9

The Joy of his Presence           

Margaret Whittaker 

Jesu joy of man’s desiring Holy wisdom, love most bright
Drawn by Thee our souls aspiring soar to uncreated light
Word of God our flesh that fashioned with the fire of life impassioned
Striving still to truth unknown, soaring, dying round Thy throne

This Advent we are more than ever longing for the winter solstice and the slowly increasing light that comes as we welcome the birth of Our Lord, especially in this year of loneliness and hardship for many, we long for Christmas and the joy of his presence which this music awakes in me.

If I met Him, would I recognise Him. Would I be drawn by the warmth and charisma that drew all those crowds like a magnet during those three years of his ministry.

I think of Him as a man who needed to walk in the hills and find solitude to pray: who liked to eat and drink and talk with ordinary people. Who disliked hypocrisy and self satisfaction and petty regulations. Who taught about God’s love for creation and the kingdom through stories which are easy to remember.

Who was not impressed by wealth and social position but critical of established authority and rich people: was made furiously angry on occasion by exploitative business practices, by abuse of children and the poor and rejected.

Who himself owned nothing, was often hungry, had no home, ate and slept rough or with friends when he could, and together with his disciples crossed and recrossed, on foot, the whole country that we call the Holy Land.

And everywhere he went he was healing the sick in mind and body and raising the dead, never refusing never passing by without noticing a need, and always forgiving.

He is the man too who wept, who was agonisingly afraid but who stuck to his Father’s purpose through death and into resurrection

 And now as I find him in my mind and touch him in the eucharist, I am in love, unworthy, comforted and endlessly thankful.