A Hymn for All, and for All Occasions!

A few weeks ago I attended the funeral of a member of our church who, with her husband, had moved to our town from Cardiff a few years ago; the funeral was thus a meeting of cultures as well as a celebration of her life.  The final piece of music was a recording of Cerys Matthews singing Calon Lân.  Inevitably, it seemed, some in the congregation joined in with the chorus and I have since tried to discover why it’s such an emotive song.

So deeply is it embedded within the Welsh culture that it could easily be believed that it’s far older than is actually the case.  The words were written in 1891, allegedly on a cigarette packet, by a poet known for excessive drinking, who would sit in the King’s Head pub in his home town of Treboeth and exchange verses for ale (‘poems for pints’).

Daniel James was born on 23 January 1848, one of five children; he became known as the ‘bad boy’ of Mynyddbach Chapel in Swansea.  He worked at Morriston Dyffryn steelworks, and later at a tinplate works.  When that closed, he moved to the Cynon Valley.  Here he was employed at a succession of three coal mines until, through ill health, he left the mines at the age of 68 and returned to live with his daughter in Morriston and died on 16 March 1920.  In later life he used the bardic name ‘Gwyrosydd’ (Man of the Moors), which appears on his tombstone in the Mynyddbach Chapel graveyard.

The tune was written on James’s invitation by a younger man, John Hughes.  He was born in 1872 at Pen y Bryn, Pembrokeshire and had already written ‘Cwm Rhondda’ for William Williams’ great hymn ‘Guide me O thou great Redeemer’.  The Irish-American writer Sean Curnyn claims that the combination of James’s syllables and Hughes’s notes results in something very profound and able to affect the emotions with absolutely no idea of what the words mean.  Little wonder, then, that it is sung in churches and chapels, at eisteddfodau, rugby and football matches and in stadiums and pubs across the country wherever Welshmen – and women – gather.

So much for the tune.  What about the words?  What is it about the words of one of the most diversely sung songs in the world - although rarely, if ever, sung in English - that strikes directly to the hearts of Welshmen everywhere?  It's not the land itself; that has its own song, 'Land of My Fathers'.  And it's not the brave feats of Welsh heroes of the past like Owain Glyndŵr.  Here’s a link to Katherine Jenkins’ recording, useful because it shows an English translation as the Welsh words are being sung.  What, then, do those words have to say to us today?

In December my regular Bible readings featured Peter’s second letter and I found a number of thoughts there that echoed the singular and fundamental message of Calon Lân (A Pure Heart).  The letter was written when Peter realised that he was close to death (1:13-15), and it has thus been described as his ‘last will & testament’.  Peter exhorted the church to accept the teaching of the Prophets (among which he probably included the early Christian writers such as St Paul (3:15-16)) and to reject attempts by false teachers to undermine the belief that Jesus would return.

Modern Christians tend to understand and interpret the Bible in ways that are determined by  their own traditions and persuasions but we can find common ground in understanding that, through it, God speaks to each of us in the context of our own experience and location.  Whatever that context might be, it will include a variety of ‘false teachings’ that we must discern and resist.

The essential need, Peter says, is for spiritual maturity, recognising that, through our knowledge of Him, God has given us everything we need for a godly life (1:3).  Peter gives us a list of key qualities that we should add to a basic faith: goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverence, godliness, mutual affection and love.  John Wesley referred to 'means of grace', and expounded (simplified?) the list as ‘engagement with the Bible, prayer, fellowship, spending time in silence and doing acts of mercy and kindness'.

As he teaches about the danger to Christians of false teachings, Peter expresses his concern for the purity of the church.  Pure is the word most translators have chosen for the Welsh (g)lân.  It’s a word for which it’s difficult to find an exact English equivalent; other words offered by Google’s translator inlcude ‘clean, complete, utter, holy, spotless, dear and fair’.

