Little Lamb, Who Made Thee?

It seems that every year, a song of the season captures my imagination. This year, the Grace Choir sings "The Lamb" which interprets and conveys a beautiful poem by William Blake. The words express a profound spirituality of the incarnation.

The poem notes the pre-existence of Christ in all creation, so beautifully expressed in the first chapter of the book of John, "without him not one thing was made that was made." Yet this master of the universe, the anointed one of God, comes as a lamb, a child. "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us." In my opinion, this is the most profound mystery of Christianity.

I share these words with you in hopes that they bless your holy season of Christmas. Here they are:

Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee.
He is called by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!

Betty West - "Nothing Can Take the Joy of My Christmas Away"

A few weeks before my mother's last Christmas in 2002, she attended a worship service I was leading at Morningstar. When I opened the floor for prayer concerns, she announced "Even though I have been diagnosed with an agressive form of cancer and the prognosis is not good, I want everybody to know that nothing can take the joy of my Christmas away!"

Her carefully chosen words are etched in my memory. I had to sing a solo after that, and I barely managed to sing through my tears. She had left me with a powerful gift.

Every year during Advent, reading Mary's "Magnificat" reminds me that no matter what troubles come, there is always a bigger picture to behold. Mary had plenty to pout about, having gotten pregnant at 15 or 16 only to have others assume the worst. She knew the baby would be born out of wedlock, and would soon take a long trek on a donkey's back only to find that poverty and lack of connections would lead to giving birth in a messy old barn. Yet she knew there was a song to sing because God was doing something. Even heartaches put us in touch with the big picture of God's grace.

Do you remember how the movie "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" ends? Proud of stealing all the presents from the little town, he stands at the top of the mountain and leans his ear forward. He can't wait to hear the crying and wailing. Yet what does he hear? Singing.

Claiming Mary's and Mom's magnificent spiritualities would mean that no matter what, we sing anyway. We can’t help but sing. We sing and we sing and we sing. Nothing can steal the joy of Christmas away.

Why? Because no matter how hard life is, something new is being born in us.

Prayer of Placement

Oh God, as you formed me in your image,
I ask that you reform me in your image.

I ask not that I can use scripture to search your heart,
But that I can allow you to use scripture to search mine.
I ask not that I can use prayer to love you,
But that I can allow you to use prayer to love me.

Lord Jesus, I place my heart in your Heart.
I place my mind in your Mind.
I place my hands in your Hand.

I place my joys in your Joy and my sorrows in your Sorrow.
I place my pain in your Pain.

I place my hurts in your Hurt and my peace in your Peace.
I place my light in your Light and my dark night in your Dark night.
I place my death in your Death and my life in your Life.
I place my relationships in your Relationship and my brokenness in your Brokenness.
I place my mercy in your Mercy and my justice in your Justice.

I place my strength in your Strength and my weakness in your Weakness.
I place my doing in your Doing, my being in your Being,
My words in your Word, and my silence in your Silence.

I am so tired of taking out of your hands what you have created with them.

And so, Lord God,
In my wetness and dryness, in my deadness and aliveness, in my fullness and my emptiness,
All of who I am I place in All of Who You Are.

Amen.

By Stephen P. West
March 2003

The Advent Mousecapade

Many of us look forward to having Christmas guests this time of year. My family started early. Last week, we had four very special visitors to start the season off right. A family of mice decided to drop in.

A friend gave us a Christmas tree, and as they say, you never know what might “come with the box.” Our guests provided lots of entertainment … you should have heard Sandy shrieking with delight.

As soon as our Advent mousecapade was over and our guests were attended to, Sandy let me know it was time to start cleaning. I have gotten started. Cleaning behind the refrigerator was rather interesting. There was an entire ecosystem back there.

I’ve never been a fan of pre-Christmas cleaning. I figure that’s what spring is for. Christmas is something you clean up after. But alas, our resident rodents have forced the issue, and Sandy can be rather persuasive.

During Advent, maybe pre-Christmas cleaning is just what we need. Malachi tells us that God is sending an emissary who comes intending to purify our hearts and cleanse our souls. I imagine he is speaking of John the Baptist, described as a messenger who will come like "refiner’s fire" and "fuller’s soap". John comes every Advent, as if holding a flame in one hand and detergent in the other, announcing the time has come to prepare the way of the Lord.

I have noticed in recent years that when I visit families in the hospital after a new birth, I’m often asked if I have washed my hands before I hold their child. Thank you, dear Christmas mice, for reminding me that Malachi sends me the same Advent message. I have to wash up before I hold the baby.

The Advent Conspiracy

I love this idea and I love this movement. It's something you might want to think about this Advent Season. There's a wonderful video below and there is also information at The Advent Conspiracy. Check it out and may we all do a little bit to be more centered and make the world a better place.

The Paradox of Expectation

As Advent begins, I think of one of my favorite Advent quotes from Henri Nouwen. I share it with you in hopes that you have a blessed Advent.

The paradox of expectation indeed is that those who believe in tomorrow can better live today, that those who expect joy to come out of sadness can discover the beginnings of a new life in the center of the old, that those who look forward to the returning Lord can discover him already in their midst.

You know how a letter can change your day. When you watch people in front of the wall of mailboxes, you can see how a small piece of paper can change the expression on a face, can make a curved back straight, and a sullen mouth whistle again ...

A life lived in expectation is like a life in which we have received a letter, a letter which makes him whom we have missed so much return even earlier than we could imagine. Expectation brings joy to the center of our sadness and the loved one to the heart of our longings. The one who stayed with us in the past and will return to us in the future becomes present to us in that precious moment in which memory and hope touch each other.

Thankful for the Pilgrimage Itself

Thanksgiving prayers rarely go below the surface. Have you ever paid attention to them? We thank God for food and for plenty, for family and friends, for our nation, and for freedom. We thank God for the good stuff.

But the original American Thanksgiving was not about riches and bounty. It was about gratitude that comes from making it through extremely difficult times to follow the heart. Half of the people on the Mayflower died from disease. They were a half dead and almost starved, barely managing, rag-tag band of pilgrims looking for a place where they could escape persecution and practice religious freedom. And by God, they made it! So they paused to acknowledge their blessings with a feast.

The beatitudes remind me that blessings are much deeper than the things we like. Hard things are blessings because they are things that draw us closer to God. Gratitude is being thankful for the pilgrimage itself.

What would our faith be like if we revived the way of the pilgrim? A pilgrim is one who hasn't yet found what we're looking for. This Thanksgiving, don't just thank God for what you have or for what makes you happy. Give thanks for where you've been and where you're going, and for the journey itself with all its bumps and bruises. True gratitude sees a bigger picture.

As a pastor, I feel like a pilgrim. I serve in a culture that is dispassionate about religion and in one of many American denominations that are highly anxious over the decline of their institutions. Yet the good news is Christianity is not dying. It's simply on a pilgrimage of its own. In church history, transformations have always happened right under the noses of those dedicated to the very institutions they built to preserve previous transformations. And that's how we come back to the spirituality of Jesus.

It's the pilgrimage that matters. Give thanks.