The colors of Advent

 The liturgical colors that churches employ in the observance of Advent have become a point of contention in recent times.  Through the history of the church violet (or purple) has been a traditional color for the season.  In times when the church emphasized self-denial, fasting or penitence (as Advent was seen as a reflection of Lent, preparing for Christmas as Lent prepares for Easter in the theologies of the day) black was employed.  There is a long history of the use of blue in Advent, although the widespread display of this color waxed and waned through the centuries.  Blue is a color associated with Mary the Mother of Jesus in church iconography.  It is a representation of hope in the color palate of Christian symbolism.  The use of blue is enjoying a resurgence in recent years.  This is due in part to the re-defining of some Advent theologies by the Second Vatican Council in 1963.  Communions outside the Catholic community have adapted the Roman position and have embraced much of the current Advent thinking of Catholicism.  So, the fabric hangings that adorn our communion tables, lecterns and pulpits are blue in more and more churches.  Likewise, the stoles and other vestments that clergy wear during worship are more frequently blue in contemporary settings.

The color of candles in Advent wreathes is far from consistent.  Different geographical settings have (as might be expected) their own practices.  Northern European influence often results in candles that are all red on the outer ring of the wreath.  Many congregations that have recently established traditions use three violet (purple) candles and one rose candle (that is frequently misidentified as “pink.”)  Those not familiar with traditional church practices will often light the three violet candles on the first three Sundays of the season, and then light the fourth – rose – candle as a kind of “transitional” color between the solemn hues of violet and the joyful colors that we associate with Christmas.

In fact, the tradition of the rose candle is that it is lighted on the third Sunday of Advent.  You have to stay with me here: the lighting of the rose color on that day goes back to the time when Advent was thought to mirror Lent.  The third Sunday in Lent is Gaudete Sunday (GAW-di-tay).  It is a Latin term that we translate “rejoice.”  It is the initial word in the Catholic liturgy for that day.  On this occasion in medieval Catholicism, the Pope would give a golden rose to the favorites in his court.  So, on the third Sunday of Lent, the gift of a rose gave rise to the use of rose-colored fabrics in worship on that day as a kind of break in the solemnity of Lent.  As Lent influenced the observance of Advent, the rose color came to be associated with the third Sunday   of Advent.  Thus, the contemporary appearance of a rose candle in our Advent wreathes.   As this rationale has come to be rejected, a fourth violet candle frequently replaces the rose candle. 

Other wreathes use four blue candles, employing the imagery of that color that is also used in paraments and vestments.  The use of three blue and one rose candle has nothing historically or theologically to recommend it.

The Advent Wreath

 One of the most visible objects in our traditional observance of Advent is the Advent Wreath.  This appointment contains several symbolic portions within the whole.  First, it is a circle.  It signifies the God who has no beginning and no ending.  Even though Advent is the initial season of the Church Year it is part of a recurring cycle that includes Christmas, the Season of Epiphany, Lent, Easter and the time after Pentecost.  As the cycle progresses over and over the church moves through the great events of the prophesy, birth, life, teachings, death and resurrection of Jesus.

 The wreath is comprised of evergreens that represent eternal life.  The use of evergreens in this season is a traditional affirmation of life.  In a time when most growing things die or lose their leaves, evergreens remain vibrant.

 Advent wreathes also feature candles.  There is a central Christ Candle and then there are four candles around the periphery of the wreath.  The church lights one candle on the initial Sunday of the season, then the original candle plus an additional candle on the second Sunday and so forth through the entire observance, so that on the last Sunday of Advent all of the outer candles have been ignited.

The First Sunday of Advent

 We come to the beginning of a new year.  Not the calendar year, of course.  2019 will be upon us quickly enough.  December 2 marks the beginning of the Christian Liturgical Year.  The Western Church reckons time a little differently than secular observers.  So, we start a new year four Sundays before December 25 – Christmas.

