First Congregational Church
February 20, 2020
Fourth Sunday after Epiphany & Communion
1 Corinthians 1:18-31
“The Foolishness of God”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching​

I don’t want to sound like a conspiracy theorist here, but are we truly to believe that the Titanic sunk after being hit by an iceberg?! Do they think we're fools!? I've thrown lettuce at the window for hours and it hasn't even scratched, let alone put a hole in it. It’s interesting how we learn things over time, things we might never have conceived of in earlier days, but in later days, have made quite the difference.

When I was in seminary, we had chapel a couple times a week. We sang a hymn, had a prayer and then listened to a message brought to us, usually by one of the professors. One day, the speaker was a missionary, from someplace in Central America or the Caribbean. I don’t remember the point of the message, but a story he told still sticks with me, all these twenty plus years later.

It seems that while he was trying to understand the culture of the people to whom he was ministering, he ended up attending a ceremony conducted by some of the people who practiced voodoo. Until that day, I think I was probably taught to hold such cult teachings or experiences at an arm’s length - whether by the church or culture - I don’t know.

But here was a man, explaining the story of how he watched someone actually being levitated during the ceremony. I didn’t know the person in that day’s chapel, and he looked like a normal enough guy, and there he was, reinforcing a situation that I was taught to be impossible, with seemingly no other agenda than to tell his experience. That day was one in which I discovered there was far more mystery in the world than I had bargained for.

That kind of story/situation can change a person’s thinking and belief system.Yesterday, I was listening to the Moth Radio program, and a story told by Andrew Solomon caught me, something like the one about the missionary.

Andrew is highly susceptible to depression, struggling with it for a long time. When he finally got better, he began to write about his process of recovery, and at the same time, began to explore other kinds of treatment, like experimental brain surgeries to hypnotic regimes to electroshock therapies to making craft items. Andrew had a friend who lived in Senegal, the very most western country of Africa, who invited him to visit and explore some of the tribal rituals used to treat depression. So Andrew went to Senegal.

He spoke to a friend of a friend of a friend, driving a couple hours outside of Dakar, ending up interviewing an “extraordinary old, large woman wrapped in miles and miles of African fabric printed with pictures of eyes.” After explaining the procedure, Andrew asked the woman if he could attend such a ceremony. To make a longer, albeit fascinating, story shorter, Andrew experienced the ceremony, as it was done to himself.

I will spare you the more gruesome details, but suffice it to say that the ceremony included seven yards of fabric, three kilos of a plant cereal called millet, sugar, kola beans, two live young roosters, two older roosters and a ram. The millet ended up being rubbed on his chest and arms, and after several hours of dropping various shamanistic objects, everyone went into the square.

The entire village had taken the day off from their work in the fields, dancing in concentric circles, throwing blankets and sheets over Andrew, and just when he thought he was going to suffocate or die of heat, the cloths were pulled off Andrew and he was covered in the blood of the animals, which immediately drew in the flies. After a number of additional actions, the women of the village “cleansed” Andrew by spitting water on him. I know, just not a regular day in the life of an American. But here’s the thing.

Five years later, Andrew was speaking to someone in Rwanda, much further east and south of Senegal, and our guy Andrew was sharing his previous experience. That acquaintance mentioned that in Rwanda, it’s quite different, but there were some similarities.

This acquaintance said, “You know, we had a lot of trouble with Western mental health workers who came here immediately after the genocide, and we had to ask some of them to leave.” Andrew asked for an explanation and the acquaintance said,

“Their practice did not involve being outside in the sun, like you’re describing, which is, after all, where you begin to feel better. There was no music or drumming to get your blood flowing again when you’re depressed, and when you’re low, and you need to have your blood flowing. There was no sense that everyone had taken the day off so that the entire community could come together to try to lift you up and bring you back to joy. There was no acknowledgment that the depression is something invasive and external that could actually be cast out of you again.

“Instead, they would take people one at a time into these dingy little rooms and have them sit around for an hour or so and talk about bad things that had happened to them. We had to get them to leave the country.”

The apostle Paul was not attempting to cast out depression, but the Christian church in Corinth was not “well.” In his attempt to make the church “well” again, he began his letter with a statement of how absurd this world can seem.


1 Corinthians 1:18-31 New International Version (NIV)
Christ Crucified Is God’s Power and Wisdom
18 For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. 19 For it is written: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.”[a]
20 Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? 21 For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. 22 Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, 23 but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, 24 but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25 For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.
26 Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. 27 But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. 28 God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, 29 so that no one may boast before him. 30 It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness 
and redemption. 31 Therefore, as it is written: “Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord.”[b]

Thank you, Sonia. If you went back over this passage, you will discover that the word “foolishness” is mentioned four times: pertaining to the cross, God and twice to preaching. The one other way that the word is used is that the wisdom of the world is “foolish.” And then there’s the line from verse 26. “Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called.” There is the great preacher, near and dear to so many hearts, who recently said, “It’s interesting how we learn things over time, things we might never have conceived of in earlier days, but in later days, have made quite the difference.”