The message purveyed by these false teachers comes in modern ways to modern Christians, but is essentially the same as ever.  It is a message of permissiveness, the offer of present pleasure, material possessions and the complete denial of the existence of sin.  Peter describes the futility of this permissive freedom as a spring that is found to be dry (2:17).  In his first two lines, Daniel James writes, ’Nid wy’n gofyn bywyd moethus, Awr y byd na’i berlau mân’ (‘I don’t ask for a luxurious life, the world’s gold or its fine pearls’) and in the second verse he acknowledges that, ‘Pe dymunwn olud bydol, Chwim adenydd iddo sydd’ (‘If I wished for worldly treasures, on swift wings they fly away.’)

It has been suggested that Calon Lân is neither a hymn nor a spiritual song; why then should it have such a strong emotional appeal?  The third verse is a complete and constant prayer for the spiritual maturity that Peter encourages in his letter, ‘Hwyr a bore fy nymuniad Gwyd i’r nef ar adain cân Ar i Dduw, er mwyn fy Ngheidwad, Roddi i mi galon lân.’ (‘Evening and morning, my wish, rising to heaven on the wing of song, is for God, for the sake of my Saviour, to give me a pure heart.’) for, as the chorus repeats, 'Dim ond calon lân all ganu, Canu'r dydd a chanu'r nos.' ('None but a pure heart can sing, sing in the day, sing in the night.')

What songs bring you that ‘back-of-the-neck’ tingle of emotion?

Sources:

            Curnyn, Sean: The Cinch Review, 23.5.2013

            Felinfach.com

            Higgs, Gareth: comments on 2 Peter (Scripture Union: Word Live, December 2019)

            Sotejeff-Wilson, Kate: Found in Translation, 6.7.2016

            Walesonline.co.uk, 11.4.2019

Singing a New Song

I have the privilege of singing in a small choral group in my church.  From time to time we're confronted by a fresh piece of music that looks - to be frank - quite baffling.  There are notes everywhere; parts splitting, changes of key, it's as if a spider has crawled all over the page.  How do we turn this confused 'mess' into beautiful music?

Fortunately, we have a skilled and patient leader, under whose guidance we're slowly led to see our own part separately from the whole.  Gradually, we become more familiar with it and then learn to blend our notes with the others until, just at the crucial point, it all comes together and a wonderful offering of praise is presented, to the welcome admiration of those listening, as well as to the glory of our Living Lord.  It's a far cry from the puzzled apprehension with which we first greeted the sheet music.

Life itself is like that sometimes.  Indeed, it has been thus since the beginning of time.  Look at the ancient Israelites whom Moses led out of Egypt to the Promised Land.  When they crossed the Red Sea, they hadn't a clue where they were going; they simply knew that living under the Egyptian yoke couldn't carry on.  Once they were out in the desert, it was a different story; they began to experience difficulties, and grumbled often to Moses, comparing the food they now had to the comparative luxuries they had had in Egypt.

When they finally arrived and sent spies to explore the land, they still couldn't accept the story that Joshua and Caleb brought back of a land flowing with milk and honey (Numbers 13:27).  All they saw was the potential difficulty of overcoming the present occupants, who were rumoured to be giants.  They threatened to choose an alternative leader and make their way back to Egypt (Numbers 14:4).

Even in Jesus' day, attitudes had changed but little.  One day, he asked his disciples who they thought he was.  Peter - always the bold and outspoken one - said, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God" (Matt. 16:16).  Jesus then began to explain to them what this would mean, how he would suffer, be killed, and be raised to life on the third day.  Peter took Him aside and told Him He'd got it all wrong, that this couldn't happen to Him, only to  receive the severest of all rebukes, to be told that he was the Devil incarnate (Matt. 16:23).

Peter couldn't see the bigger picture.  He hadn't grasped what the Messiah had actually come to earth to do: to save all of mankind from its sinfulness.  He saw the Messiah only as one who would deliver the Jews from the grip of their Roman oppressors.

What about us: what's the bigger picture around our lives?  Where do we fit into it?  These are questions to which we rarely see the answers completely.  The results of last month's General Election brought shocks to many.  Some will undoubtedly question, 'how did this happen, what went wrong, how can we do better?'  Some will be fearful for their future in one of a dozen different ways.