 Advent literally means “to come” (from the Latin advenio).  The season is a many-layered period.  The church, all at the same time, anticipates the physical birth of Jesus, placing him in time and space.  The community of faith also begins the yer-long observance of the coming of the Savior of the world into human history.  In addition, believers look forward to the return of the exalted Son of Man in glory.  Lawrence Hull Stookey (Calendar: Christ’s Time for the Church, Nashville, Abingdon 1996) observes, “What may seem to be an anomaly is a very important theological point.  The beginning pf the liturgical year takes our thinking to the very end of things.” (p. 121)

 The friction in this time is that this is not the “Christmas Season.”  The retailers have been huckstering STUFF since the Fifth of July.  But the church does things differently.  Advent is a time of introspection.  It is a time of expectancy.  It is a time of not getting in a hurry.

 Time will pass quickly enough.  I look to enjoy the anticipation.

Sunday is the Feast of Christ the King

 The Final Sunday in the Christian Liturgical Year is the Feast of Christ the King (some refer to the day as the Feast of the Reign of Christ). The day serves two functions. It is a natural end to the progression that commenced last Advent. Liturgically we have moved from anticipation to arrival to Passion and Resurrection and into a celebration of Pentecost and the work of the Holy Spirit in Creation. And just as a birthday celebration marks the end of one year and the beginning of another in our personal lives, so this observance ties off the loose ends of an entire year’s practice and sets the stage for another cycle. The day also serves as a bridge between end of the world language of the end of a year and the futuristic lessons that we will begin reading in Advent.

The titles for the day can muddy the waters of understanding at times. “Christ the King” is the historical title for the day. It is rich in biblical imagery and the church frequently employs the phrase in its theology. In recent times some people have raised objections to the term, claiming that it focuses exclusively on the maleness of Jesus and excludes anyone but a male from the role of ruler. There are those also who take exception to the dynastic and imperial imagery of “king,” and they prefer the alternative “Reign of Christ.”

As much as we might sympathize with the intent of such observations, I would offer a caution in using purely democratic terminology. We do not elect Christ as our Lord. We do not follow a representative process in order to define our relationship to Christ. I agree that the language of the Bible is a product of its time(s), but I truly cannot imagine any other model that captures the essence of what it means to devote one’s life to Jesus. Terms like “Lord,” “Master,” or “King” carry the sense of a superior and inferior, of a teacher and learner, and of one who gives direction and one who must follow.”

“Christ the King” is also a promise. It anticipates a day when all of creation will acknowledge Jesus as Sovereign. It is inappropriate that we should water down such a day in order to accommodate sensibilities. It is a day of “Crown Him with Many Crowns,” and “Jesus Shall Reign Where’re the Sun.” Christ is King!

The conclusion of "Ordinary Time"

The Gospel Reading for this Sunday, the Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost, comes from Mark 13:1-8:

As he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!’ Then Jesus asked him, ‘Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.’

When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him privately, ‘Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?’ Then Jesus began to say to them, ‘Beware that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name and say, “I am he!” and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumours of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.

This passage, which the church sometimes labels “The New Testament Apocalypse,” appears in all three synoptic gospels. Its parallel is in Matthew 25 and in Luke 21. Mark’s language is the version of the story that is most familiar to us.

We do not gravitate to this passage often. It is a little scary on the one hand. It is uncertain on the other (‘Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?’). The Romans destroyed the Temple – and all of Jerusalem -- in A.D. 70. But the passage carries with it not only a sense of the end of Jerusalem, but of the end of the world. The church has appropriated the imagery of this text and applied it to the greater turmoil of the End and the Judgment and the Second Coming of Christ. It stirs up in us a lot of the emotion that can accompany consideration of such events.

But these considerations are necessary. Next Sunday is The Feast of Christ the King, or the Reign of Christ. Then, we come to the First Sunday of Advent, and we start anew our consideration of the Christian liturgical year. So, this week is the last “ordinary” Sunday in our worship cycle.

