My early Christian life, when Noah was a lad, was spent in austere church surroundings. The main worship room (never called a sanctuary) was devoid of carpet, fancy ornaments or anything to brighten the experience. Yes, there were some flowers, but their arrangement caused arguments. I recall one conversation between a flower arranger and a self-proclaimed expert. The words were, “That is an interesting display. Have you been taught how not arrange flowers? “No, I haven’t.” “No, I didn’t think so,” came the reply.
Sunday morning services were strict and basic, with men wearing a suit and ladies wearing both a hat and a coat. Hymns were sung a Capella, being led by a precentor, and communion was de rigour every week. It was deeply moving stuff, I learned much but my worship variety was limited. At least we enjoyed an electric organ on both Sunday evenings, and during the midweek prayer/bible study meeting. I appreciated the love, warmth, and dedication of my fellow believers who, to their glory, attended three services a week every week, but I needed a more.
I discovered a youth group who met late on Sunday evening. The Group included young believers who were nearer to my age than to my parents. It was during this time I heard the Calypso carol, accompanied by the twang of an acoustic guitar but, sadly, no steel drums. I loved both the upbeat tempo of the song and the words. Although young in the faith, I understood the hope that the birth of Jesus brought to the world. The first lines, “See him lying on a bed of straw, a draughty stable with an open door, Mary cradling the babe she bore,” brought tears to my eyes.
I thought this was a traditional Caribbean carol, but it was penned by Michael Perry during his theological training at Oak Hill College. Ironically, the song became popular by accident. A BBC engineer erased the traditional Nine Carols from Kings College. Cliff Richard hastily put a program together and sang the Calypso carol as a solo. Although Michael Perry later questioned the quality of this carol, it spurred him on to write deeper hymns.
There can be a tendency to glorify the stable scene with a gleamingly white angelic host, immaculately presented shepherds, and bright sunlight. But it was a barn, and although we do not know whether the stable had doors, the song’s description is probably more accurate than the glorified image. Sometimes, we forget about our Lord’s humble birth and that is a pity because when we think that he was in Heaven, being born in a barn adds to the poignancy of his sacrifice. Despite these humble beginnings, he brought hope to the world.
Prayer – Father, may you Spirit help us to remember the humbleness of our Lord’s birth, and the hope brought. He was born in a barn, then died on a cross, for all of us. Thank you. – Amen
Michael Rolton
Comments