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

Totally Clueless

Making fun of the disciples is almost too easy. Despite spending three years in close contact with Jesus, eyewitnesses to miracle after miracle, they remained totally clueless.

They saw Him drive demons out of pigs. They saw Him feed the multitudes. They saw Him walk on water. They saw Him repair broken lives by healing lepers and the lame. And not long before that fateful trip to Jerusalem, they saw Him raise His friend, Lazarus from the dead.

Despite all of that, and the times that Jesus had foretold His own death and resurrection, they must not have expected Christ to literally rise from the dead. If they had, they'd have been at the tomb Sunday morning instead of hiding out, as they had been for 3 days.

I understand. I'm often clueless about God, too. 

I get the part about nothing being impossible with God. At least part of me gets it. The other part is thinking, "it may not be impossible, but it's certainly improbable."

Is that what the disciples were thinking in their hidy hole? Did any of them say it out loud? Were they afraid to believe that God is, indeed, able to do exceedingly and abundantly more than all we can ask or imagine?

Did they think it was just hoping for too much?

Or did they ever consider the possibility that Christ could defeat death? Did they question their instincts in devoting three years to following the carpenter from Nazareth? Did they begin to wonder if they had imagined the miracles they had seen with their own eyes?

Do I do the same thing? Do I sometimes forget the times I have witnessed God work in my own life? Do I sometimes hesitate to ask because it just seems like it's more than God can do?

 

I have to confess that the answer is yes.

It's hard to make fun of the disciples when I realize I'm no better than they were.

I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief! 
Mark 9:24 (NIV)