It is fitting that we end with “the end.” Imagine making our way through Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter and Pentecost before ending our entire journey with the parable of the Prodigal Son. That tale is a noble one, but it doesn’t wrap up the long and emotional journey that has been ours for fifty weeks.

Jesus speaks of an end. By extension, he speaks of “The End.” Then we segue into a new season of anticipation and hope as we await the coming of Christ into human history, both in the manger of Bethlehem and in the realization of God’s long-term plan.

So, this is not merely an uncomfortable conclusion, or an awkward transition. Rather in embracing this passage we understand that God’s plan is ongoing. It is not up to us to know the times and seasons. It is up to us to endure in faith.

What does our church say about the end of time?

 In light of some of our recent worship services that centered around The Book of Revelation and The New Testament Apocalypse, some people have asked me, “What does the United Methodist Church teach about the end of the world?” Much to their disappointment I have to say, “Not much.” The historic Articles of Religion of The Methodist Church say,

Article 3—Of the Resurrection of Christ
Christ did truly rise again from the dead, and took again his body, with all things appertaining to the perfection of man's nature, wherewith he ascended into heaven, and there sitteth until he return to judge all men at the last day.

The Confession of Faith of The Evangelical United Brethren contains this statement: rticle XII — The Judgment and the Future State

We believe all men stand under the righteous judgment of Jesus Christ, both now and in the last day. We believe in the resurrection of the dead; the righteous to life eternal and the wicked to endless condemnation.

(The Methodist church and the Evangelical United Brethren formed one church – The United Methodist Church – in 1968. In doing so, each parent church accepted the doctrinal statements and historical documents of the other.)

John Wesley himself spoke infrequently about such things. One of Wesley’s preachers was George Bell, who at one point prophesied that the world would come to an end on February 28, 1763. Wesley reluctantly but firmly cut his ties with Bell. He wrote in his journal on February 28, 1763, “Preaching in the evening at Spitalfields on ‘Prepare to meet thy God,’ I largely showed the utter absurdity of the supposition that the world was to end that night. But notwithstanding all I could say, many were afraid to go to bed, and some wandered about in the fields, being persuaded that if the world did not end, at least London would be swallowed up by an earthquake. I went to bed at my usual time and was fast asleep about ten o’clock.

Wesley wrote in his sermon, The Great Assize (which is part of Methodism’s Doctrinal Standards) that the concern of the Christian was to live a life of righteousness so that the Final Judgment held no fear for an individual. He spends no time on the questions of “when” or “how.”

Wesley thought that it was folly for humans to concern themselves with timetables and speculation. He quoted Jesus’ words that “no one knows the time or the place…” Wesley contented himself with teaching Methodists that holiness of living and vital piety were at the center of faith, and that the rest would take care of itself.

It would be easy on some of us if the church would just say, “We have a day and hour.” But it doesn’t. Meanwhile, whether the end comes tomorrow or in a thousand years, the scriptural mandates remain the same: “Watch,” and “Love God with all that you are and all that you have.” The rest will work itself out.

"For all the Saints..."

 

 

The Feast of All Saints was November 1, and we observed the occasion Sunday, November 7. Originally the church set aside an individual day – usually the day on which an individual died – as a commemoration of the life and witness of those whom the church declared “saints.” As you can imagine, the calendar soon became overrun with commemorations even when the church celebrated multiple persons on a single day. So, the church (long before there were denominations of any size) gathered all of these lives into one celebration, All Saints. These saints were almost exclusively martyrs, and the day was one of great solemnity.

The church also recognized all other faithful departed on the following day and observed the event as All Soul’s Day. In the Western Church (the congregations aligned with Rome) this early November observance remains to this day. In the Eastern Church (those congregations that recognized the leadership of the church at Constantinople, also known as the “Orthodox” Churches), the tradition sought to maintain a connection between The Resurrection of the Lord and the sanctification of believers by locating the Feast of All Saints on May 13, or alternatively, on the first Sunday after Pentecost.