However, if we are constant in prayer and persistent in seeking God's will for us, it's possible to view differently what may seem to those people to be a bad situation.  There may be a glimmer of light in the darkness.  The blessing is when we recognise that glimpse for what it is, and have the courage and imagination to seek God's strength to take it further.  We can only sing that new song when we follow the right notes.

They Just Don't Get it!

I'll confess it up front ... I'm guilty of diverting from my stated aim.  This blog doesn't specifically refer to an everyday article, theme or circumstance.  Instead, I'm hoping my illustration will prompt a parallel thought in the minds of my readers that will, in turn, focus their minds on the fundamental point.

One of my great hobbies is bell-ringing; I've been at it for fifty years or so, off and on, and - as I admitted to someone recently - I find it difficult to appreciate what it's like not to know things that to me are, after that length of time, second nature.  If you've never tried, it may surprise you that one of the most difficult aspects of learning to ring is the language!  If you visit a foreign country, aware that they speak a different language, you might well seek out a good dictionary and do some homework in advance.  This isn't a different language, however, it's all English ... but a lot of everyday words have different from everyday meanings.

To make things worse, there are instances where the same thing is known equally by two or more different words: had you ever considered that both 'over' and 'to' could mean 'after'? Or that 'in', 'down' or 'to the front' could actually mean 'earlier'.  And then there are normal English words, that not only preserve their 'proper' meaning, but also have a specific and totally different one as well, such as 'lead': it appears in its literal meaning as in 'take the lead in doing something'; but a lead (pronounced in exactly the same way) is also the name given to the basic unit of a method, or pattern, of ringing.

Two intelligent learners who trained with our local band last year focused my attention on this problem ... one that I'd never really appreciated before.  In the days when I learned to ring, a beginner remained largely silent and absorbed these things rather by osmosis than by being told.  Not so in today's world ... and all the better for that!

This isn't a new phenomenon, of course, and one that is far from confined to bell-ringing.  Most hobbies and interests have a jargon all their own that has to be understood by newcomers in order to gain the most satisfaction from them.  We can take encouragement from the example of St Paul.  In about AD 50, he visited Thessalonica in the north-eastern part of what today is Greece.  As a result of a riot, his friends sent him to nearby Berea for safety but the trouble followed him there, so he went further south to Athens, and waited for his friends to join him there later.

Making good use of his time while he was waiting, he chatted to Jews and Greeks in the market place.  There he was overheard by some Epicurian and Stoic philosophers who enjoyed the challenge of debating with him.  Some called him a babbler; others didn't understand what he was saying about Jesus and the resurrection, and thought he was talking about two foreign gods.  It was a far cry from Paul's intended message about the One True God!  (You can find the whole story in Acts 17:10-21).

During the autumn, I took part in a ringing outing, and overheard a conversation between our organiser and the man who had met us at one of the churches we visited.  He was explaining about a young learner he'd taught a while ago.  "He just didn't get it," he said, "He couldn't see how we knew which bell to follow when we were ringing a method.  Then one day,  he realised what we meant, what we'd been trying to explain one way or another for ages.  He suddenly shouted, 'I get it!' and then there was no holding him.  In a few months he was ringing stuff I could never master!"

Just like that trainer, and St Paul, those explaining the Christian faith are faced time after time by folks who simply can't grasp the fundamental but far-reaching simplicity of faith.  We don't have to earn our salvation ... it's already been won, once for all, by Jesus on the Cross.  All we have to do is accept that, for what it is ... a gift.

At Christmas time, we celebrate the gift of Jesus arriving on earth in the form of a tiny, vulnerable baby, born to a humble family in the Middle East.  Each year our church is transformed for a living tableau illustrating 'The Christmas Journey'.  Over the course of a week hundreds of primary school children, along with their teachers, pass through our doors to see a portrayal of the real story of Christmas.  It's surprising how many of them had no idea what this great festival time is all about ... and sometimes quite moving to witness their emotional reaction!

If you have been trying for years, whether in terms of Christmas, Easter or purely in everyday conversation, to explain your faith to someone close to you, take heart from the example of Paul.  Think how many thousands - millions, even - owe their faith to his determination not to give up.