This whole thing that we do - investing our time and talents and treasures - to a group of rather disconnected other individuals, is rather absurd. Those who rise later than the early birds could be having Sunday morning brunch, reading the paper with a cup of coffee, getting those chicken wings marinating before the big game tonight. And yet, here we are, some folks actually liking the idea of being together, hearing how so-and-so are doing, taking our friends’ - and even unknown strangers’ - situations into our own hearts for lifting up. And what is more odd than celebrating the Son, born of the Spirit and of God, with the cup and bread? It just all seems so strange.

And yet, the strange - sharing a cup and bread - for many people - becomes anticipatory and familiar and can bring a comfort that is sometimes beyond words. As goofy as it all sounds, it is the love of a God - our God - that is so great - that we seek ways to express our gratitude for that love - and grace and mercy and healing and, and, and.

So this morning, as we prepare our hearts and minds for this “meal” that Christ gave us, let us also allow all of that which God gives us - the wise and the foolish to begin our celebration of this supper of marvel.
—-
Let us pray. Heavenly and Eternal God, that you even created human beings after creating the universes and all that they hold, can sometimes seem like a foolish act on your part. We are well-aware that we are not always cracked up to what you envisioned for us. So we thank you, for believing in us and loving us, despite foolishness or disappointments on our parts. And thank you for giving us your most precious self, in your son and in your Spirit - that we might grow into your ways and desires - ways that would astound us on any other given day or time. So thank you, as all your people say, Amen.

​First Congregational Church
January 5, 2020
Second Sunday after Christmas
John 1:1-18, Ephesians 1:3-14
“Grace In Place of Grace”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching


So one day, a police officer pulls Ole over for speeding, and naturally the officer asks for his ID. Ole said he didn’t have one - that it had been suspended when he got his 5th erratic driving offense. When the officer asked for the proof of ownership, Ole said that it wasn’t his car, because the vehicle was stolen. Then he said, “Come to think of it, I think I saw the owner's card in the glove box when I was putting my gun in there.” The officer was, naturally, getting a little excited. “There's a gun in the glove box?” Ole said, “Yes sir. That's where I put it after I shot and killed the woman who owns this car and stuffed her in the trunk.” “There's a BODY in the TRUNK?!?!?” Backing up, the officer told Ole to stay right where he was. 

The officer called for backup, and the Captain soon approached the car. When the officer asked for Ole’s license, he politely handed over the valid card. When asked about the ownership of the car, Ole said that it was his, issuing the certificate card. The captain asked Ole to slowly open the glove box, so he could see the gun, but, of course, there was nothing in the glove box. And, we all know that there was no body in the trunk. 

The captain voiced his confusion over the lack of license, the stolen vehicle, the gun, and the body in the trunk. To which Ole replied, “Yeah, and I’ll bet the other officer told you I was speeding, too!

I got to thinking the other day. I know. Starting off the new year with a bang! Being a little loosey-goosey with the particular official start date, I figure that there have been some 7,928 Sunday morning sermons delivered from this pulpit - or space. There have probably been more overall, if you include Sunday evening services, Ash Wednesday services, Maundy Thursday services and the like. That’s a lot of sermons.

Then I picked the year 64 AD, because I’m figuring that was a fair bit of time after Jesus’ death for the development of early churches. Considering there have probably been millions of churches of all varieties since that time, the number of sermons delivered are probably as vast as the stars in the sky. But, just for one little narrowing of the topic, there have been 102,059 weeks since January 1 of 64 AD. Not only is that a lot of sermons, for what would be one, ongoing church, but one can begin to understand just how it is true that no matter how clever or talented the preacher, there are just a certain number of topics that can be the point of a sermon. Or as the writer of the book of Ecclesiastes put it, “There is nothing new under the sun.”

And yet, we sit on the edge of a new year, some of us having been going to church since Noah was a small boy, and our soul is crying out for something - a something we might not even know we are needing. And so we show up once again, to see what God might have for us on this particular day, at this particular time in your own life as well as in the life of this church family, our nation and the world. 

So we come first to the book of John, most likely the last written of the Gospels, international in its scope, beginning with a macroscopic view, microscoping in to a third of John focusing on just 24 hours of Jesus’ life, heavily sprinkled with the word, “believe.” If I were queen of the Bible arrangers, this would be the book to begin the New Testament, rather than Matthew. But, perhaps I’ll have my shot in eternity. 

The second passage for this morning comes from the book of Ephesians, probably written by the great Paul as a circular letter, intended to be read in several churches in the area of Ephesus in ancient Greece and the far western coast of modern Turkey, home to several differing religions and ways of life - even back then. As a fledgling religion, Christians struggled with each other in the rigidity or laxity of God’s rules, and so Paul wrote a letter telling them to knock it off and start acting like grown-up followers of Christ. 

John 1:1-18 New International Version (NIV)
The Word Became Flesh
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.
The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world.
He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
(John testified concerning him. He cried out, saying, “This is the one I spoke about when I said, ‘He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.’”) Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known.

