Lo! He comes: an Advent reflection

Yea, amen! let all adore thee, high on thine eternal throne; Savior, take the power and glory: claim the kingdom for thine own: Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Thou shalt reign, And thou alone.

By the Rev. William S. Stanley

VERSE 4 OF HYMN 57 FROM THE HYMNAL 1982

TEXT BY CHARLES WESLEY I remember it like it was yesterday: December 7, 2008. It was the end of my first semester of college, at that peculiarly Episcopalian institution known as the University of the South in Sewanee, Tennessee. I was a member of the University Choir and it was the first of three services of Advent Lessons and Carols. A famed tradition at Sewanee, Lessons and Carols draws all parts of the university—from the most obviously sacred to the most obviously secular—under one roof, All Saints’ Chapel. All Saints’ stands right in the middle of the central campus. Like any sacrament, the chapel serves as an outward and visible sign at the heart of this academic institution that grace is at its center: the grace of God, the grace given one to another in times of abundance and scarcity, and the grace to draw all of the sheep–even as Jesus says in the Gospel of John, the “sheep that do not belong to this fold”–together under one roof. It is a powerful sign of how to hold unity and diversity together. Some of you know that I am a singer. From time to time I’ll muse that I am a priest because I was first a chorister. And music has always had a power to convey the grace of God to me in ways both profound and surprising. Such was the case at this service some 13 years ago. If you’ve been to a service of Lessons and Carols before, you’ll recall that it is really a conversation among the Bible, the Book of Common Prayer, and the Hymnal. Readings from Holy Scripture are coupled with sung hymns and anthems, concluded with an ancient prayer. And like any good drama, good liturgies build energy: they point toward something, inviting the people of God to yet again focus on what really matters. Such is the case in Sewanee’s service each Advent. “Lo! He comes with clouds descending” is the customary final hymn in that service. And if you ever take time to read its contents, you can’t help but see the drama! It has nothing to say about preparing for a birth of a baby in a manger, but it has much to say about the coming again of that baby at the end of time. For that, too, is an emphasis of Advent, if perhaps a less emphasized one. And it was the last verse—printed at the beginning of this reflection—that caught my attention 13 years ago. As my colleague the Rev. John Jenkins attested in a Sunday Forum earlier this year, Christianity is an apocalyptic religion. By “apocalyptic” John meant that our faith—as expressed in scripture and tradition—is always about an “unveiling,” an “uncovering.” We as the people of God are always called to see anew what God is doing, to contend with faith what God has revealed. That is also what Advent is about, as we wait and prepare “to see this thing which has come to pass” (Luke 2:115) both in the manger, as well as at the end of the age. In both times, it is our Savior, Jesus, whom we meet. And whatever is revealed, whatever is unveiled, whatever is changed, we can hold fast to one unchangeable thing: he is with us. God is with us, Emmanuel. Happy Advent, friends.

From time to time I’ll muse that I am a priest because I was first a chorister.