Lessons, Carols and More Lessons

There is a beautiful traditional in churches that associate as members of the Anglican Communion (in my case, the Episcopal church).  It is a once-a-year service known as Lessons and Carols.

It's not old as Anglican Services go, having been first offered in 1880 on Christmas Eve by the then Bishop of Truro (who'd later become the Archbishop of Canterbury).  But the most famous Lessons and Carols are offered today, still on Christmas Eve, by King's College in Cambridge (England).  The College first held Lessons and Carols in 1918 and began broadcasting the service throughout the world in 1928.  The Dean of the Cathedral in 1918 was Eric Milner-White.  He'd been an army chaplain and thought that the Church of England could use some "more imaginative worship."  It was King's College that first began opening the service with the iconic "Once in Royal David's City."

The altar at St. Peter's.

My church's celebration of Lessons and Carols is deeply rooted in this standard.  This year's service, however, was truly an amazing gift to our community and, I believe, filled everyone in attendance with a hopefulness and sense of peace that can only come from an acceptance and understanding of how grace has moved through time.  It is, after all, a celebration of grace.

At first I was a bit put off by the date ... December 20.  Although I've previously blogged how I'm perfectly comfortable these days with the blurring of Advent and Christmas seasons in my life, I'd rather expected my church (St. Peter's Episcopal Church, Morristown, NJ) to hold more strictly to the calendar.  At St. Peter's we'd traditionally done these Lessons and Carols on the first Sunday after Christmas Day, usually a couple of days into the short Christmas season.  Of course, it was not well attended, people being either exhausted from the hustle and bustle of the times, traveling to visit friends and relatives or simply, "churched out."  When I finally arrived in the Narthex of our beautiful building after a stressful hunt for parking in downtown Morristown where the restaurants were overflowing and the Nutcracker was being performed across the street, I was amazed and thrilled to find the Nave full of worshippers.  The choir had already begun the first Carol and was in procession, lighting the candles of the congregation as they passed by each pew.  The dimmed lights, dark red poinsettias everywhere and incense that floated through the air all combined to set the stage for the deep and holy mystery that is the story of God's saving grace in salvation.  And I was completely over my hesitation in the choice of dates ....

Another tradition that, over the years, has attached itself to Lessons and Carols is the choice of asking members of the parish staff to read the lessons (we did seven this year).  I was told by a past organist this was regularly done in English churches.  I was always thrilled to read, when I was on staff.  Because I was late (due to the aforementioned parking problems), I didn't see the beautiful procession down the aisle which included the people who were slated to read the lessons we would hear.  When I flipped to the back of my service leaflet, I was amazed to see the names of representatives from all ranks of leadership in our community.  The Reverend Janet Broderick had invited the Mayor, a congressman, a state senator, a school principal and clergy from neighboring churches of different denominations.  How wonderful, I thought.  Here is a living example of how people in the community can come together, despite their differing ideologies and paths in life, to create something of profound beauty.  It's no secret I've lately been pretty disillusioned by people with power and the opportunity to make decisions that affect us all.  I felt a little ray of hope begin to swell at the symbolism of the guests.

After that first hymn in procession and a few prayers, the alternating of carols and lessons began.  Some were anthems sung by our outstanding choir made up of both young children and adults.  Some were carols that were sung by all with soaring descants contributed by the choir.  I've listed the music and the lessons below if you're interested in knowing what exactly was sung and read.

After the fourth lesson, after Jesus had been born again in a manger, we knelt and sang Silent Night by candlelight.  We actually do this every Christmas Eve too.  In the stillness and hush of the darkened church, this simple song and the simple act of kneeling cause me to catch my breath every time.  " ... love's pure light ..."; " ... with the dawn of redeeming grace ..."  It's impossible not to realize how very blessed we are.

Lesson after lesson we heard again about that grace:  that love that came down at Christmas; that love, all lovely; that love, divine.*  The musical choices were spot on; our Director of Music, Joshua Stafford has a gift for choosing the right piece for each moment.  Our choir is made up of very talented musicians, some professional and some for whom this is their contribution to our ministry.  The children, under Josh, are sounding terrific.  These children are getting a brilliant music education and the opportunity to sing some challenging and important works at a very young age.  My own two children passed through this program years ago.  It was a very formative part of their childhoods and gave them many opportunities to be of service to our church and the wider community.  They traveled up and down the East Coast, to Canada and the United Kingdom.  They speak of their experiences in choir often and with great love.