Ephesians 1:3-14 New International Version (NIV)
Praise for Spiritual Blessings in Christ
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and understanding, he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times reach their fulfillment—to bring unity to all things in heaven and on earth under Christ.
In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, in order that we, who were the first to put our hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory. And you also were included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession—to the praise of his glory.

Thank you, Beth/Mike. With all the sermons you may - or may not - have heard before in your life, you have to admit that there is a lot in these verses for thinking on. In fact, if ever a person should find themselves bored, sitting at a stoplight, waiting for a cashier, practically any one of these verses could give you enough content to do some real pondering. 

“The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world.” Go chew on that one for a spell, because the phrase “was coming” wasn’t meaning just then, but continuing since then. “Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.” Let that one twirl in your brain for a bit. “Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given.” I love that one, mainly because it sort of popped off the page at me this week, and so I throw it out to you, that maybe it might pop off your ears and your brain for whatever you may need of it this week.

Grace in place of grace already given. In terms of all things God, it probably mostly means that the Law - the Old Testament - all the rules that were intended to help us show God our love for God - which was not all about nefarious and odious rules of suppression - but ways to begin the expression of our gratitude to God if we had no other ideas of how to do that - how that ‘law’ was replaced by a greater gift of grace - the New Testament and the “law” of love made more understandable and relative to us human beings. 

But then I wondered, how else is that “fullness” we have all received - grace in place of grace already given? So I have these two cats, Bella and Gracie. Everyday they get fresh water, and every day a little bit is gone out of their bowl. In the winter, I catch the shower water that otherwise goes down the drain, waiting for it to be warm enough to use. I don’t use the bucket of collected water every day, but when I do, it’s for the humidifier. On the days or times that it’s not used, the full bucket sits on the bathroom floor, minding it’s own business. 

Even though the cats both have the “grace” of fresh water every day, this greater “grace” of the water in the bucket is so much more wonderful - for lack of a better term. Both Bella and Gracie have discovered the joy of drinking out of that big bucket, probably because it doesn’t cramp their whiskers like maybe the bowl does. 

But then there’s the added bonus for Bella - being able to dip her paw into the bucket and then lick the water off her paw. Actually, it’s not really her paw, but her entire arm - up to her elbow. She doesn’t make a mess of splashing the water all over like some cats might be apt to do. And I don’t know if it’s the novelty that it’s not available in the summer or just what all else, but there is a certain amount of ‘grace in place of grace already given’ in that scenario. At least in the world of felines. And it’s good that they are drinking more water than otherwise, too. 

Going back to the Ephesians passage, what spiritual blessing have you been given that is for the praise of God’s glory - that is over and above what might be usual in another person’s life? I can hear eyes rolling or the groans in some of your heads, that this is a question for everyone else, but me - meaning you. I understand how easy it is to think that God has given other people a particular gift, or that particular talent, but me, not so much. 

Except that’s not the way it is. If you had no particular grace upon grace, then why would God have thought about you before you were born - back when time began? Some folks might be tempted to think that others have been “graced” with an extra portion of compassion or the great super power of joy. While some folks have rather apparent ‘graces,’ others of us have quieter ones, or ‘graces’ that seem less consequential, like being able to catch the eye of a person who needed to be seen that day. Or maybe you are a huge influence in a person’s life, and without you, that person would be much the poorer in soul. Or using someone’s name who hasn’t heard it spoken in a few days or even weeks. It is easy to think that what we do is not a big thing, except that it is a big thing, because it is given to us by the One who was, is and always shall be the Word, through whom all things were made to the praise of God’s glory. 

It seems like the beginning of the year is a good time to be reminded of those things that we know - of God’s Creation, Redemption and Salvation, of Christ’s Love, Hope and Peace, and of the Spirit’s Indwelling, Inspiration and Empowerment. While not new news, it is even so, Good News, that we need to hear every so often. So shall we pray into that reminder?

God of Light and Love, thank you for your love, the love that is often times so far beyond our comprehension and sometimes inability to fully incorporate in our daily lives. In this new year and the weeks ahead, continue to remind us as you give us moments of using our grace upon grace in loving those you have given us. Help us to realize our lives as one foot on earth and one foot in eternity and how that not only changes us, but can change how we interact with our families and friends and even strangers. Empower us to be the praise to your name that you have seen in us from so very long ago. And all your people say, Amen. 

​First Congregational Church
December 29, 2019
First Sunday after Christmas
Scripture
“Lingering at the Stable”  (Stable Songs)
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching


Welcome to this Christmas Hymn/Carol Sing Sunday. With all the work that goes into getting ready for the holidays, when we have to move right on to the “next thing,” maybe we get cheated out of some of that reflection and reveling time. So it’s a good thing, that within the church calendar, there is generally at least one Sunday where we get to appreciate how all the preparations have come together, and today, we will do that through some of the songs, hymns and spiritual songs of the season. 

Besides “Of the Father’s Love Begotten,” the other most appropriate song to start a service or season is “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.” The tune that we know, found in the lower righthand corner, is Veni Emmanuel, music written for a French Franciscan Requiem Mass Processional in the 15th century. 