Give us a King!

Squabbles over gender equality and gender superiority are nothing new.  I learned as a child a little rhyme, "Patience is a virtue, possess it if you can: Often in a woman, but never in a man!"  Depending who used it and their strength of feeling, those adverbs 'often' and 'never' could be exchanged for 'seldom' and 'always' to reverse the meaning completely.  My cousin and I would argue to and fro about this, until our attention was diverted by one wise mother or the other.  As an adult, I don't believe patience is gender-specific, but it is one of the facets of the 'fruit of the Spirit' that Paul lists in Galatians 5:22 (sometimes disguised as 'long-suffering' or 'forbearance').

Although it's elusive, patience is essential in many areas of life.  I understand, for example, that the early opening of the oven door to see whether the cake is cooked can lead to its ruin and, in carpentry, cutting the wood without careful measurement and marking is equally disastrous.  I once had a friend whose decorating skills were in great demand; he always said that a good job was 90% preparation and 10% application.

The same is true in politics, it seems.  One of our leaders has repeatedly stated his aim to 'get Brexit done' so that attention can be focused on matters that are vital to our nation's livelihood.  Many sources agree, however, that parliamentary approval of a deal will be not the end, but the beginning of several more years of negotiation to secure trade deals to replace those we will abandon.

When encouraging me to be patient, my father used to say that on his school exercise books was written, "If a job is worth doing, it's worth doing well."  Another of our leaders seems to have used the same books.  He advocates (another) re-negotiation.  When asked for his personal view, he seems to evade the question and argue that the reason for doing this is simply that 'it's what the people want'... or at least what they wanted a few years ago.

If you read 1 Samuel, chapter 8 (it's not that long), you will see that the people of Israel asked Samuel to give them a king.  In his wisdom, Samuel knew this would be a bad move but, after prayer, words of caution and more prayer, he gave in and did what they wanted.  It didn't end well.  In the centuries that followed, one disaster seems to have followed another and the one thing that was missing was what the people had given up ... following God's ways.

I've recently been reading from the penultimate book of the Old Testament and discovered this verse. "Then I broke my second staff called Union, breaking the family bond between Judah and Israel." (Zechariah 11:14).  This was part of one of the prophet's many visions of the future.  A few lines further on, I read of "a [foolish] shepherd over the land who will not care for the lost, or seek the young, or heal the injured, or feed the healthy, but will eat the meat of the choice sheep, tearing off their hooves." (v.16).

It seemed to me that the first of these parallels Brexit, breaking the family bond between this country and the rest of Europe, and the second underlines the way that our country has been neglected by its 'shepherd' as those in authority have focused all attention on Brexit, to the exclusion of wise government in many areas.

I'm reminded of my father once more and on this occasion, as a comparatively uneducated man, of his correct use of the subjunctive.  I had done something wrong and was being interrogated as to my reasons for this.  Trying to pass the blame onto someone else, I pleaded, "... because (my friend) told me to."  My father dismissed my excuse, "And I suppose if he were to tell you to jump in the Mere, you'd do that, too?"  (The Mere was the lake in the middle of our town, in which many have drowned over the years.)  My defence having failed, I was duly punished.

So, what do we learn from all this?  Two things, I suggest.  Firstly, if we really want Brexit, we have to be patient and realise that it won't 'get done' quickly, but will mean many more years' uncertainty in addition to the last three-and-a-half.  Secondly, that 'what the people want' is not sufficient justification for poor judgement on the part of government.  St Paul wrote,  "I will show you the most excellent way." (1 Cor. 12:31).  In the often-quoted chapter that follows, he defines the meaning of love.  Two verses jump out.  "love is patient, love is kind ... it does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking" (1 Cor. 13:4-5).

Zechariah's 'foolish shepherd' met an unpleasant end because of his irresponsible conduct; Samuel saw the hazards involved in giving the people what they wanted.  If we get what (it appears that) we want, it may well not be to our advantage.  Applying these truths to our individual lives, the moral seems to be 'have patience, seek what God wants.'  Maybe we should ask ourselves where we lack patience.

Not Just Poppies!

