Easter Carols

Growing up, there were Christmas hymns that I dreaded hearing in church. While I loved Hark, The Herald Angels Sing, Joy to the World, and Silent Night, there were others that I just didn't think sounded at all Christmasy. I don't know what it was in my 6-year-old brain that considered Silent Night worthy of Christmas, but O Holy Night not, but that's how I felt. Now, my middle-aged brain finds it irritating that O Holy Night is almost never included in my church's Christmas Eve service. (I can only assume that someone on our staff must have been traumatized at some point in life by one too many bad O Holy Night solos.)

Source: Google Images

While I still love the jubilant and the sentimental carols, I have come to love the haunting ones just as much...maybe even more. While Holy Week always brings to my mind the more traditional songs of Easter, such as Were You There? and When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, I also find the more haunting hymns of Christmas running through my mind this week, long after the Christmas decorations have been put away. These are the hymns that remind me that it is impossible to separate the Baby in the manger from the Savior on the Cross, for they are one and the same.

Beginning with Palm Sunday, I find myself singing the first verse of I Wonder As I Wander as it runs through my head over and over again.  My mind simply will not let it go...

I wonder as I wander out under the sky,

How Jesus, the Savior, did come forth to die,

For poor ornery people like you and like I;

I wonder as I wander...

Out under the sky.

Then there's O Come, O Come, Emmanuel. It's a song that has been sung for hundreds of years - although most of those years it was sung in Latin. It's easy to imagine Christians who lived in the 15th century singing the mystical tune with words that paint a clear portrait of the Lamb of God. As I listen to it, I am overcome by the realization that Christ came to ransom more than captive Israel. He came to ransom all of captive mankind. He came to ransom me.

O come, O come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, 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.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Just as I have learned that it is impossible to separate the manger from the cross, I have leaned that the joy of Christmas, the sorrow of Good Friday, and the jubilation of the Resurrection are all intertwined. And perhaps nothing says that better than the last verse of that Christmas carol I didn't care for as a child.

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;

Christ is the Lord, Oh, praise His name forever!

His pow'r and glory evermore proclaim!

His pow'r and glory evermore proclaim!

Blessings to you this Easter,

Margaret

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities;

the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.

~Isaiah 53:5

The Dinner Conversation

You know that parlor game, the one where you name the people you would most like to have dinner with? They can be living or dead, so it's often overwhelming to think of all the people who could make your list, and consequently they tend to be from the last couple of hundred years. Oh, sure, lots of people throw Jesus into the mix, but other than that, you'll often hear names like Lincoln, Churchill, and JFK.

Recently I have found myself thinking it would be fascinating to have a dinner conversation with Mary. Yes, THAT Mary. The Mary who doesn't often generate much in the way of curiosity among Southern Baptists, such as myself. We cover that angelic visitation thing with Gabriel and Mary's subsequent visit to her older cousin Elizabeth, who also found herself in the midst of a miraculous pregnancy, but then there's that whole stable scene where the angels and the shepherds seem to dominate as the baby in the manger takes center stage.

After that, Mary is relegated to a supporting player role with a few cameo scenes and her primary purpose seems to be to move the storyline along. Lately, I have found myself wondering, "What was she thinking?" At various points in the life of Jesus I am curious about how much she knew.

If I could talk to her, I would start with that visit from Gabriel.

"Mary, when he said, 'Do not be afraid,' were you really able to not be afraid?"

"And when he told you the purpose of his visit, did you think you were imagining things? Were you able to so calmly respond with, 'May it be to me as you have said,' because you thought it was a dream?"

"When did it become real to you? Was it when you saw Elizabeth in her sixth month? Was it when you began to feel the baby moving in your own womb? Was it in Bethlehem when you realized you weren't even going to have the dignity of a room at the inn in which to give birth to your first child? Did you long for the presence of your mother or any another woman to hold your hand and give you moral support?"

"Were you afraid then? Did God at least spare you the pain of childbirth, or was yours the most painful of all? Did you feel the full power of this cosmic mystery as you gave birth?"

"What was Jesus like growing up? Was he like any other child up to a point, or was he always different? Was it when he stayed behind in Jerusalem to talk to the teachers that you first saw the signs that he was not like other children or were there signs before that?"

