Come and worship

I've always loved carol services. I love lots of things about Christmas, but carol services are one of the very best bits. In recent years, however, I've found myself so exhausted with December and all the Christmas preparations that by the time the carol services come round I've been tempted to skip it or trudged there with only a sense of duty. I remember with fondness the days when it was something to look forward to, not just another thing to cram into the pre-Christmas madness.

The other night I walked down the road in the rain to church and on the way I asked God if he'd please come with me. I was so weary that if I hadn't been reading one of the lessons I'd probably have run a bath and climbed into my PJs instead. It went something like this:

'Lord, I've been to countless carol services, and while they're nice and everything, I am so tired that this feels a bit like a chore. Same songs, same readings, same mince pies. I know what there is to know about the nativity - is there something new you want to say to me?'

And there was. 

Continued over at The Association of Christian Writers' Blog, which is called More Than Writers. Come over and have a look around.

Wishing everyone a very Happy Christmas. It's Jesus' birthday, you know. 

Come and worship

I've always loved Carol Services. 

If I can hold a candle and the church is nicely decorated and there's a choir and a band and so on, so much the better. The other night I walked down the road to church and on the way I asked you if you'd speak to me. If I could spend time with you - and feel your Presence there with me in the candlelight. 

Oh, Lord, you answered that prayer. 

The carols weren't just carols. They weren't the same over-familiar tunes and words that we trot out each year and know by heart because we dust them off each Christmas. For me, in row six, sitting next to a man who didn't sing a single word - not a single word! - it seemed fresh and new. 

Hark! The herald angels sing

Glory to the new born King

Oh, Lord Jesus. It was as if those angels were singing with us. The glorious company of heaven was watching the miraculous events in a small middle eastern town way back when and they were proclaiming the wonder of it for the very first time

.

Joyful, all ye nations, rise

Join the triumph of the skies

The very angels of heaven were singing to say, 'He's there! He's come to you! Can you believe it?'

As we sang the weariness of the day full of Christmas preparations melted away and I realised that I found a little bit of that joy deep inside. It's not a fluffy, light as a feather happy sort of feeling; no, it's a deep, weighty, full-bodied overwhelming thing. 

Light and life to all He brings

Risen with healing in His wings

Light. Life. Healing. Don't we all need those things? How I need them; I am broken in so many places. And you are the balm to my hurts, the light in my darkness, the answer to my question. 

As the candle flame in my hand flickered and people's faces were lit up and made beautiful with the soft light, the music soared and my soul reached for you. 

Born that man no more may die

Born to raise the sons of earth

Born to give them second birth

Born that we might live and not die. Born to lift us to heaven to be with you rather than strike us down and leave us where we deserve to be.

Oh, Father. What mystery is it that you came to earth and poured deity into a tiny wriggling body. How amazing that a young girl heard your voice and said 'Yes, let it be as you say', instead of 'You want me to do WHAT?' 

How wonderful that a good man stood by his faithful young wife and raised a baby that wasn't his?  

He came down to earth from heaven

Who is God and Lord of all

and His shelter was a stable

And His cradle was a stall

And the Saviour of the world had his birth day among animals and shepherds and other odd visitors? (Yes, I know, the wise men came some time later, but you know what I mean).

There isn't a palace in the world that man could make beautiful enough for you. There isn't a cathedral or a landscape or a crown of jewels that befits your majesty - but you chose a little known town in the back of beyond for your entry. 

Why? Because you had a Plan. 

God rest you merry, gentlemen

Let nothing you dismay

For Jesus Christ our Saviour

Was born upon this day

To save us all from Satan's power

When we were gone astray

Yeah, let's stay merry, people! Let's not let anything dilute or diminish the amazing thing that happened. You came to rescue us. You loved us too much to leave us in the mess we'd created, were creating, and would go on to create (and it's quite a mess). You came to bring us home to be with you, because you loved us. 

O, tidings of comfort and joy

Comfort and joy

O, tidings of comfort and joy

If that's not good news, I don't know what is. 

My God, it seemed amazing to me. Emmanuel - God with us. 

God. With. Us. Sing about it. 

Sing, choirs of angels

Sing in exultation

Sing, all ye citizens of heaven above

Glory to God

In the highest

O come, let us adore Him

Christ, the Lord. A tiny baby. 

Why exultation? Exulting? Lively, triumphant joy. Celebration of success, not just happiness. This is a triumph, and the angels could see how profound it was. Everything would be different, now. It was a game-changer. The earth was transformed that night and most people down here were completely oblivious to it, but the angels weren't. 

It was a big deal.

Ding dong! merrily on high

In heaven the bells are ringing

Ding dong! verily the sky

Is riven with angels singing

Gloria 

Hosanna in excelsis!