The words, however, are ancient, with some 90 scriptural references. Each verse of this hymn, originally there were six, refers to Christ by various Old Testament titles, like Emmanuel, Dayspring, Wisdom and Desire of Nations, exemplifying Christ as the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy. In addition to its anticipation of Christ’s birth, the hymn can also be interpreted to refer to the Second Coming. 

John M. Neale translated the original Latin verses into English. He was born in London in 1818, and over the course of his 48 years and ill health, John actually accomplished a great deal. He attended Trinity College in Cambridge, England, was ordained in the Church of England, spent 20 years as the warden for a retirement home for poor men, that he expanded to include women and orphans, founded the Sisterhood of St. Margaret, which became one of the finest English training orders for nurses, wrote two volumes of hymns for children and translated numerous hymns from Greek and Latin. 

If there is nothing else that comes from this hymn, it is a reminder, that even when we feel like we aren’t able to do much, God can do much with what we offer. Through all his pulmonary issues, Dr. Neale maintained a mixture of gentleness and firmness along with a high degree of courage of his definite and strong convictions, maintaining the greatest charity towards and forbearance with, those who didn’t agree with him. So let us stand and sing all the verses of #245, this most remarkable work.
“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”  #245  1-4
A fair number of our Christmas song repertoire comes from Germany, and then the next most common carols come from France, Italy, Spain and Scandinavia. So our very old, Polish carol of unknown origin, “Infant Holy, Infant Lowly, is rather precious. Unlike our first hymn that was published in 463 hymnals, this one has a been published in just 93 hymnals. And yet, it has been recorded by such famed musicians as the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, the Choir of King’s College, Cambridge, and opera singers Kathleen Battle and Christopher Parkenin. 

There is a fair bit of agreement that many of our hymns - of all types - come from the music of the people, including dance music. With that thought, it is quite interesting that this Polish carol, in 3/4 time, comes from the same place as the famous Frederic Chopin, most notable for his rhythmic mazurkas. If we put such carols and music into our feet, how much deeper will they go into our hearts and minds and souls? Despite what the bulletin says, you can remain seated for the singing of our next two hymns. 

“Infant Holy, Infant Lowly”  #279  both

“While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night" was "the only Christmas hymn to be approved by the Church of England in all of the 18th century and this allowed it to be disseminated across the country with the Book of Common Prayer." This was because most carols, which had roots in folk music, were considered too secular and thus not used in church services until the end of the 18th century.

The original “story” was in six verses, telling the story of Christ’s birth from the shepherds point of view. The writer of this song, Nahum Tate, was born in Ireland, but lived most of his life in London. Mr. Tate wasn’t a household name by any stretch, but he was appointed poet laureate and royal historiographer, even though he died while living at a refuge for debtors.

There is a “joke” that musicians like to toss around, saying that much of Emily Dickinson’s poetry can be sung to the song “Yellow Rose of Texas.” To that point, down in the bottom righthand corner, under the tune’s name of Christmas, C.M. with Repeat stands for Common Meter, which is 4/4 time. Any song with a common meter can be interchanged with any other song with a common meter. 

So in Cornwall, this carol is sung with the tune usually sung with “O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing,” while the rest of the United Kingdom uses the tune Winchester Old. Here in the states, is it most commonly sung to Christmas, the tune based on a soprano aria by George Frederic Handel. It’s not just every song - or text - that becomes so associated with a classical composer. 

“While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks”  #272  1 & 4

Noël is the French word for Christmas and is from the Latin natalis, meaning "birthday." Though “The First Noel” is often used for Christmas, its narrative is actually better suited to Epiphany, as its loose basis on Luke 2 and Matthew 2 includes the wise men. 

This carol is an anonymous folk song, believed to date from the 13th or 14th century, a time in which all medieval civilization in Europe was springing to life, and used in dramatizations of favorite Bible stories for holidays called the Miracle or Mystery Plays. Most medieval poetry was written to be sung, so it is presumed that the words were written with an existing tune in mind. This probably makes the tune to the song even older, and is likely English or French, which makes it a lot like a lot of us - mixed combinations of elements that come together in some good and lasting ways. And thank you, God, for that! Let us stand and sing verses 1, 3, 4 and 5 of “The First Noel”. 

“The First Noel” #265  1, 3, 4, 5

“Joseph Dearest, Joseph Mine” is perhaps the most obscure carol we have this morning. With the tune, Resonet in Laudibus” and the translator both being anonymous, there is little with which to fill out this song. Except that it is a sort of lullaby, and it has Joseph asking to rock the baby, so maybe, at the very least, it could be called one of the more progressive Christmas carols. 

Edward L. Stauff put this particular harmonization - or chording - together, and he is most definitely our most contemporary music contributor this morning. The Choral Public Domain Library says that he is a software engineer by trade and a musician by calling. And he even has a couple of emails and a website (that doesn’t work.) 