A couple of weeks before the Remembrance commemorations last weekend, I read a review of Armistice celebrations from past years in which it was pointed out that, alone among the countries of Europe, Britain has, for many years, seen the event only from its own point of view: 'Britain standing alone against the foe', and has ignored fact that, at those times, we did have the continuing co-operation of our colonies, often at a disadvantage to themselves, and of other nations under government-in-exile.

A few years ago, the Royal British Legion had a slogan, 'Wear your poppy with pride'; but just what do we mean by 'with pride'?  Is it pride for a victory in war, a gesture of triumph? Or is it pride in the sacrifice of heroic lives?  Some were so disgusted at these possibilities that they took to wearing white poppies, simply symbolising peace.

Last year's commemoration focused on the centenary of the end of the Great War and now, following an enquiry from a distant cousin challenged by a school project "World War I and my family", my thoughts have turned once again to the number of lives wasted; four years of slaughter in the mud, a generation destroyed ... and for what?  Peeled back to the bare bones, I suggest, it was to satisfy national pride, or even - thinking of the circumstances surrounding the Kaiser's birth - the ultimate result of a midwife's mistake!

But I want this post to be forward-looking ... what comes after the conflict?  I've recently been reading the story of the fall of Jerusalem in 586 BC, as reflected in the writings of Jeremiah.  For centuries, Jeremiah and other prophets had warned the people about their lifestyle, which was contrary to the Covenant God had made with them when He brought them out of slavery in Egypt.  At last the penalty had to be paid; they lost their precious temple and their city.  But, amidst all the threats and warnings, there is an indication of what will follow.  Despite what appears to be a devastating end to the relationship, there is hope for the future in the promise of a new Covenant (Jer. 31:31-33).

A J P Taylor and other historians have suggested that the very one-sided Treaty of Versailles at the end of the First World War was a contributory cause of the Second.  It heaped all the blame on Germany and imposed swingeing reparation terms in addition to the loss of territory and of its colonies.  Certainly, it gave Hitler a cause that he could exploit to persuade sufficient of the population to elect him to power in 1933.

Contrast this situation with the way that God dealt with the people of Judah.  Even before the invasion by the Babylonians, there was a promise of reconciliation.  This is, after all, what God always desires, that his people can dwell together in unity (Ps. 133:1).  In our Remembrance service on Sunday there were prayers for the recognition of the sins and shortcomings of the world: pride, selfishness, greed, evil division and hatreds; and of our share in what is wrong and failure to seek and establish the peace that God wills for His children.

This search for reconciliation is relevant to so much in our lives today.  It's not just the poppies and all they stand for, but present-day areas of strife and conflict as well.  At a personal level there is often discord between and within families, and within our communities there are clear needs for understanding, co-operation and reconciliation, and especially following Brexit ... whichever way things turn out in the coming months.

Each of us must answer the question, "What reconciling action are you being called to right now?"

Before it All Goes Pear-shaped

I'm sure I'm not the only one who, from time to time, has had this experience.  Something goes wrong, and results in a sickening feeling in which my predominant thought begins, "If only ..." 

My mind goes back to teenage, when I was given a big shelf clock.  It stood perhaps 40 cm. high and was quite beautiful; its only problem was that it didn't go.  Keen on finding out what was wrong, I attacked it rapidly with whatever tools were to hand.  Suddenly the spring 'exploded' and shattered other parts that, in my ignorance, I had loosened.  Instantly, a condition of 'not going' was transformed into 'completely ruined'.  Occasionally in the intervening years I've thought regretfully about this chain of events and the fact that I don't now have a clock to show for them.  It seems quite likely that it could have simply needed a professional clean and appropriate lubrication to unleash many more years of useful service.  If only ...

A few weeks ago, I attended a training session devoted to 'manual handling and working at height'.  One of the situations described by the trainer was one I could easily imagine.  Someone is using a ladder to reach items stored on a shelf above head height.  He needs to retrieve something that is just beyond his reach while standing erect on the ladder.  Instead of coming down, shifting the ladder and re-ascending, he holds the shelf with one hand while leaning and reaching with the other to gather the item he wants.  This shifts his centre of gravity beyond the base of the ladder, with the result that he falls and sustains injury.  If only ...