Protestant churches unified All Saints and All Souls into one celebration early in their history. In order to involve more of the church family in this commemoration, many congregations held their celebrations on the Sunday following All Saints Day.

The day held great personal meaning for John Wesley. In a journal entry from November 1, 1767, Wesley calls it "a festival I truly love." On the same day in 1788, he writes, "I always find this a comfortable day." The following year he calls it "a day that I peculiarly love."

It is a day to remember and give thanks for those upon whose shoulders we stand. These include the martyrs and the great theologians of the church. But they also include Sunday School teachers and youth counselors Vacation Bible School Leaders. We owe a great debt to a lot of people without whom our faith would not hold the vibrancy that we now enjoy. 

 

 This is the great Hymn for the day:

“For All the Saints”
William W. How 

 
For all the saints, who from their labors rest,
who thee by faith before the world confessed,
thy name, O Jesus, be forever blest.
Alleluia, Alleluia! 

 
Thou wast their rock, their fortress, and their might;
thou Lord, their captain in the well-fought fight;
thou in the darkness drear, their one true light.
Alleluia, Alleluia! 

 

 O may thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold,
fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,
and win with them the victor's crown of gold.
Alleluia, Alleluia! 

 
O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
yet all are one in thee, for all are thine.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
and hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia, Alleluia! 

 
From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast,
through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
singing to Father, Son, and Holy Ghost:
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Moving on

As we enter the month of November, our year-long journey with the Gospel of Mark is coming to an end. We have observed before that our church uses The Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) to help order its worship life. A lectionary is a table of prescribed readings for each Sunday of the year. It normally lists an Old Testament reading, a Psalm, an epistle reading, and a lesson from one of the gospels for each week. There are many lectionaries that churches or groups within the church have used over the years. The RCL is a document that much of the modern-day church employs for worship, for study and for devotions.

The RCL contains lessons over a three-year period. The first year – Year A – begins with the first Sunday of Advent and runs through The Feast of Christ the King. This year’s gospel lessons come primarily from the Gospel of Matthew. Year B – in which we find ourselves involved currently – spends a year focusing on the book of Mark. Year C – which begins November 28 of this year – has the gospel of Luke as its focus.

The use of a lectionary brings a sense of order to the liturgical life of the church. It observes the Christian Liturgical Year and so moves through recognition of the anticipation of Jesus’ birth, the celebration of the coming itself, a time of thanksgiving for Christ’s salvation of all people, a season of penitence and self-reflection prior to observing the Passion of Jesus, fifty days of observing a festival dedicated to the Resurrection of Christ, and finally a season of concentrating not so much on the events of Jesus’ life as on his instruction to the church.  Lectionary readings that pursue these topics in an orderly fashion move us through much of what a given gospel says about the entire life and mission of Jesus.

The use of a lectionary allows for long-range planning for preachers, teachers, musicians, and for people who use the lectionary as a devotional tool. The church does not mandate lectionary use for its congregations. And there are other legitimate models for the church to utilize. But this is one approach to the addressing of scripture that has born fruit for the church over the years.

As I say, our time with Mark’s gospel is coming to a close. We have talked about Mark’s being the first gospel composition. As such it serves as source material for Matthew and Luke. Mark spends a lot of time describing the works of Jesus. There is far less dialog in this gospel than we find in the other three. Mark speaks with a great sense of urgency – the phrase “and immediately” appears fifty-two times in this short work. And all of Mark moves toward the Cross and Christ’s atoning act. There is virtually no Easter story in this book. All eyes look to the sacrifice of Jesus.

So, we soon take our leave of Mark. There is plenty to get excited about in year C and its examination of St. Luke. But it is with a little bit of regret that we turn the page on the Second Gospel for a while.