FIRST THINGS

Under the category “New Year,” many traditional hymnals include one titled “Another Year is Dawning.” Its lyrics were composed by a modest, behind-the-scenes Britisher named Frances Ridley Havergal (1836-1879). Daughter of an Anglican clergyman, she lost her mother when only eleven years old. But poetry that honored God stirred within her, and she'd write the lyrics to some 100 hymns, including the better-known hymn of consecration, “Take My Life and Let It Be.” And that is how she lived—a lifelong single—letting God live within her until her early death at age 42.

The “New Year” hymn begins like this: Another year is dawning! Dear Master, let it be,/In working or in waiting, another year with thee./Another year of leaning upon thy loving breast,/Of even-deepening trustfulness, of quiet, happy rest.

I've never been much for staying up on New Year's eve until the clock struck twelve. Maybe it's weariness from all the consumerism that has come to characterize the whole Christmas season and how alcohol seems to reign in the holiday partying. Give me instead a cup of warm cocoa and a quiet place to think about the past and anticipate what God has planned for the future.

Maybe we can learn a thing or two from Jewish culture. Their “new year” celebration, “Rosh Hashanah,” one of seven Jewish “feasts,” is one of three in the autumn. The name comes from the command to blow trumpets, and traditionally the shofar (made from a ram's horn) sounds the call to pause and examine one's life before God.

And isn't that the meaning behind the Lord's Supper (“communion”) in Christian churches? And when “communion” is scheduled for late New Year's Eve, or even at midnight, a reverent, humble attitude toward God is a lot more meaningful than some huge glittering ball dropping above a crowd of revelers in an alcohol-fueled environment. It's not about the calendar going from one numbered year to another. It's about what the apostle Paul called “forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead.” And in doing to, to “press on toward the call to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13b-14).

Or, as Miss Havergal put it, a fresh opportunity for “ever-deepening trustfulness, of quiet, happy rest.”

Join a congregation in singing this hymn:

Anotheryear is dawning - Bing video

BIRTHDAY SONG

It seems so incongruent that a King would have the most inadequate “bassinet” around. An animal feeding trough, not a crib with a pristine sheet and safety-approved side rails. No nice receiving blanket or soft sleeper, just strips of coarse cloth wound about Him to keep Him snug and serve as a type of diaper. Today, when the little kids (or even adults) re-enact the nativity scene (bless those shepherds in Dad's robe), we tend to forget the original “maternity ward” for the King of Kings was cold, crude and dirty.

Yet that's how God chose to write His Son's birthday story. He stooped to earth to raise us up to eternal life.

If left to human standards of celebration, Christ's birth would have been a presidential inauguration and royal coronation all rolled into one, and more besides. Parades! Bands! Extensive media coverage! But God doesn't need glitz to spread the Gospel. Possibly, we're ill equipped to accord Him the infinitely indescribable honor and glory that is His.

This past month or so, I've been reading and re-reading Psalm 89. It's a lengthy one, in which God's love and faithfulness—and the anointed reign of King David—get top billing. But between the lines extolling a human ruler are the parallels of the great Heavenly King who begin His long-prophesied reign in a chilly barn.

The heavens are yours, and yours also the earth; you founded the world and all that is in it....

Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne; love and faithfulness go before you.

Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, O Lord.

They rejoice in your name all day long; they exalt in your righteousness. For you are their glory and strength....(vv. 11, 14-17)

When I'm around a newborn baby, my voice is soft, tender. They are so fragile and vulnerable to loud and surprising sounds. (I wonder how Baby Jesus coped with the barn-mates' baas and moos!) But this psalm reminds me: it's okay to acclaim and rejoice—verbs that imply loud and joyful praise.

I like the quiet, lullaby-like Christmas hymns, like “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” and “Silent Night.” But this sacred holiday of celebration also calls for :”Joy to the World,” “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” and “All Come, All Ye Faithful.”

Sing with gusto and joy! It's okay....He's no longer the “baby Jesus” needing a quiet nursery setting (if that was ever possible in a primitive animal shelter). As the the writer of Psalm 89 suggested with words like “rejoice” and “exalt,” this is the time to sing out with gladness. A King is born! More important, a Savior has come!

ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE

A visual reminder of a famous quote: "The
fragrance remains in the hand that gave the rose."

Have you recently endured (to paraphrase a classic children’s book) a horrible, terrible, no-good very bad day? Such are times that we chafe a bit at Bible verses that command us to be thankful. You know, like this:

Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. (1 Thessalonians 5:17-18)

That doesn’t leave much room for griping about people, problems, pressures, or other perturbing things of life. Impossible? We might think so. And then we run into people who live on a higher standard and inspire us. One was my former pastor, who married us 41 years ago and recently died just after turning ninety. Yes, ninety. At his memorial, his daughter shared that she’d found some of his old journals, dating back nearly forty years. Every day he had written down things for which he was thankful to the Lord. Thousands of thankful items! And that included the difficult, discouraging years of caring at home for his wife, who slipped away slowly of dementia.

All circumstances.

Impossible, except with God’s help, and trust that He knows the bigger picture.

I’ve been around Major Worriers in my lifetime and have to admit to being one myself. But I’m chastised when I read God’s command: “Do not be anxious about anything” (Philippians 4:6).  Right after the command, the “how”:

….but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

Some Biblical clues on nurturing that “attitude of gratitude”:

“He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Cor. 15:57)

“For He is good, His love endures forever.” (1 Chronicles 16:34)

“From Him and through Him and for him are all things. To Him be the glory forever!” (Romans 11:36)

I could cite more verses, but maybe the compelling image is the vision John had of what happens in heaven:

“I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, saying: ‘To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever!” (Revelation 5:13)

With worshipping angels as role models, what more can I say? Except—to be grateful for the earthly role models that God has placed in my life…like a faithful, devoted pastor who, every day, expressed in his own handwriting his gratitude to God.

