Jim Gordon has posted one of my favourite Advent hymns today.  Others include 'O Come, O Come, Emmanuel', the beautiful setting of the Great Advent 'O' Antiphons, and this one (if you can excuse the odd bit of military imagery): -

And the day is at the spring,

When our eyes shall see the beauty

And the glory of our King;

Weary was our heart with waiting,

And the night had seemed so long,

But his triumph day is breaking,

And we hail him with a song.

There’s a hush of expectation,

And a quiet in the air;

And the breath of God is moving

In the fervent breath of prayer;

For the suffering, dying Jesus

Is the Christ upon the throne,

And the travail of our spirits

Is the travail of his own.

He is casting up the way;

He is calling for his angels

To build up the gates of day;

But his angels here are human,

Not the shining hosts above,

For the drum-beats of his army

Are the heart-beats of our love.

And it comes with fuller swell;

It’s the triumph song of Jesus,

Of our king Immanuel;

Zion, go now forth to meet him,

And my soul, be swift to bring

All the sweetest and the dearest

For the triumph of our King.

My musicians say they don't like Advent hymns, asserting they are 'too gloomy,' but I love the somewhat poignant, unresolved mood they set, as we wait in the dark and gloom for the coming of the light.

This Sunday I am indulging myself with several I love, including this simple offering from Taize: -

Wait for the Lord,

Whose day is near

Wait for the Lord,

Be strong, take heart.

Jacques Berthier © Presses de Taizé

Anyone else want to suggest their favourites?

Sean shares with us some thoughts from a sermon for Advent 1 he heard on Matthew 24, which suggests a less familiar (if well supported) reading of verses 37 - 41, notably that as in the days of Noah it was those who were 'eating, drinking...' who were 'taken' (v 39) whilst Noah was 'left behind,' so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man.  In other words, left behind is good, not bad!  (Check it out, it is the more natural reading).

This prompted me to take a look at some of the other texts that find their way into shaping so much popular End Times theology - and realising some of the quantum leaps in interpretation we sometimes make.

1 Thessalonians 4, for example, says nothing about scooping up believers to live in heaven, but (as my interlinear Greek puts it)  'we shall be seized in clouds to a meeting of the Lord in air; and so always with the Lord we shall be.'  I have no idea what the Greek word 'aera' might mean other than 'air' but it clearly isn't either sky or heaven - and there is no mention of going thence to heaven.  Re-reading this I am reminded of Acts 1:11 - the 'oi you lot don't just stand staring into space' bit.

I also checked out 1 Corinthians 15: 49-55 - which speaks of resurrection and transformation 'in the twinkling of an eye' at the last trumpet - but not escape from planet earth.

I guess I don't want to push all this too far, because it takes us beyond eschatology to theologies of death, and I haven't the time or inclination to explore that interface right now.  What it does do is, once again, remind me how readily we stop reading what the Bible actually says and see what we expect.  If there is one message that Ihave been hearing over and again this year, it is to come to the Bible as if I'm reading it for the first time (which almost fits with another aspect of the sermon Sean refers to).  I'm a firm believer that 'the Lord has yet more light and truth to break forth from the Word' - just that I never cease to be amazed how much more.

Last rehearsal of the GB nativity play and instead of a typical 14-16 girls we had 22, one brand new, two returned after long absences, and a couple who are rather hit and miss.  More shuffling of parts, a few new characters invented - including a very important angel who holds a star, played by our newest recruit (this character is in the Apocryphal Gospel of Catriona, chapter 1, not sure which verse yet).  When her mother arrived to collect her, she said to her "oh well, you won't be in it this time" and was genuinely amazed by our inclusion policy - truth is, if a new girl arrives next week we'll fit her in somehow.

As I drove home, I found myself reminded of the parable of the workers being hired to work in the vineyard at various times during the day.  Our play next week will, like all nativity plays, be heavily dependent on cold viruses, the whims of infant school children, and who remembers to turn up.  What matters is the everyone who does turn up will be found something to wear and something to do, and everyone, whether she has attended every week and is word perfect, or arrives for the first time and has to be prodded in the right direction, will get her moment of glory and a big clap at the end.

Maybe I'll add this parable to my apocryphal gospel too?!

Advent Prayers Week 2 - 16 people squeezed into the manse living room, loaves and fishes (well stew and apple pie) no problem, singing happy birthday to a 92 year-old (who wasn't the oldest there) and raising money for HMF.

This, I thought, is when it's all worth it.  No stroppy deacons to criticise (one supportive one to enjoy, another alas unable to make it this week).  An old lady brought a lemon sponge, someone else a ginger cake for next week, an offer of a Christmas cake to come... Five minutes of good, solid, heartfelt open prayer (as distinct from 30 minutes of embarrassed silence in the official prayer meetings)... Someone on the edge of the fellowship washing up, a couple of widows getting some much needed company...  The beginnings of community.

This is church!  And I've helped to make it happen!  Praise God who, in overflowing grace and love, seeks us before we have a clue we're being sought, and who never ceases to surprise us with moments of wonder.

Yesterday I received a phone call from someone booking their preaching plan for 2008.  With only four of their Sundays left to fill, the only one I could offer was December 7th!

Meanwhile, I am being driven to distraction by the lack of urgency about folk on my doorstep to plan a service on 25th December this year!   With one spare evening between now and said date, I eventually unilaterally declared a planning meeting - and I am waiting for anyone to let me know if they're coming.

Somewhere in between must be a happy medium, surely?!