Back in the 1400s, when people were not allowed to attend pagan plays, the Church sponsored various Christmas and Easter mystery plays that provided sacred entertainment interwoven with religious instruction. It’s good food for the soul - when it can span 700 years and still speak to the creative parts of us. Feel free to remain seated as we sing the two verses of this classic carol.

“Joseph Dearest, Joseph Mine” S 89

I have to admit that I hadn’t heard of Ken Bible, the writer of the lyrics for “Love Has Come!”, born in 1950. Like so many others we’ve heard of this morning, Mr. Bible took an old melody that is attributed to the son from a long line of herdsmen from Provence, France, put it on top of the familiar “Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella,” and came up with a Christmas carol that not only speaks about God’s love, but makes great sense in our modern day. Mr. Bible was rather brilliant in putting his text onto a tune that most of us know, one degree to another. And he helps us to see that it was Love, with a capital L, lying in that manger. “Love Has Come” helps us to actually see that “The heavens could not contain the message of God’s love to humanity, so it exploded in the Bethlehem skies. That’s the gift of Christmas, the love of God brought to us in Jesus Christ, God in the flesh.” So let us give ourselves some of that message, in the singing of verses 1 & 2. 

“Love Has Come!” 256  1, 2

When it comes to the song, “Away in a Manger,” any musician worth their salt would make sure to specify: Kirkpatrick or Murray. Long thought to be the work of Martin Luther, modern thought is that, maybe not so much. In fact, the tune was once known as Luther’s cradle hymn, but in the lower right corner, you can see how the non-attribution to Luther has caused even the tune name to be contemporized. To add even more to the obscurity of this beloved hymn, no one is sure about the words, especially the entire third verse. 

As you all have, no doubt, become more sensitive to the wealth of information included on the pages of our hymnals, you can see in the lower left corner that today we are singing Kirkpatrick’s version - or as it is in my head - the other version. 

William James Kirkpatrick was born in Ireland, and when he was about two, his parents immigrated to the US, leaving him behind, thinking that he was too young, although his mother gave birth on the ship during the crossing. By the time he was sixteen, Kirkpatrick was living in Philadelphia, studying music and carpentry, because even back then, musicians didn’t make enough working just one job. Along with voice studies, he also took on cello, fife, flute, organ, and violin. Throughout his life, Mr. Kirkpatrick was a Sunday School teacher, a member of the church choir, a Fife-Major of the 91st Regiment of the Pennsylvania Volunteers, and continued to write and publish hymns, ending with a career track of 49 major books. Mr. Kirkpatrick might have - might not have - but might have thought of his life, being separated from his parents at a young age as a rather large stumbling block in his life. If he did, we surely don’t see it in what was left of his life after he died. May we so be inspired - not only by the sweetness and beauty of the words of this precious carol - but in the life and legacy of the man who wrote the music for it. 

“Away in a Manger” #261 or #262   1-3

Those paying attention to the bulletin and the verse numbers to be sung may be a bit confused, indicating that we would sing verses 1, 2 and 4 of “Go, Tell It,” because there are just three verses in our hymnals. Not to be one to gloat, I would like to point out all the rest of the bulletin that doesn’t have any mistakes. Just sayin’.

Technically an African-American spiritual song, “Go, Tell It” is considered a Christmas carol because its original lyrics celebrate the Nativity of Jesus. The only tune ever associated with it is “Go Tell It,” but one group that adapted the song was Peter, Paul and Mary, rewriting the lyrics to refer to the civil rights struggle of the early 1960s, making reference to the Exodus and using the phrase "Let my people go”.

It’s an interesting premise, “telling it on the mountain”. In the Bible, the mountain often represents the holy presence of God, the mountain being a barrier between  the Israelites and God’s presence, much like the curtain in the temple dividing the people from the Holy of Holies. Moses has to go up the mountain to receive the Ten Commandments and to see the Promised Land. In the Gospel, Jesus is transfigured on a mountain. In the Old Testament especially, the mountain is a place that is set apart – not just everyone can go up the mountain to be in God’s presence. 

When Christ was born however, God’s presence came down to God’s people in a new form, in the helplessness of a baby. In ‘Going and Telling,” we sing out the story of the nativity, as we become part of those who tear down the walls between us and God, so that the Holy Spirit can bridge our hearts with God’s. Going and Telling is a far more holy and sacred task than many of us might have previously thought.  

“Go, Tell It on the Mountain” #258  1, 2, 4

The writer of our last text, James Montgomery, was born in Scotland, the son of missionaries who left him to go to the West Indies, where they died within a year of each other. (One has to wonder about the lot of hymn writers and the difficulty of their early lives!) 

On failing to complete his schooling, he was apprenticed to a baker, then to a store-keeper. After an unsuccessful attempt to launch a literary career in London, Montgomery became an assistant auctioneer, bookseller and newspaper printer and owner. He was twice imprisoned on charges of sedition, first for printing a song that celebrated the fall of the Bastille and again when he printed an account of a riot.