The service moves through the story of Christ's birth until finally we come to the concluding lesson from John ... "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."  It concludes by telling us the Word was born a man and lived among us, "... full of grace and truth."  Grace and truth.  As Janet would say, this is an astounding gift.

I think I floated out of the church on a wave of goodwill and anticipation.  I felt hopeful and at peace.  My mom and I drove back to her house chatting excitedly about the service.  

And then we were struck with another lesson.  We'd barely walked through the door when my brother, home for the holidays announced that two police officers had been shot at point blank range in Brooklyn, New York.  All the joy and euphoria from having been so uplifted, so filled with grace was immediately dashed by this stark truth:  there is evil in the world and we haven't banished it yet.  Details were sketchy at that point but over the next day we learned along with everyone else that he was a man with a police record a mile long and the desire to commit a purely heinous act.  He took his own life as well so there will always be unanswered questions with only detective work and best guesses to fill in the blanks.  There are bigger questions too.  Like why he was allowed to own a gun.  Shouldn't his arrest record have precluded his purchasing a firearm?  The answer seems rather obvious to me and I wonder why it isn't to those with the power to prevent (or at least know they tried to) tragedies like this.

Such a tragic last lesson of the night and a grim reminder of the harsh reality that despite the grace and truth that came to show us all a better path through life, we continue to reject the gift every time we strike out against a fellow human being whether it is with words or weapons, each time we don't acknowledge the poverty and pain we could alleviate if we could learn to work together.  

But for me there was a saving grace ... I was able to relive much of the promise of Lessons and Carols on Christmas Eve when the age-old story was repeated once again (with more brilliant music, I might add).  Perhaps if we keep revisiting that story and other stories that point us on whatever path to truth we choose to walk, one day we'll wake up to a world like Longfellow yearned for when he wrote:

