Third Verse Now, But Not Forever (Christmas Eve Sermon)

Whenever we have a service with a lot of music, the combination of hymns, special music, and choir, someone always helpfully suggests that we could cut some of the verses of the hymns. “Why don’t we just sing the first and fourth verses?”, they might ask. This is a totally reasonable suggestion to which I, personally, have a completely unreasonable reaction. 

 

When this is suggested, if the Holy Spirit has an arm around my shoulder and a hand over my mouth, I might smile and say, “We could do that.” If my self-control has left the building, I will say, “But all the verses together tell a story and we can’t miss the story!” 

 

If there is a rare moment of calm and I am willing to share some of myself with you, I will tell you, “I want to sing all the verses because I am obsessed with third verses.” 

 

First verses are important. They set the pace and tone of a song and tell you what is to come. Second verses keep that tune going. Final verses wrap up the message, bring the chords to resolution, and permit the satisfying heart response of “Aaaaaaa-men”, whether or not we sing it. 

 

But that third verse, the third verse is where the gems are. The hidden theological caramel or peanut butter or even buttery mashed potatoes that bring the whole thing together and make it worth savoring. 

 

I am fully aware that some of you may be indeed hoping that the Spirit is going to slide her hand over mouth at any minute now, but stick with me for a moment.

 

The third verse of Amazing Grace, “Through many dangers, toils, and snares, I have already come; ‘tis grace has brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.” This verse isn’t about what happened before, like the first verse, or even what will happen in the distant future, as in later verses. The third verse is about what grace is doing right now- getting us through dangers, toils, and snares. This amazing action means we can count on grace in the next step and the next and the next. 

 

The third verse of A Mighty Fortress sings a song of God overpowering the forces of evil, in the present. The might of the tyrant is doomed to fail for one little word, “Jesus”, subdues him. 

 

Third verse of Great is Thy Faithfulness: “Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth, thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide; strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow, blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside.” 

 

The third verse often carries the deepest thoughts of the hymn writer, the present reality of what it means to trust in the God who made us, knows us fully, and is the very ground and source of all that is and was and will be, in us and around us. 

 

Lest you think this only applies to hymns, the third verse of The Star-Spangled Banneraffirms that said banner does indeed still wave over the land of the free and the home of the brave. The third verse of Home on the Range tells us the singer would not exchange his home on the range for any other place. The third verse of Johnny Cash’s Walk the Line: “As sure as night is dark and day is light/ I keep you on my mind both day and night/

And happiness I've known proves that it's right/ Because you're mine, I walk the line.” Johnny is summing up that walking the line for (or with) his beloved brings him happiness that couldn’t come from other behavior. 

 

So, what does all this third verse nonsense have to do with Christmas? 

 

My point, and I do have one, is that the third verse of the Christmas carols and songs is the best verse. We might know the first best, but the truth of God’s gift to the world in Christ, the miracle of God’s ongoing love with us, the joy of Christ’s real presence all around us is in the third verse. The first verses give us joy for tonight, but the third verses give us the hope and peace we need to live all the other days of the year, believing in the truth of Emmanuel, which means “God with us”. 

 

Away in a Manger: Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay/close by me forever and love me, I pray./ Bless all the dear children in thy tender care and fit us for heaven, to live with thee there. 

 

The Bells of Christmas: Now let us go with quiet mind, the swaddled babe with shepherds find, to gaze on him, who gladdens them, the loveliest flower of Bethlehem.

 

O Little Town of Bethlehem: How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given. So God imparts to human hearts, the blessings of his heaven…

 

Angels from the Realms of Glory: Sages, leave your contemplation, brighter visions beam afar, seek the great desire of nations, you have seen his natal star…

 

Joy to the World: He comes to make his blessings known, far as the curse is found… (It doesn’t matter if you think the curse is original sin or human desire for control or total depravity, Christ comes to make his blessings known over and above all those things.) 

 

And, of course, I cannot leave out: 

 

I Am So Glad Each Christmas Eve: He dwells again in heaven’s realm, the Son of God today; and still he loves his little ones and hears them when they pray. 

 

The third verses of our Christmas hymns tell us what God is still doing in this world, the God who became flesh and lived among us and showed what true love and life and forgiveness and healing are. Not only what they are, but that all these things and much more are the Divine desire for us and for all creation. 

 

In God’s own four verse hymn, bringing order out of chaos at the very beginning was the prelude. The first verse was the covenants with Israel and the promises kept to all our ancestors, to Abraham and Sarah, to Hagar and Ishmael, to David and to Bathsheba, to the people in exile, and to the prophets who spoke of a future they might not live to see. 

 

God’s second verse is what we celebrate today: the Incarnation, the timely reality of God with skin on in the person of Jesus. The eternal Word of truth and love and power made flesh and experiencing life as we do, including death, but showing power and triumph over all evil and threats to separate us from God’s forever love. 

 

We live in the third verse, the verse of toils and dangers and snares, but also of an ever-present grace. In this verse sometimes we hear the angels sing. Sometimes we tell it on the mountain. Sometimes we take it to the Lord in prayer. Sometimes we ask the Lord to take us by the hand and lead us home. Sometimes we remember that we have nothing to dread or fear and we lean on the everlasting arms. 

 

We live a third verse life, but we also know and can believe, with God’s help, that a fourth verse is coming. A verse where everything is made new, a verse when peace reigns in clear and tangible ways, a verse where all the chords resolve and we can, together with all the saints and the angels, sigh out that “Aaaaaaa-men.” 