Even so, Mr. Montgomery published eleven volumes of poetry, mainly his own, and at least four hundred hymns. Some critics judge his hymn texts to be equal in quality to those of Isaac Watts and Charles Wesley. His poems tended to be rather lengthy, and some of them addressed some of the social issues of the times. One of his most famous poems came out of his imprisonment, called “Prison Amusements.” A large portion of his writings reflected concern for humanitarian causes such as the abolition of slavery and the exploitation of child chimney sweeps.

Being a great summation of the Stable Story, “Angels, from the Realms of Glory” makes sense to be placed at the end of such a service as this, because it commends us to go out as shepherds to worship where our journeys take us, just as it was for them. The refrain gives us an extra push, that as we go where Christ takes us, that we embrace the worship of that same Christ, in all our moments and paths, as a way of life, living in joy like that when a child is born. So let us do all of that as we stand and sing all the verses of our final hymn this morning. 

“Angels from the Realms of Glory” #259 1-5  (end)

First Congregational Church
December 29, 2019
First Sunday after Christmas
Scripture
“Lingering at the Stable”  (Stable Songs)
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

Welcome to this Christmas Hymn/Carol Sing Sunday. With all the work that goes into getting ready for the holidays, when we have to move right on to the “next thing,” maybe we get cheated out of some of that reflection and reveling time. So it’s a good thing, that within the church calendar, there is generally at least one Sunday where we get to appreciate how all the preparations have come together, and today, we will do that through some of the songs, hymns and spiritual songs of the season. 

Besides “Of the Father’s Love Begotten,” the other most appropriate song to start a service or season is “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.” The tune that we know, found in the lower righthand corner, is Veni Emmanuel, music written for a French Franciscan Requiem Mass Processional in the 15th century. 

The words, however, are ancient, with some 90 scriptural references. Each verse of this hymn, originally there were six, refers to Christ by various Old Testament titles, like Emmanuel, Dayspring, Wisdom and Desire of Nations, exemplifying Christ as the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy. In addition to its anticipation of Christ’s birth, the hymn can also be interpreted to refer to the Second Coming. 

John M. Neale translated the original Latin verses into English. He was born in London in 1818, and over the course of his 48 years and ill health, John actually accomplished a great deal. He attended Trinity College in Cambridge, England, was ordained in the Church of England, spent 20 years as the warden for a retirement home for poor men, that he expanded to include women and orphans, founded the Sisterhood of St. Margaret, which became one of the finest English training orders for nurses, wrote two volumes of hymns for children and translated numerous hymns from Greek and Latin. 

If there is nothing else that comes from this hymn, it is a reminder, that even when we feel like we aren’t able to do much, God can do much with what we offer. Through all his pulmonary issues, Dr. Neale maintained a mixture of gentleness and firmness along with a high degree of courage of his definite and strong convictions, maintaining the greatest charity towards and forbearance with, those who didn’t agree with him. So let us stand and sing all the verses of #245, this most remarkable work.
“O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”  #245  1-4
A fair number of our Christmas song repertoire comes from Germany, and then the next most common carols come from France, Italy, Spain and Scandinavia. So our very old, Polish carol of unknown origin, “Infant Holy, Infant Lowly, is rather precious. Unlike our first hymn that was published in 463 hymnals, this one has a been published in just 93 hymnals. And yet, it has been recorded by such famed musicians as the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, the Choir of King’s College, Cambridge, and opera singers Kathleen Battle and Christopher Parkenin. 

There is a fair bit of agreement that many of our hymns - of all types - come from the music of the people, including dance music. With that thought, it is quite interesting that this Polish carol, in 3/4 time, comes from the same place as the famous Frederic Chopin, most notable for his rhythmic mazurkas. If we put such carols and music into our feet, how much deeper will they go into our hearts and minds and souls? Despite what the bulletin says, you can remain seated for the singing of our next two hymns. 

“Infant Holy, Infant Lowly”  #279  both

“While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night" was "the only Christmas hymn to be approved by the Church of England in all of the 18th century and this allowed it to be disseminated across the country with the Book of Common Prayer." This was because most carols, which had roots in folk music, were considered too secular and thus not used in church services until the end of the 18th century.

The original “story” was in six verses, telling the story of Christ’s birth from the shepherds point of view. The writer of this song, Nahum Tate, was born in Ireland, but lived most of his life in London. Mr. Tate wasn’t a household name by any stretch, but he was appointed poet laureate and royal historiographer, even though he died while living at a refuge for debtors.

There is a “joke” that musicians like to toss around, saying that much of Emily Dickinson’s poetry can be sung to the song “Yellow Rose of Texas.” To that point, down in the bottom righthand corner, under the tune’s name of Christmas, C.M. with Repeat stands for Common Meter, which is 4/4 time. Any song with a common meter can be interchanged with any other song with a common meter. 

So in Cornwall, this carol is sung with the tune usually sung with “O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing,” while the rest of the United Kingdom uses the tune Winchester Old. Here in the states, is it most commonly sung to Christmas, the tune based on a soprano aria by George Frederic Handel. It’s not just every song - or text - that becomes so associated with a classical composer. 