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail; the right prevail,
With peace on earth good will to men."**

~~~~~~

Christmas Lessons and Carols, December 20, 2014
St. Peter's Episcopal Church, Morristown, New Jersey

Carol:  Once In Royal David's City
Anthem:  What sweeter musick (William Bradley Roberts, Robert Herrick)
The First Lesson from Genesis in which God announces that the seed of woman shall bruise the serpent's head.
Anthem:  Adam lay ybounden (Carson Cooman)
The Second Lesson from Isaiah in which the peace that Christ will bring is foreshown.
Anthem:  Lo, how a Rose e're blooming (Dale Adelmann)
The Third Lesson from Luke in which the angel Gabriel visits the Virgin Mary.
Carol:  Ye who claim the faith of Jesus
Anthem:  Tell Out My Soul (David Hurd, Timothy Dudley Smith)
The Fourth Lesson from Luke in which Jesus is born.
Anthem:  As I walked down the road at set of sun (Michael Head, Margaret Rose)
Carol:  Silent Night
The Fifth Lesson from Luke in which the shepherds go to the manger.
Carol:  While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night
Anthem:  In the bleak mid-winter (Harold Darke, Christina Rossetti)
The Sixth Lesson from Matthew in which the wise men are led by a star.
Anthem:  A babe is born all of a may (William Mathias)
Carol:  We Three Kings
The Seventh Lesson from John in which he unfolds the great mystery of the Incarnation
Carol:  O Come, All Ye Faithful
Carol:  Hark the Herald Angels Sing


*Love Came Down At Christmas
~ Christina Rossetti, 1885

Love came down at Christmas,
Love all lovely, Love Divine,
Love was born at Christmas,
Star and Angels gave the sign.

Worship we the Godhead,
Love Incarnate, Love Divine,
Worship we our Jesus,
But wherewith for sacred sign?

Love shall be our token,
Love shall be yours and love be mine,
Love to God and all men,
Love for plea and gift and sign.

** I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
William Wadsworth Longfellow, Christmas Day 1863 

I heard the bells on Christmas Day

Their old, familiar carols play,

and wild and sweet

The words repeat

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along

The unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime,

A chant sublime

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,

And with the sound

The carols drowned

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,

And made forlorn

The households born

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;

"For hate is strong,

And mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;

The Wrong shall fail,

The Right prevail,

With peace on earth, good-will to men."

St. Peter's Church
At the corner of South Street and Miller Road in Morristown.

On Volunteering

 My twitter name is @GSKath.  I created my twitter account when I found out that both the national and my regional Girl Scout organizations were beginning to communicate important information in tweets.  I've since branched out and follow all sorts of interesting people and organizations but I'll always be @GSKath first and foremost.

I always knew I'd be a Girl Scout volunteer.  Well, actually when I was a girl, I thought I'd be a Girl Guide volunteer.  I was born in Canada and was a Girl Guide growing up, not a Girl Scout.  I had dedicated leaders who really made an impression on me.  We moved to "The States" when I was in 9th grade.  I did join a troop in my hometown in high school and volunteered with a Brownie troop but didn't last very long as these troops didn't do real camping. They did hotel camping.  I'm pretty old school.

My volunteer career began in grade school, continued in high school with student council, prom committee, the school consortium, and Sing Out Morris and then in college with dorm committees, music sorority events and helping out in an administrative office.  I was a Campus Girl Scout too.  In most of these efforts, there were adults at the helm who nurtured all of us young volunteers, helped to bring out the leader or teacher in each of us or helped us figure out our skill sets and passions.  Being able to give time and talent to groups and causes I believed in became a little addictive.

Although my time at church is more limited now,
maintaining the Godly Play worship space is one small
way I've found I can help.  I adore this room.

Fast forward quite a few years.  When my son was about a year old my priest called and asked if I would teach Church School.  It's so hard to say no to the priest, you know.  Thus began my volunteer career.  Teaching third graders on Sundays led to running the program which led to a part-time job, then a full-time job.  Volunteering led me to the most rewarding opportunities in the church.  If I hadn't started as a volunteer, I'd never have known the deep satisfaction of working for a community that has meant the world to me.

By the time my son was in school, I had picked up some other volunteer gigs.  I was the PTA "ice cream lady" for a lot of years at my kids' school, I typed in the school's publishing center (every child created an illustrated book every year), at some point I typed, edited and distributed the monthly newsletter for a couple of schools and I was an officer on the executive board for a little while.  When my daughter arrived in kindergarten, I added being a Girl Scout leader to my volunteer resume.

And that's when things really got going.

Seriously, these girls (all out of college now and
making their own way in the world) gave me so much
joy.  We began with 10, ended with 7 and in the 13 years
we spent together, about 20 young ladies floated in
and out of this group.

Watching my ten little 5-year-olds (including one with physical challenges) grow up that first year was a joy.  Each year brought new adventures and memories that were often touching, often hysterical and always rewarding.  Having been bitten by the bug, I couldn't just leave it at leading my troop.  Troops are organized into communities called Service Units (in my area, service units are most often your actual community too).  These "SU's" are run by volunteers trained in specific tasks by the local Girl Scout Council.  I started my career with the service unit as the troop organizer for my school, recruiting other leaders to start up new or take over existing troops and organizing the girls into these troops.  I ran or helped to run local events like our annual International Night.  Eventually I became a co-leader of the service unit which had, at the time, more than 50 troops of hundreds of girls.  Helping other leaders help girls find their passions and begin to realize their potential was tremendously satisfying.

My Girl Scout resume increased to include Trainer (my favorite thing to do), delegate to Council meetings, delegate to National Council Sessions and various and sundry other odd jobs that it has been my joy to do over the years--18 years I think.

