Blue Christmas service on December 19 at 7:30 p.m.

Simplify

“’Tis the gift to be simple, ‘tis the gift to be free,

‘tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,

and when we find ourselves in the place just right,

‘twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained

to bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed,

to turn, turn, will be our delight

till by turning, turning we come round right.” 

Shaker song, 18^th century

            Simplify.  This may be the key ingredient for a holy Advent and a joyful Christmas.  Every observance has the ability to expand to fill the time, space, and money provided.

            Simplify.  Begin by identifying the Advent and Christmas traditions that are life giving and then put aside the others.  When our first child was a toddler, I pressed myself to make the labor intensive cookies that were the trademark of my family of origin—only to watch her reach for her usual graham cracker.  So I put that tradition aside until later when we all could gather as a team of bakers in the kitchen.

            Simplify.  A Christmas tree continues to be life giving—but more so when taken in stages.  Now we purchase and install a tree, intentionally enjoying it in its unadorned green state.  On a later day the lights arrive.  Yet later the ornaments appear.  It is a tried and true method for reducing stress and exhaustion.  Do it this way once, and it becomes a cherished tradition.

            Simplify.  Reduce the gift giving.  Give to a charitable endeavor in honor of a loved one.  Be the one who proposes drawing names or foregoing a gift exchange.  The time spent together is the greatest gift.

            Simplify.  Leave space on the calendar in these days.  Be selective with time commitments.  Allow time for peace and quiet.  Allow space for serendipity.

            Simplify.  In this season, we prepare for the coming of Jesus in a manger in the quiet of a winter night.  We await a humble coming of the Holy One.  May our simplicity make room for the one who is always seeking to come among us.

The Rev. Linda Wofford Hawkins

Rector

On Thanksgiving

            When our children were young, they begged to invite “Indians” for Thanksgiving dinner.  After all the paper costumes of “Pilgrims” and “Indians” they had made at school in those days, it was clear who intrigued them most.  So we often sought to invite someone new to our house, someone who was an outsider for us.  It was a time to reach out and be blessed by one who was Other.

           

            One year our “Indians” were the family of a physician who had been shut out of the medical referral system by other doctors.  In the early days of the HIV/AIDS pandemic, his office became virtually a free clinic for those who needed his care.  Such generosity can make one a pariah at times.  Who would have imagined a physician as an outcast?

            Early in our days in Northern Virginia, we welcomed the Pakistani family who had just found their way to St. Barnabas’.  They shivered in the cold of our climate and the rejoiced when we honored the birthday of the youngest child with candles on the pumpkin pie.  At the same dinner, we also included the retired dean of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine and his wife, living in temporary quarters at the theological seminary without family to share the day.  It was he who remarked about St. Barnabas’, “You don’t have to cross the globe to do missions.  The world has come to you.”  He also sent checks to my discretionary fund and continued to inquire about his new friends in Christ.

            I used to ask new immigrants to this country what foods they were preparing for this holiday—expecting a touch of Mexico, India, or Ethiopia.  Over and over again I watched a new American beam with pride, listing turkey and all the trimmings.  I have always loved Thanksgiving because it is all about food.  Now my neighbors have given new reasons for gratitude.  These pilgrims from distant lands have broken down our categories of “Pilgrim” and “Indian,” our notions of who came first, our notions of Otherness.  They have given yet more reasons to give thanks.

            It is my hope that this time of Thanksgiving may also become a time to cease to be Other.  As people of many faiths and many origins, may we sit down to a meal where our grateful hearts can make us one.

The Rev. Linda Wofford Hawkins

Rector.