“While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks”  #272  1 & 4

Noël is the French word for Christmas and is from the Latin natalis, meaning "birthday." Though “The First Noel” is often used for Christmas, its narrative is actually better suited to Epiphany, as its loose basis on Luke 2 and Matthew 2 includes the wise men. 

This carol is an anonymous folk song, believed to date from the 13th or 14th century, a time in which all medieval civilization in Europe was springing to life, and used in dramatizations of favorite Bible stories for holidays called the Miracle or Mystery Plays. Most medieval poetry was written to be sung, so it is presumed that the words were written with an existing tune in mind. This probably makes the tune to the song even older, and is likely English or French, which makes it a lot like a lot of us - mixed combinations of elements that come together in some good and lasting ways. And thank you, God, for that! Let us stand and sing verses 1, 3, 4 and 5 of “The First Noel”. 

“The First Noel” #265  1, 3, 4, 5

“Joseph Dearest, Joseph Mine” is perhaps the most obscure carol we have this morning. With the tune, Resonet in Laudibus” and the translator both being anonymous, there is little with which to fill out this song. Except that it is a sort of lullaby, and it has Joseph asking to rock the baby, so maybe, at the very least, it could be called one of the more progressive Christmas carols. 

Edward L. Stauff put this particular harmonization - or chording - together, and he is most definitely our most contemporary music contributor this morning. The Choral Public Domain Library says that he is a software engineer by trade and a musician by calling. And he even has a couple of emails and a website (that doesn’t work.) 

Back in the 1400s, when people were not allowed to attend pagan plays, the Church sponsored various Christmas and Easter mystery plays that provided sacred entertainment interwoven with religious instruction. It’s good food for the soul - when it can span 700 years and still speak to the creative parts of us. Feel free to remain seated as we sing the two verses of this classic carol.

“Joseph Dearest, Joseph Mine” S 89

I have to admit that I hadn’t heard of Ken Bible, the writer of the lyrics for “Love Has Come!”, born in 1950. Like so many others we’ve heard of this morning, Mr. Bible took an old melody that is attributed to the son from a long line of herdsmen from Provence, France, put it on top of the familiar “Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella,” and came up with a Christmas carol that not only speaks about God’s love, but makes great sense in our modern day. Mr. Bible was rather brilliant in putting his text onto a tune that most of us know, one degree to another. And he helps us to see that it was Love, with a capital L, lying in that manger. “Love Has Come” helps us to actually see that “The heavens could not contain the message of God’s love to humanity, so it exploded in the Bethlehem skies. That’s the gift of Christmas, the love of God brought to us in Jesus Christ, God in the flesh.” So let us give ourselves some of that message, in the singing of verses 1 & 2. 

“Love Has Come!” 256  1, 2

When it comes to the song, “Away in a Manger,” any musician worth their salt would make sure to specify: Kirkpatrick or Murray. Long thought to be the work of Martin Luther, modern thought is that, maybe not so much. In fact, the tune was once known as Luther’s cradle hymn, but in the lower right corner, you can see how the non-attribution to Luther has caused even the tune name to be contemporized. To add even more to the obscurity of this beloved hymn, no one is sure about the words, especially the entire third verse. 

As you all have, no doubt, become more sensitive to the wealth of information included on the pages of our hymnals, you can see in the lower left corner that today we are singing Kirkpatrick’s version - or as it is in my head - the other version. 

William James Kirkpatrick was born in Ireland, and when he was about two, his parents immigrated to the US, leaving him behind, thinking that he was too young, although his mother gave birth on the ship during the crossing. By the time he was sixteen, Kirkpatrick was living in Philadelphia, studying music and carpentry, because even back then, musicians didn’t make enough working just one job. Along with voice studies, he also took on cello, fife, flute, organ, and violin. Throughout his life, Mr. Kirkpatrick was a Sunday School teacher, a member of the church choir, a Fife-Major of the 91st Regiment of the Pennsylvania Volunteers, and continued to write and publish hymns, ending with a career track of 49 major books. Mr. Kirkpatrick might have - might not have - but might have thought of his life, being separated from his parents at a young age as a rather large stumbling block in his life. If he did, we surely don’t see it in what was left of his life after he died. May we so be inspired - not only by the sweetness and beauty of the words of this precious carol - but in the life and legacy of the man who wrote the music for it. 

“Away in a Manger” #261 or #262   1-3

Those paying attention to the bulletin and the verse numbers to be sung may be a bit confused, indicating that we would sing verses 1, 2 and 4 of “Go, Tell It,” because there are just three verses in our hymnals. Not to be one to gloat, I would like to point out all the rest of the bulletin that doesn’t have any mistakes. Just sayin’.

Technically an African-American spiritual song, “Go, Tell It” is considered a Christmas carol because its original lyrics celebrate the Nativity of Jesus. The only tune ever associated with it is “Go Tell It,” but one group that adapted the song was Peter, Paul and Mary, rewriting the lyrics to refer to the civil rights struggle of the early 1960s, making reference to the Exodus and using the phrase "Let my people go”.