What do I get out of all this time spent?  I'm privileged to watch some really cool young ladies grow up.  I'm there to see the kernels of their ideas become big successful projects and watch them realize they can tackle just about anything from planning a trip and budgeting to educating their peers on issues that are important to them.  I've met so many adults along the way who've inspired and taught me a thing or twenty.  Some of these folks I now count among my dearest friends.  I've been able to travel on behalf of my Council, something for which I'm very grateful.  I've become accustomed to public speaking (and I'm not terrible at it).  I get to exercise my creativity muscles and practice my outdoor skills.  I try to stay organized (never batting 1000 there).

Spending time with young people keeps me young.  I've learned to like a lot of what they like--things I'd never have given a chance without their enthusiastic chatter (like Taylor Swift and One Direction) and admit to not totally appreciating other things (the Twilight and Hunger Games series).  The small bits of time I give to my church these days feed my soul and renew my spirit.

I've learned that even when I've had a long day at work and it seems like going home and slipping into yoga pants and a hoodie feels right and driving somewhere for a meeting feels like a chore, there is much more satisfaction in making the drive, keeping the appointment and lending some help if I can.  Yes, I get grumpy sometimes--the last two weeks, for example, have been overloaded with obligations.  Years ago I learned that balance is key to preventing burn out and I try to limit the number of nights I spend in volunteer work.  Every so often, my schedule gets out of control (8 Girl Scout meetings of every variety in 10 days was a bit much even for me) but I just have to regroup, pay attention and look in the mirror and practice saying, "I'm terribly sorry but my schedule is already overcrowded this week."

I wish everyone could enjoy this feeling--it can be a real high knowing that you're making a difference in your community.  And the truth is--everyone can.  There are thousands of organizations that need our help and everyone has something to offer.  I promise:  you'll get way more out of than you'll realize at the time.  You are needed.

Liturgically Conflicted

I'm a church-going person.  I'm a retired Christian Education professional too.  I worked for the church--sometimes full time; sometimes part-time--for 11-12 years.  I worked mostly for my parish but spent a little time at another Episcopal church up the road for a little while too.

My own church is incredibly beautiful.  Both the building and the spirit of the place (and the place is really the people).  We have a lot of talent and experience there.  Really gifted people--leaders, preachers, teachers, musicians, authors.  

I have always loved being an Episcopalian.  It's allowed me to really grow my faith in a dynamic way--free to question and draw my own conclusions; free to find my own path to truth, knowing that there are many paths to the same truth.

We worship in a way that is deeply rooted in the past and steeped in Anglican tradition.  We have an amazing choir with a long history of musical excellence.  Both my children grew up in what were then the Boys' Choir and the Girls' Choir.  The boys also sang with the men forming the Choir of Men and Boys, a real English tradition.  My son traveled to England with this choir when he was 11, singing at Lambeth Palace among other historical places of importance.  We have three services every Sunday and one on Saturday evening.

I love our old ways, a lot of our old music, our 126-year-old neo-Gothic building.  But I wonder ... do people who wander in off the street get it?  I mean, do they understand the ancient words, the old music?  I know everyone is drawn to the beautiful architecture.  But do we still translate to people who are looking for a church home?

Two weeks ago we used the Morning Prayer service.  It's a liturgy that focuses on the Word and prayer and has no Eucharist.  I don't love it.  Especially the way we do it now.  I grew up with Morning Prayer.  It was the most commonly used service when I was a child.  I can remember all the prayers and sung canticles still.  To this day.  That's the problem.  We don't get to sing the canticles any more.  Well, maybe one of them.  Morning Prayer has turned into a concert featuring our lovely choir.  That's where I'm conflicted.  I love them.  The choirs of my church are among my favorite musical groups and I like a lot of music.  But if I want to hear them in concert, I'll come to a concert (I wish they did more in concert).  But when I come to worship, I want to be actively involved.  I want to sing and pray corporately.  I don't want to just sit back and appreciate someone else's work and worship.  I feel left out.

This past Sunday we had a sung mass.  It was beautiful and very special.  I'm pretty sure it won't become a regular thing.  But I'm nervous.  It was the celebration of the Feast of All Saints.  Are we going to have a sung mass setting for every feast day?  Will my participation be limited on those days?  Will I feel like Christmas Eve and Easter are just concerts to be appreciated.  And I do, believe me, I do.  The quality of our choirs, our spectacular Skinner organ, talented organist ... I think they're all marvelous.  I just don't want to be left out.

And I don't want people who wander in to feel lost in these ancient rituals.  I want us to find a way to appreciate our past but acknowledge that times have, and will continue to change.  I think we need to consider modernizing a bit.  We could start by investing in and using some of the more up-to-date hymnals.  That would be easy. I can't help but wonder why we're only using one hymnal when we have more than one.  If we are truly interested in growing and reaching more people, we need to have a service that accessible to more people.  Okay, I'm conflicted about that too.  I don't want us to become plain vanilla.  I love all that makes us unique.  It's just that I think what makes us unique can be hard for people who didn't grow up with these traditions.

We had incense this past Sunday.  Another ancient touch, incense.  I love incense.  I wouldn't be sorry if we had it every week.  See what I mean?  Totally in conflict with myself.  There's nothing modern about incense at all.  At the same time we've begun ringing some sort of sanctus bell to start the service.  To get our attention?  That's what those bells are for, right?  To call attention to important parts of the service.  I really dislike sanctus bells.  How is that I don't like the bells but do like the incense (which is meant to do sort of the same thing while invoking Spirit at the same time).

Okay so these are not exactly earth-shattering problems and my internal liturgical wrestling is purely my own issue.  But I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one thinking these thoughts (although I may be the only one at St. Peter's) and if institutional churches are to survive, we need to figure out this cosmic dilemma:  How can we hold on to the past, live in the present and embrace the future with grace and integrity?  I hope we figure it out.  I think the future church depends on it.

~~~

As usual, these are only my opinions ...

St. Peter's Episcopal Church, Morristown

Beautiful stuff happens at St. Peter's like this memorial concert for a dear young person.  My favorite local band performing in my one of my favorite places:
Blaire Reinhard Band at St. Peter's