Advent Voices

O Emmanuel

by Malcolm Guite

O come, O come, and be our God-with-us,

O long-sought with-ness for a world without,

O secret seed, O hidden spring of light.

Come to us Wisdom, come unspoken Name,

Come Root, and Key, and King, and holy Flame,

O quickened little wick so tightly curled,

Be folded with us into time and place,

Unfold for us the mystery of grace

And make a womb of all this wounded world.

O heart of heaven beating in the earth,

O tiny hope within our hopelessness,

Come to be born, to bear us to our birth,

To touch a dying world with new-made hands

And make these rags of time our swaddling bands.

(from Sounding the Seasons)

Underneath Miracles

This Sunday in the church I serve, we are starting a study of the miracles of Jesus. His miracles were wonderful in and of themselves, of course. To give sight to the blind and feed 5000 with 5 loaves and 2 fish were quite the feat for those effected. 

But what is special for me about the miracles of Jesus are not the miracles themselves, but what is going on underneath. It's the underneath that matters, and it's there that Jesus seems to do his best work.

Take for example the first miracle of Jesus, turning water into wine at the wedding in Cana in John 2. Much has been said of the symbolism of this act; how Jesus turns simple things into glorious things, how this wedding banquet was a foreshadowing of the heavenly wedding banquet yet to come between Christ and his "bride", the Church. It also shows how even adult sons should listen to their mothers. :)

But underneath this miracle is really a simple desire--that the bride and groom wouldn't be humiliated. Remember that in Jesus' day, people tended to live in the same town their entire lives, for generations. This young couple probably met when they were kids, fell in love, and their union was a connection and reflection of their two families. 

And the wedding feast was their chance to celebrate and treat their community, the community that raised them. 

And so to run out of wine, to have to kill the party before it was over--there was almost nothing more shameful. The humiliation would have haunted them for the rest of their lives.

But Jesus cared about their humiliation. The last thing he and his mother (where he learned it from, according to John 2) wanted was for this young couple to suffer such a fate. And so, Jesus turned water into wine--the best wine--turning their potential humiliation into a place of wonder and pride. 

One of the mandates of Jesus is that we follow him (Matthew 4:19), and that together we will do "even greater things" than the things we see him do (John 14:12). 

Now, that may not include turning water into wine (although, let's face it, the fact that humans can do this is incredible, a small miracle in fact). But it most definitely will include turning people's potential humiliation into security, comfort, and joy. Whenever we get a chance to do this--to lift someone up instead of tear them down, to come alongside them so that they don't fail (or don't fail alone)--whenever we work for the dignity of others, we are performing a water-to-wine-type miracle. 

I can raise a glass and toast to that. 

Cheers,


Jeff

Water

Recently, I had the chance to travel with 11 others from our SPC family to the country of Eswatini, a small, mostly forgotten country in the horn of Africa. Eswatini is a beautiful, mountainous, sleepy, peaceful country of roughly a million people in a land mass the size of the state of Massachusetts. It is filled with fields of maze and sugar cane, huts, roadside stands selling fruits and meats, and children walking everywhere. It is a country that doesn’t command too much attention. In fact, you might not think much of it at all. Until you hear about the challenges they face. Close to 1/3 of the nation is infected with HIV/AIDS. 1/3 of girls will be sexually assaulted by the age of 18. In Mahlalini (the community we were visiting), only 1/3 of the inhabitants have access to clean water. These are warning sirens screaming out a cry for help from beyond. When you hear of their challenges it feels like a 4-alarm fire, calling out to the world for help. And gratefully, that is where our church family through World Vision is making a difference. One of the things that was impressed upon us is how integrated these concerns are for the people of Eswatini. Their low education rate comes in part from the long walks to water their children take a few times a day (the world average is 6k per walk), thus taking away precious time for study. The high sexual assault statistics is also caused in part by the long walks to water, often down isolated paths to distant rivers and streams, where predators lurk. Poor healthcare stems from dirty water like the kind we saw, robbing bodies of much needed health.

In fact, as we saw World Vision’s work, it was amazing how many of the problems stem from having access to clean water close to home. If the water is clean, the sickness rates subside. If water is close, the long and dangerous walks to the stream and rivers are eliminated. We’ve all heard it said that “Water is life”. I would add to that “Access to clean water is life” works, too. Jesus says that when you give a cup of cold water to a child, you are living into the reward of God. Simple and profound. And that is what we saw World Vision doing in Eswatini with the resources the people from SPC generously give. World Visions has plans in the next 5 years to encompass the entire Mahlalini community with access to clean water. On the wall in their office is this photo of the miles and miles of pipe they are laying with the government’s help which will completely revolutionize life there. I can’t wait to head back to Eswatini in the future and see the lives that are affected. I would bet that all of the indicators of wholeness—lower HIV/AIDS rates, increased test scores in schools, less instances of sexual violence—will improve drastically. And we get to be a part of that. What an honor and privilege.

Names

I don't know anyone who doesn't like Johnny Cash, at least a little bit. Lyrically, he is transcendent. His voice digs out the depths of one's soul. And his ability to read and play to his audience was legendary.



And then there is his compassion. Recently, I was listening to one of his most popular songs (spoken word? song? rap?) "A Boy Named Sue," off his live at San Quentin album. This song is really a poem by the mostly children's poet Shel Silverstein about a boy given the name Sue by his father who left the family early in his life. This name gave him such grief that he vowed to find his dad and kill him for sticking him with it. Upon finding his dad and getting ready to keep his promise to off him, his dad tells him the great secret--he named him Sue to force him to be tough. In other words, he named him with a purpose in mind, which turned out for good. The song ends famously,


And I think about him, now and then

Every time I try and every time I win
And if I ever have a son, I think I'm gonna name him..
Bill or George! Any-damn-thing but Sue!


And the crowd laughs. And the song ends. A happy ending.


But what gets me about this song is the setting and the people who are hearing it. This is San Quentin Penitentiary.

THE San Quentin Penitentiary.

One of the roughest prisons in the country, where the hardest of criminals are housed. Men whose names are anathema, or forgotten, or purposely set aside so that the rest of us don't have to say them. These are men whose names are pretty much trash.

And it is into that context that Cash comes and tells the story of a man whose horrible name is redeemed, and even seen as something that can be a part of the gift of his life. A name that someone else gave him, that is not part of the good.



Stunning. When you the see the video clip of the song, the men listening are eating it up, laughing and smiling.



But more than that, they are wanting it to be true.



In some ways, all of us has Sue-ish names attached to us. (and if your name is literally Sue, my apologies. Feel free to substitute. 😊). Names like "failure" or "too old”, “too young”, “damaged goods”, or whatever name defines you to be different or not acceptable.



But those are not that matter. The name that matters is the one God gives us; forgiven friends. 



Those prisoners certainly needed to hear that. And we do, too. 



Names matter. 



Your name matters.



Let's dwell on that today.





Jonny Cash, A Boy Named Sue, Live at San Quentin