It’s an interesting premise, “telling it on the mountain”. In the Bible, the mountain often represents the holy presence of God, the mountain being a barrier between  the Israelites and God’s presence, much like the curtain in the temple dividing the people from the Holy of Holies. Moses has to go up the mountain to receive the Ten Commandments and to see the Promised Land. In the Gospel, Jesus is transfigured on a mountain. In the Old Testament especially, the mountain is a place that is set apart – not just everyone can go up the mountain to be in God’s presence. 

When Christ was born however, God’s presence came down to God’s people in a new form, in the helplessness of a baby. In ‘Going and Telling,” we sing out the story of the nativity, as we become part of those who tear down the walls between us and God, so that the Holy Spirit can bridge our hearts with God’s. Going and Telling is a far more holy and sacred task than many of us might have previously thought.  

“Go, Tell It on the Mountain” #258  1, 2, 4

The writer of our last text, James Montgomery, was born in Scotland, the son of missionaries who left him to go to the West Indies, where they died within a year of each other. (One has to wonder about the lot of hymn writers and the difficulty of their early lives!) 

On failing to complete his schooling, he was apprenticed to a baker, then to a store-keeper. After an unsuccessful attempt to launch a literary career in London, Montgomery became an assistant auctioneer, bookseller and newspaper printer and owner. He was twice imprisoned on charges of sedition, first for printing a song that celebrated the fall of the Bastille and again when he printed an account of a riot.

Even so, Mr. Montgomery published eleven volumes of poetry, mainly his own, and at least four hundred hymns. Some critics judge his hymn texts to be equal in quality to those of Isaac Watts and Charles Wesley. His poems tended to be rather lengthy, and some of them addressed some of the social issues of the times. One of his most famous poems came out of his imprisonment, called “Prison Amusements.” A large portion of his writings reflected concern for humanitarian causes such as the abolition of slavery and the exploitation of child chimney sweeps.

Being a great summation of the Stable Story, “Angels, from the Realms of Glory” makes sense to be placed at the end of such a service as this, because it commends us to go out as shepherds to worship where our journeys take us, just as it was for them. The refrain gives us an extra push, that as we go where Christ takes us, that we embrace the worship of that same Christ, in all our moments and paths, as a way of life, living in joy like that when a child is born. So let us do all of that as we stand and sing all the verses of our final hymn this morning. 

“Angels from the Realms of Glory” #259 1-5  (end)

First Congregational Church
December 24, 2019
Christmas Eve
“Honoring Christmas”
Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching

Just after the dinosaurs became extinct and I was young, there were certain things that came with the lead-up to Christmas in the family. My great-aunt Eileen would deliver the plate of cookies and candies. If you were lucky and got the plate early, sometimes the fudge would still be soft and the divinity would be edible.

After Aunt Eileen’s “gift”, Grandma Anderson would drop off hot-crossed buns. Now there was a wonderful bakery in Litchfield, MN, but I’m pretty sure she didn’t get them from the bakery. And where ever they came from, I would guess that they were delivered to the store two or three months ahead of the time we would get them. Maybe a microwave would have softened them up, had microwaves been invented back then. I doubt much could have been done to enhance the hard dried fruits sown into the dry bread. The only saving grace about those hot cross buns was the frosting crosses. Even dried out frosting can be good when the rest is so not good. But bless all the hearts of those who give gifts with the best of intentions, because sometimes, their gifts live long into the future. 

Now that all of you are settled in, and not much more can be done in preparing for this infamous holiday - at least in the next moments - we all have the opportunity to hear the prophecies and birth announcement and news reports of that first Christmas night. 

I often struggle with changing this service, except that hearing the familiar words, singing the cherished carols and being together in this particular way brings a comfort and connection and grounding that can’t be obtained in any other way. 

While we worship, in a serene sense of timelessness, there is still upheaval - within hearts and beyond these walls, not so unlike some 2,000 years ago. Much as we’d like the story to be different, Joseph and Mary still had to travel nearly 68 hard and dusty miles to fulfill a decree made by people in high places. The savior born one night would eventually die by crucifixion. The hot-crossed buns remind us of the dichotomy of this season - that Christ was not born between a shimmering Christmas tree and a cozy fire crackling on the hearth, but in the midst of animals and dung and in a world loaded with violence, as Juergen Moltmann once said.  

As Scott Hoezee once said, God did not send Christ to be born into this world because it was a place of peace and goodness that would somehow mirror the peace and shalom the Son was meant to bring. God sent Jesus to this world precisely because it lacked those qualities. The world did not have to look like a Hallmark Christmas card as a precondition for the incarnation of God’s Son. Jesus was born into a world where people were at each other’s throats as often as not - a world agitating for change but unable to find words or actions with any hope of generating any real—much less lasting—change. And that’s not to mention personal sorrow and sadness and all the other dark places of life.

It is not because all is so dire in our world, that the Christ is born once again, but precisely in the face of life - all of it, so that by the Spirit of God, we can hear God speaking words of hope, of peace, of joy that can reset our souls and hearts and minds as the people God aspires of us - right where we are - right now. So snuggle in and let all the pieces of this night fall together in just the way that God needs them to land. Amen.