"Were you surprised that he took up carpentry, like Joseph, or did you always expect that? Did you spend your life waiting for the other shoe/sandal to drop, wondering at what point God would take him from your home to use him for greater things?"

"Did you know that once his ministry began, he would no longer belong to you? Or had you always felt that he didn't belong to you? Were you surprised by the stories of healings, or had you seen evidence of his power before? Did he ever whip up dinner when there was nothing in the pantry?"

"Did it break your heart to hear the derogatory things that some people said about him, or had you been prepared for that? Did you know where this was headed? Did you expect him to sit on an earthly throne or did you always know how it would end? Was it a rolling revelation, or did the reality of his calling come to you for the first time on that awful Friday afternoon when the sun went dark?"

"Did he spend time with you and your family after the resurrection? What did he say to you? Did you understand it then, or was it years later that it began to make sense? Or did it ever fully make sense to you in this life?"

As Christmas Eve comes, it never ceases to amaze me to think of all the preparation it took in order for the pieces to come together in Bethlehem that night so long ago, or of the willing hearts that had to be open enough to say, "May it be to me as you have said."

May you feel the power of the risen Christ in your life on this day, and every day.

Until next time,

Margaret

But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary; you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.” ~ Luke 1:30-33

Hi, My Name is Margaret, But You Can Call Me Martha

I love that one of Jesus' favorite places seems to have been the home of a couple of sisters from Bethany. We don't know if their brother, Lazarus, lived there as well, but it appears that Martha and Mary shared the house and that they were both single. There is no clearer person in the New Testament to whom I can personally relate than Martha.

Like Martha, I am task-oriented. Like Martha, I am often irritated when I feel like I'm doing the tasks from which everyone else benefits but for which no one else is willing to do the work. Like Martha, I often turn to Jesus and tell him exactly what I'm thinking. Like Martha, I often ask him why he couldn't do this or that.

To be honest, deep down, I have always thought that Martha gets a bum rap. She had guests to feed. What woman, other than her sister Mary, would ignore the physical needs of her guests? If Jesus had not chastised Martha himself, I'd think we were making too much of her request for help. But he did chastise Martha, and as a result, I have to confront those Martha-tendencies in myself.

The irony here, is that I think Martha was doing her best to be a Proverbs 31 kind of woman...the same woman I went after in my last post. I see Martha as the flip (single) side of the same task-oriented coin on which the Proverbs 31 woman represents married women. I'm sure Martha was up before dawn and that she worked late into the night to provide for herself and her younger sister, Mary. (Clearly, Mary wasn't any help at all.) She didn't have servants or there would have been no need for her to ask for Mary's help.

I'm sure Martha feared the Lord. Aside from marital status, the main difference between Martha and the woman King Lemuel's mom told him about is that Martha puts a human face on the desire to do it all, and to do it all perfectly. But we haven't built a cottage industry on teaching women to become like Martha. We don't push the boundaries of idolatry with Martha. Instead of looking up to Martha, we look down on her. We don't look down on her because she was single or because she was childless. We look down on Martha because Jesus told her that her priorities, noble as they were, were misplaced.

How does Jesus respond to her focus on her tasks? In a nutshell, he tells her that it's not possible to do everything. He tells her she will have to make choices, and that those tasks on which she has placed so much importance are not as important as relationships...particularly a relationship with him.

The section about Jesus' visit to the home in Luke 10 begins by telling us that "Martha opened her home to him." I don't know how many people Jesus had with traveling with him, but I imagine it might have included all 12 disciples, and possibly others who tagged along. Opening her home to Jesus was a big deal. It meant a lot of preparation. It meant feeding her guests. (Did they have potluck dinners then?) Hospitality was a top priority in her culture and Martha was just trying to do everything she could to make sure everything was perfect for her guests. She must have worked very hard to have enough food to feed such a large group. She took the responsibilities of a hostess very seriously.