BACK TO THE BASICS

O

Okay, our refrigerator "bulletin board"
 is messy, with notes and lists
and more--but it works for our busy lives.

Our family calendar, attached to the side of the refrigerator with monster magnetic clips, has been anticipating 2023 since I bought next year’s calendar at a Dollar Store the end of the summer. (Okay, Dollar-and-a-Quarter Store.) At that time, I mark important birthdays, anniversaries and known medical appointments for the next year. Then I take a deep breath, tuck the new calendar under the current one, tidy up other "must-keep" papers and lists, and wonder what 2023 will bring.

For the most part, I’m fairly organized (like thinking ahead with the family calendar), but life doesn’t always send neatly-tied packages. That’s especially true of a folder on my desk I’ve randomly filled with “good stuff” to reconsider “later.”  Then “later” gets later and later. Recently, in cleaning it out, I found decades-old notes that cited principles expressed by the late Dallas Willard, author of The Spirit of the Disciplines (1988). And I thought, Yes!

In this past decade the world has welcomed the pare-down/simplify messages of folks like organizer guru Marie Kondo. In a sense, Willard did that in choosing significant spiritual goals. In my notes, he emphasized these practices;

1.       Identification—Know who you are. Jesus knew His calling as “the Bread of Life” and “The Way, the Truth and the Life.”  As “Bread,” He offered spiritual nurture, as “the Way,” spiritual direction.

2.       Dedication—Know Who you should please. Jesus said He came to give the Father glory (John 17:4). Alas, we’re prone to focus instead on others’ approval and self-glory.

3.       Prioritization—Know what you should accomplish in life. Our culture pressures us into certain “success” categories. And while we should develop and use our God-given abilities, the ultimate priority is to worship and serve God. Jesus did just that in commencing His ministry by claiming the calling of Isaiah 61:1-2: to tend to the practical and spiritual healing of the world.

4.       Concentration—Aim for the “best” instead of mediocre “good enough.” Luke 9:51 says Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem.

5.       Meditation—Make a habit of prayer. Remember: Jesus spent nights in prayer. [In recent years, when troubled by insomnia, I’ve learned to “go through the alphabet” in recalling the worship-worthy names and attributes of God.]

6.       Relaxation—Take time to enjoy life. Balance work/ministry and play. Aim for even 10-20-minutes daily, doing something off the to-do list. Withdraw weekly (the “Sabbath”) and annually (“vacation”).

7.       Delegation—Let others help you. Remember, Jesus drew disciples around Himself. Don’t wait for the “perfect” friend or helper. Let God gather burden-bearers and task-helpers to you.

My husband practices #6 (“relaxation”) with televised sports. When I sit down to watch and keep him company, besides noting the score, I endure the “good life” commercials. You know the ones: shiny trucks zipping up rough mountain roads, parties where alcohol flows, or young “hip” adults snapping selfies of each other on their $1,000+ smart phones. He mutes the sounds on those; we both know they aren’t God’s “good life.”

In my very ordinary home and life, I’ll continue trying to organize life’s essentials by culling paper piles and remembering commitments via that $1.25 calendar. But I also know I sometimes need to step back and ask the essentials of Willard’s principles:

*Is my life spiritually balanced?

*Am I purposeful in seeking God through this action?

*Will people, in interacting with me, be able to see past my humanity and get a glimpse of Him? 

IN OTHER WORDS

To borrow a saying, it takes an
international "village" to produce
a body of worship hymns.

You probably know this classic hymn by Joachim Neander that German Christians began singing after its composition in 1680:

“Lobe den Herren, den mächtigen König der Ehren.”

Don’t speak German? Maybe these English words will resonate and also help you recall the tune:

“Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of Creation.”

It's one of my favorite hymns, and now even more meaningful after learning about its journey to my native tongue, English. I thank a never-married Englishwoman, Catherine Winkworth (1827-1878), whose name as “translator” is quietly inserted in the credits of some four hundred hymns, many still included in hymnals.

Born in London to the home of a silk merchant, she was taught at home by her mother. At twenty-one, she traveled to Dresden, Germany, staying with relatives. There, she learned German and became interested in the rich heritage of German hymns, including those by John Wesley and leaders in the Moravian movement.

 As her translations came back to England, they were heralded for being “terse and delicate” in the complex task of bridging two very different languages. Her name would eventually share the credit lines of some 400 hymns. Besides Neander's (above), the better-known hymns would include:

Lift Up Your Heads, Ye Mighty Gates

Wake, Awake, for Night is Flying

If Thou Would Suffer God to Guide Me

Jesus Precious Treasure

She also translated biographies of founders of “sisterhoods” helping the poor and sick. In England, she advocated for women's rights and higher education. Later a resident of Bristol, she used her own funds to buy and upgrade apartment buildings to provide decent, affordable housing for its poor.

 Her lifespan was short—she died in her 50th year in 1878. She never married. But her legacy lives on through the stout, robust German hymns that she “gifted” to the English-speaking world through her bilingual and poetic skills.

 Miss Winkworth’s largely unsung role is a reminder that God uses all sorts of skills to advance the Gospel, and that includes sharing the story of salvation through song. It comes to us through gifted composers, poets, translators, and supporting musicians. “We are God’s fellow workers,” Paul said of Apollos, whom he said “watered the seed” he had planted (1 Corinthians 1:9). Certainly, the gifts of hymn-translation—as Miss Winkworth so diligently practiced--also belong in the category of “fellow workers.”