WORTHY
I can’t enter into this Advent season without carrying memories of singing The Messiah at Luther College under the spirited direction of Weston Noble.
Valders 117 was transformed from a lecture hall into a choir rehearsal space. All were welcome to sing in the chorus. There was no need to audition, no experience required. A Star Tribune article published at the time of Weston’s death describes this ministry beautifully:
Noble’s passion for music worked like a magnet. He directed packed performances of Handel’s “Messiah” at Luther for 56 years, with student soloists and a chorus pushing a thousand, open to anyone. Each fall, posters went up that read, “Weston wants YOU to sing in the Messiah.” Noble prized the opportunity that Luther gives non-majors to participate in high-level music on campus. He liked to tell the story of a football player who ran up to him after singing in a “Messiah” performance and shouted, “What happened to me up there? I’ve never felt like this before.”1
I remember the way the bleachers shifted beneath me–throwing me off balance–as that enormous choir stood to sing each chorus on Saturday night of Juletide weekend (now Christmas at Luther) in the Regents Center gym. That feeling of unsteadiness on my feet was a metaphor for my life, then and now. But as we sang I was steadied, transfixed by the transparent faith of Weston Noble and the sublime experience of singing God’s praises with such power and beauty and grace.
The last word of Handel’s Messiah is amen. Six pages of amens, to be precise. Yes, we sing with our amen. Yes, we believe it. Yes, we agree it is so.
And what are we saying yes to with our amen? Everything that has come before, but perhaps especially the penultimate piece, the chorus that comes just before all those amens:
Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, and hath redeemed us to God by His blood, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing. Blessing and honour, glory and power, be unto Him, be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever, for ever, for ever, and ever, for ever and ever, for ever and ever, for ever and ever, for ever, for ever and ever, for ever and ever.
AMEN!
[Listen at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SnnWP7lvzQQ]
Today, for the first time, I noticed that we sing of the Lamb’s worthiness in response to the air for soprano that precedes it: If God Be for Us, Who Can Be Against Us?
[Listen at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2l67L-tm8CE]
No charges can be brought against God’s beloved ones. No one gets to decide their worth. No one gets to say that they are beyond redemption. No one gets to condemn them. It’s God’s call.
And what does God decide, EVERY time?
You are worthy.
You are worthy of love. You are worthy of forgiveness. You are worthy of grace. You are worthy of resurrection.
The soprano solo ends brilliantly: It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is at the right hand of God, who makes intercession for us.
The Lamb who is worthy makes it possible for us to be worthy too–worthy of second chances, worthy of a word of hope and promise, worthy of new life emerging from deepest death. Amen!
Breathtakingly beautiful prose, pointing beyond itself to an even more breathtaking beauty:
“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.”