Riven! The sky was split across with the sound of the angels. Torn apart with the pealing of bells and heavenly host worshipping and celebrating. That must have been some sound.

Ye who sang creation's story

Now proclaim Messiah's birth

Come and worship

Christ the new-born King

We came and we worshipped. The choir sang in harmonies that must have pleased you. The band played music that lead us into your presence and the old songs meant something new.

We got to play a small part in the anniversary of that earth-shattering day in history.

E'en so here below, below...

Even so, here below. In my church, at Christmas 2013. Me. Even me. 

Now to the Lord sing praises

All you within this place

And I closed my eyes (making sure that my candle was still vertical and not dripping wax on the floor or setting fire to anyone's hair or anything) and I remembered the way I saw you on your throne with the scenes of glory and majesty and power and gentleness and unending, dramatic love playing out in your heart and I lifted my small, substandard, stained one to you. 

I think maybe even if we manage to see beyond the turkey and tinsel and gifts and Christmas telly sometimes we get too wrapped up in the tiny baby in a manger and no-crying-he-makes and all that. Even with the benefit of more than two thousand years we might miss the big picture - this baby was God. The Creator and sustainer of life, in a bed made of straw born to a normal girl who believed and her bemused husband. 

Christ by highest heaven adored

Christ the everlasting Lord

Adored by the angels of heaven and adored by me.

The Word made flesh. God with us. 

Oh, God, thank you for my glimpse past the familiar and into the realms of worship. Thank you that I heard an echo of the angels song and you let me add my poorly tuned but enthusiastic voice to the heavenly host.

Glorious now, behold him arise

King and God and sacrifice

Heaven sings, Alleluia!

Alleluia the earth replies

God with us. 

Jesus, our Emmanuel.

Amen and Alleluia. 

Choirs and candles

Afternoon, God.

I'm waiting for my girls to come back from school. Today they were going to have a rehearsal for the Christmas Play and they were very excited this morning. Both of them were happy with their allocated part this year (which makes a change; last year at nursery Katy was somewhat disappointed to be an angel again and I never owned up that I requested that part for her so that I could get a bit more wear out of the angel costume, which has done (if I remember rightly) three nursery nativities and two at church. How satisfying it is to get good use out of a supermarket dressing up outfit. I felt rather smug. 

Anyway, this year Elizabeth is a narrator, and she is also in the choir, so she can wear her jeans and a T shirt and doesn't have to dress up. This is good news as she didn't want to dress up. She's quite self-conscious these days, poor love, and no longer likes dressing up and exhibitionist type things, though she was longing to be a part of things. I think she was actually afraid that she might have to have green face paint on as her class did last year when the theme was 'Christmas With The Aliens' but this year it's 'The Christmas Hoe-down' or something like that so perhaps the green face and deely boppers weren't on the agenda anyway. Still, she was happy to be a reader. Only the best readers get to read something in the Christmas play. (Bit of maternal pride there. Sorry.)

In this year's school play Katy is going to be a candle. Yes, a candle. She chose to be a candle, but to be fair the choice was only a candle or a snowflake. It seems that she decided that it would be nicer to be a candle than a snowflake. Both candles and snowflakes get to do a dance, and I can't wait for the candle dance. Apparently she is going to be dressed in black with a cardboard flame on her head. I thought candles might be white but then maybe they'd be confused with the snowflakes. Big sister is a smudge scathing about the reception class candle business but Katy is undeterred and most enthusiastic.

They were both delighted to be involved in the play and they're practicing like mad. Elizabeth has her reading nailed now and keeps trying it out in funny voices. Katy is getting deeply into character and does mystical dances that can't possibly be candle related but I might be wrong. Both of them are often to be found in the house singing Christmas songs and I love to hear them sing. It doesn't matter one bit to me if they're in tune or not; I love to hear their little voices. Especially when they're singing something like 'Away In a Manger', which is one of my favourite Christmas carols. I'm particularly looking forward to the finale 'Yeee-haa!' at the end of the hoe-down bit. My two collapse in giggles at the end of that. 

This will be the only year that they're both at this school together. In a few more years they'll meet up again at Junior School, but I don't know what sort of Christmas play they do there. This will be a proper whole school event where classes do something individual to tell the story and then come all together for the nativity bit and carols at the end. I get to crane my neck with lots of other proud parents to see both my girls in different places (they're both tall so they're always at the back, whatever they do) and I can't wait. I just love the innocence of it, and the effort, and the pride, and the care that goes into it. They're so small.  It usually makes me cry. 

I love that they're learning so much, that they are growing in confidence and that they have such pride in showing their school off at times like this. My beautiful Lizzie reading her bit about the birth of Jesus and standing tall and beautiful in the choir. Katy, my little light with a flame on her head and this mysterious candle dance. Both of them growing up. 

I'm off to fetch them from school now and hear all about it.