 

But we aren’t there yet. Still, we sing our third verse, but we do it together, with the light of Christ- from the manger, from the font, from the table, from the cross, from the empty tomb, and from our hearts to all around us. We live a third verse life of God with us, no matter who or where we are, what we have done or left undone, or- even- whether or not we can carry a tune. 

 

Because, in the end, it is not our song. It is the song of our God. It is a song of harmony and power- started “in the beginning” and will have no end. 

 

So, on this night, my friends in hope and in Christmas joy, let us sing out all the verses of God’s wonderous work in Jesus. Let us rejoice that unto us a Savior has been born. And let us remember, in our third verse life, that the song of God’s love is for all people, for every day, for every night, forever. 

 

Amen.

 

Hark Anticipation

My favorite Christmas carol is “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.” Pastor’s prerogative allows me to put this song at the end of the Christmas service. It is rousing and ends on a strong note. Most important to me, the words of this song give me great comfort and encouragement.

I especially love the second half of the third verse, “Mild he lays his glory by, born that we no more may die/ born to raise each child of earth, born to give us second birth.” For me, these two phrases sum up the Incarnation. Jesus doesn’t come as a fire-breathing, chariot-driving, fear-mongering salesman of salvation. Instead, he is mild- a healthy infant, wrapped tightly, representing God’s willingness to break into time and space and flesh and breath and blood and water.

Jesus comes for each child of earth. Not only for those who will perceive him as the Messiah, but also for those who will deny him, those who will betray him, those who will doubt, and those who just are not sure. The second birth, through water and the Spirit, is more than the one moment of our baptism, but the regular opportunities we have- through grace- to be a part of what God is doing in the world for Christ’s sake.

As soon as we round the church year corner that is Christ the King Sunday, my whole body anticipates singing “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing!” Since it is a Christmas song, I usually have to wait until Christmas Eve for us to carol out these words together. We do not always get the last verse in the Family Service (at 5:30 pm). Thus, it is finally at about 9:30 on Christmas Eve- after candles and communion and everything- that the words that give me chills finally ring out into the night.

This is Christmas for me and it is the moment I anticipate each year. A full-throated burst of this song is the greatest gift to me because it make me grateful, all over again, for the greatest gift the world has ever received. “Veiled in flesh the Godhead see! Hail, Incarnate Deity!/ Pleased as man with us to dwell, Jesus our Emmanuel.”

Hemmed in Thanksgiving (Sermon 11/18)

Isaiah 6:1-8

            There are many details in this story that can be distracting. Who was King Uzziah? What exactly does a seraph look like?  Why is Isaiah’s call to be a prophet happening six chapters in, instead of in chapter 1? All of these are good questions, but not ultimately what this short passage is about.

            Isaiah is in the holy of holies, inside the innermost part of the temple. He is a having a vision or an experience, where the shapes on the Ark of the Covenant are slowly transformed until they are no longer carvings, but are revealing to him the activity that happens around the throne of God.

            When Isaiah says, “Woe is me…” This is not a Charlie Brown-kick-the-dirt kind of grousing. It’s a gulp of terror. To see God, in Hebrew Scriptures, is to know that you are about to die. No one sees the face of God and lives. Isaiah has nothing to offer; yet what happens next isn’t based on what he can bring. It’s based on what God can do and how Isaiah responds.

            God’s attendants come and purify Isaiah, giving him a real experience of forgiveness and grace in the presence of God… mercy when he expected to die, absolution without a sacrifice or offering, righteousness on God’s terms (not human definitions). Thus, Isaiah is so moved that when God converses with the heavenly host: Who will go for us? Whom shall I send?- Isaiah pipes up, “I’ll go! Send me!”- even before he knows what he will be asked to do or say.

            Isaiah is so grateful for his life and for grace, that he’s willing to undertake a task from God- the details of which he does not know, but if he thought for a minute about prophetic history, he’d probably offer someone else’s name instead. Isaiah realizes that God does not abandon unclean people, but makes them holy, makes them ready, and invites them into the work that needs to be done. He says, “Send me”, not because he is an amazing prophet, but because he recognizes the grace in being involved in God’s work in the world.

            How much of God does Isaiah see? Certainly not God’s face or even God’s hands- these are not visible. Isaiah only gets a view of God’s feet: “The hem of God’s robe fills the temple.” Only God’s feet… but it is enough. This experience, God’s feet and hem, an encounter with forgiveness, is enough to move Isaiah to gratitude and to action.

            In the coming week, most of us will be considering the things for which we are grateful. We will listen to others around us say for what they are thankful. Almost in the same breath, as we speak of gratitude, we will think of new things that we want or perceive that we need. What if we stopped and just thought about the hem of God’s robe? What if we became absorbed, like Isaiah, in a vision of God’s activity in the world, in our communities, in our lives? And what would happen if we realized that all we are grateful for, all that we are able to perceive is just the hem of God’s robe?

            It’s not the whole picture. It’s not even half. The grace that we are able to comprehend is just the tip of the iceberg. And yet it is enough. It is enough for us to know just this much and to not die. Let this be your Thanksgiving thought: all that you can think of to list as blessings in your life barely begins to list all that God has done for you.

            So it is for all people and all creation. Having received more, and costlier, grace than we can comprehend through Christ, may God’s Spirit move our thanksgiving beyond “thank you” to “Here I am. Send me” – a thanksgiving response to the grace of in being involved in God’s work in the world.

Amen.