ANGLICAN TAONGA
ADVENT 2014
ADVENT
Hymnwriter Marnie Barrell delights in the power of Advent hymns to ready us for Jesus’ birth
Drop down
ye heavens
M
usic, like perfume, can go straight to the heart. It evokes strong memories. The opening notes of an Advent hymn can pitch me straight into this season of hopeful, reflective waiting. Haunting tunes and powerful themes help us ponder the beginning of the Church’s story and of our new year. This return to Advent is circular, but never repetitive. We are not exactly who we were in 2013 and we sing the familiar lines with different joys, hopes and sorrows. Out there, the shops are already jangling O come all ye faithful, before we’ve started O come, O come Emmanuel. Wait! We’re not there yet. We need this precious time before commercial craziness sets in – to slow down, simplify and steady our lives. We need to mourn the gap between what is and what should be – to name and lament what’s wrong in the world and our own share in it. We need to rekindle our hope that God is near, and that things are not necessarily as they seem. Advent hymns bring all of this home to our spirits.
Faith looks beyond the obvious – to find God’s perspective.
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Auckland's Holy Trinity Cathedral choir sing for the opening Eucharist of the Anglican Consultative Council meeting in 2012.
Some wistfully acknowledge the painful distance between what we see and hope for, while others retell the stories and explore their meaning. As we sing, we revisit the extraordinary story of the incarnation, lovingly depicting Mary, Joseph and the angel. In the Magnificat, we share Mary’s joyful proclamation of the new covenant. We defy injustice and evil as we hail the Lord’s anointed coming to set the captives free, coming in the fullness of time to restore all things. Every song points to God’s purposes in history, found in the events and people that never make the headlines. Our hymns proclaim how, then and now, God’s action is what was promised and hoped for – but not what the untrained eye might see. Images of Madonna and child that glow with inner light, surrounded by angels and reverent visitors, are a triumph of insight over appearances. The apparent facts – the child of a disgraced peasant woman, born in a borrowed shed, hunted down by the local tyrant – are obvious enough, but faith looks beyond the obvious to find God’s perspective. Our Christmas card nativities rightly proclaim what was really happening, not what a camera might have recorded.
That’s why we need Advent, before Christmas bursts upon us. It takes the time, readings, music and prayer to recognize that even the grimmest events, rightly perceived, can tell us something new about God’s loving presence. It takes spiritual discipline to recalibrate our minds to God’s surprising ways of being with us, and to spot the signs in our lives. Without that hard-won perception of what’s needed and how God meets the need, why would all ye faithful come joyful and triumphant, to adore the newborn Christ? They may have already decked the malls with holly, but we’re listening to a much more subtle music – songs of ageold yearning for God, songs celebrating one girl’s trusting ‘yes’ to a frightening message, songs acclaiming the sure sign of God’s love in the child to be born, pointing to signs of hope around us now. If the malls must play O come all ye faithful before we’ve meditated on those mysteries, let’s defy them by singing along – O why are we waiting? Marnie Barrell is a hymnwriter, musician and lay preacher in Christchurch. marnie@pl.net