I fully understand Martha's attention to the task at hand. If she didn't do it, who would? I can picture her in the kitchen, slamming things down and wondering if Mary would ever take the hint to come help. Sure, Jesus had fed thousands from a few loaves and fishes, but Martha couldn't very well ask a guest if he was planning to whip up dinner, could she? As Mary sat at the feet of Jesus oblivious to the bad vibes coming from the kitchen, did Jesus hear the sounds and know what Mary was thinking? I'm going with "yes" on that one.

Perhaps because of my affinity with Martha, this story has always felt like Jesus is talking directly to me. I have often wondered if there was more to the conversation in Luke 10 than was recorded. When Martha interrupted Jesus to ask him to tell Mary to help, did Jesus ask Martha why she was so focused on food preparation? It would have been like him to remind her of previous miracles...did he in this instance? Would she have mumbled something in response about trying to be like the Proverbs 31 woman? Or do the words that were recorded reflect everything that Jesus said to Martha on the subject?

"Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

Did Martha have an "aha" moment and join Mary at Jesus' feet, or did she just turn around and go back into the kitchen to finish dinner, no doubt feeling rather embarrassed?

We don't know. 

We do know that in her quest to be the perfect hostess, she created an awkward moment for her guests. We know that she put the guest of honor on the spot, asking him to mediate a case of sibling rivalry. We know that her quest to do everything - and to do it perfectly - left her frazzled, angry, and perhaps a shade bitter.

We also know that she softened after that event, while still maintaining her frank demeanor. Along with Mary, Martha continued to have a close relationship with Jesus. When the sisters' brother, Lazarus died, both sisters greeted Jesus with the same phrase, "Lord if you had been here, my brother would not have died." Mary fell at His feet before uttering the phrase. Ever the task-oriented woman, Martha spoke to Jesus standing up, and made it a point to assure Jesus that she knew that God would give him whatever he asked. With my Baptist sensibility and restraint, I relate more to Martha. But it was the emotional plea of Mary that he responded to, filling with emotion himself.

The last time we see Martha is at a dinner before Passover, when Mary poured perfume on Jesus' feet and wiped his feet with her hair, the symbolic preparation of his body for burial. Martha served, in silence, finally learning to accept that we are all equipped in different ways. She was gifted to serve. Again, I can relate. I wonder if Martha, like Mary, understood the prophecy that was about to be played out. Did she recognize the full significance of the evening? Was she so filled with emotion that she turned to her tasks, to keep from showing her grief at the thought of what was to come?

The Holy Spirit had not yet inhabited followers of Christ, but Martha had learned the fruit of the Spirit directly from Jesus: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faithfulness, goodness, gentleness and self-control. We don't need to try to be the Proverbs 31 woman when we bear that kind of fruit.

Blessings,
Martha Margaret

From Cheers to Jeers

We've had a few laughs over the last few posts, but we're nearing the start of Holy Week, and it doesn't bring a lot of laughs.

Palm Sunday is the beginning of Holy Week, when we remember Jesus' entry into Jerusalem. Huge crowds gathered to welcome Christ as He entered the city on a donkey, laying their cloaks and small branches in front of Him and singing from Psalm 118, "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord." It was an entry so spectacular, we call it the Triumphal Entry.  

Triumphal...what a word! It's as though you can hear the shouts of "Hosanna" and see the crowds waving and filled with excitement. But Christ knew by then that the warm feelings of the crowd towards Him would not survive the week.

What was it like to know that those cheers would turn to jeers in a matter of days?

I will forever be indebted to Ken Warren, a former staff member at my church, who once preached a Palm Sunday message about what it was like to be Christ, knowing how the week would end. It changed my view of Palm Sunday forever. I no longer think of it as a high point for Jesus. Now I wonder if there was a sick feeling in the pit of His stomach as He watched the crowd from that donkey.

Ken talked about the way that we tend to dismiss Palm Sunday as a parade, a time of jubilation, separating it from the rest of the story...the part where Jesus sacrificed His own life so that we could have eternal life.

He ended his message by showing us a brief video clip of another parade that ended badly. A time when a leader entered a city, greeted by cheering crowds, only to die in that city a short time later.

If President Kennedy had known how the trip to Texas would end, would he have gone anyway? Surely not.

But that's exactly what Jesus did.


Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross! ~ Philippians 2:5-9