My Bible reading has recently led me through Luke's gospel and in particular verses in chapter 14, where Jesus is teaching about the cost of discipleship (Luke 14:28-32).  Here are two short parables that could prove relevant here.  Whether it's building a tower (some translations say it's a barn) or fighting a war, the meaning is clear:  work out first what it will need, what it's going to cost you, before going ahead.  It's what the professionals call 'carrying out a risk assessment' and it's very common in any kind of business activity, in both the commercial and charitable sectors. 

But I'm going to suggest an additional step.  In the Bible, both Psalms and Proverbs offer an endless source of good advice to the intelligent reader and I'd like to direct you to just three verses.  The first is from Proverbs, and reminds me of that clock episode.  "The plans of the diligent lead to profit as surely as haste leads to poverty." (Prov. 22:5).  We hear in respect of commercial deals about the need to 'carry out due diligence'; in this context, the diligence advocated is, in my opinion, defined by my second verse.  "Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; He will never let the righteous be shaken" (Psalm 55:22).  In other words, before building a tower, fighting a war, dismantling a clock or anything else that is important, call on the Lord in prayer, asking for wisdom and an awareness of all that the project involves, before deciding to go ahead with it.

My third verse was also culled for this article, but I find it summarises the way of my spiritual life.  "Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You.  Show me the way I should go, for to You I entrust my life." (Psalm 143:8).  I'm not saying I obey it faultlessly - who could? - but at least I open myself to God's leading.  If I choose not to follow what He advises, in the words of a familiar saying, 'on my own head be it'!

Keep it to Yourself

I've stopped being amazed by the extent to which the media can - and does - pry into the personal and private lives of public figures.  Whether it's pop stars, politicians or members of the royal family ... or simply the proverbial 'man (or woman) in the street', it seems that no one is immune from the revelation of their most intimate secrets.  I suppose in certain instances making known these details - provided they're true - is in the public interest if it prevents someone unsuitable from having particular responsibilities.  However, I'm convinced that, in the majority of cases, much more is revealed than is justified, purely for commercial gain and the titillation of consumers.

Jesus himself was vulnerable to public awareness.  Often after performing a miraculous healing, He exhorted the one healed not to tell anyone about it (e.g. Matt. 9:30, 12:16; Luke 5:14, 8:56) ... not always successfully (Matt. 9:31, Luke 5:15)!  Many have wondered why He did this; some theologians and commentators suggest that the time wasn't right, or the place, and that it didn't fit in with Jesus' plan for His ministry.  I wonder whether it might be linked to His experiences in the wilderness, where He was tempted by the Devil (Matt. 4:1-11; Luke 4:1-13).  Those temptations involved his bodily needs, the possession of ultimate power and His personal renown.  I think He tried to steer away from fame as a healer just as he refused to jump from the Temple roof.  It wasn't His aim simply to become a supernatural celebrity.

Against the background of these thoughts, I watched a woman on the bus either taking something from, or putting something into her handbag.  It was the bag itself that fascinated me.  It was long and black, with a zip at each end.  But these zips didn't meet in the middle; here there was a simple stud holding the sides together.  The bag was thus divided into three sections, possibly separated within; at the ends the contents were comparatively secure while at the centre would be those items more frequently required.

I thought how clever this design was, for not all things are of equal importance and some possessions demand greater protection than others.  When St Paul wrote about the body, he noted that "the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty." (1 Cor. 12:23).  Paul was writing about a corporate body, the 'body of Christ' - in other words the church - but he wouldn't have compared the principles of which he was trying to convince his readers to aspects of a physical body if the comparison weren't sound teaching.

It does seem that some sections of today's society are incapable of distinguishing what bits of life ought to be in which part of that excellently-designed handbag: what can be made public and what should remain 'behind closed doors'.  Perhaps the answer is to reflect on our motives and consider the example of our Lord.  If the aim of what we are about to reveal on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram is simply to enhance our own celebrity, then maybe we should think again.