A Scots Advent, bi David Ogston [May be led bi pairs o voices] Lord, hae mercie. Christ, hae mercie. Lord, hae mercie. Sauviour Lord, licht near at haun, The leal hairts wyte for you. The Lord is close by. Ay, he is close by. PARAPHRASE 39 – ‘Hark, the glad sound! the Saviour comes’ Praise be, the Lord is near haun! Glorie an micht an pouer be his for iver an ey! Blissit is him that comes i the name o the Lord! Lord, sain us an save us. Haud up yer heids, you yetts, Be liftet heich Sae at the King may come, The King o Glorie. Caa lowse yer snecks, you yetts, Yetts frae lang syne: Gang wide, gang wide an wyte for The King o Glorie! Yetts fae lang back, Be lowsed an onsteekit: Mak for the King o Glorie Throwe-gang an forrit-gate! Fa’s this Kíng o Glorie? The Lord douchtie an maisterfu, The Lord puissant? [faur-aff sound o a pap-bairn’s cry] Wee Lord, appearin for’s at the deid o nicht, We wyte for you. Wee Lord, appearin for’s tae be the Bricht An Glentin Starn: we wyte for you. Wee Lord, licht risin frae the howe o nicht, We wyte for you. CHAUNT (Common Ground 94) – [repeatit efter ilk invocatioun] O Lord, hear my prayer, O Lord, hear my prayer: whan I caa, answer me. O Lord, hear my prayer, O Lord, hear my prayer: Come, Lord, an tent ye me. O key o Dauvit, keeper o the yetts, Come an lowse them i the jile. O Mornin Starn, come an shine Braid licht on them at dwine In the howe-dumb-deid o daith. O Christ Immanuel, King abeen an King aneth, Howp o aa the nations, Sauviour an Prince o peace, Come an redeem, Redeem an claim, Claim an keep, you keeper o the yetts! The Halie Gospel o the Lord i the twalth o Saunt Luke, at the threttie-fowerth verse, fae the owresettin bi Lorimer: Whaur your treisur is, thair will your hairt be an aa. Hae your lunyies ey girt up, an your lamps lichtit, like servans waitin their maister’s hamecome efter a mairrage, sae at they mayna haud him staundin outbye, whan he chaps at the door. Happie thae servans at their maister at his hamecomin finnds waukin an watchin! I hear thae dunts, the dunts on a lockit door, the door o my steekit hairt. He comes tae tryst wi me, wi you, wi oniebodie. Sum day he wull come in glorie, bit for noo we merk the days tull he comes tae Bethlehem. We wyte. We redd up the bourach o oor days. Advent means comin. For the Wyss Men it ment waur nor that: it ment leavin – leavin hame. Juist like Mary an Joseph, traivellin tae the census. Onlie for the Wyss Men it wisna sae straicht-forrit. They left hame for a ferlie they wisna sheer o. CARRELL – Ane sang o the Prophet Micah ‘Til spaemen speirin, whaur' Staun forrit, Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar. We sud credit you wi Advent faith, like we heise up John the Baptizer, Mary the cheesin quine, Isaiah an his like. Yer leavin is an ack o faith. Aul, I jalouse, ye wis, bit yung eneuch tae start stravaigin. Ye wis telt, aiblins, at the affset, fan ye wis gettin roadit: “Ach, ye’r nae wyss! Aul men sud keep the ingle neuk.” That’s nae the wye the Bible tells it: bi Luke’s wye o’t there’s nae Advent withouten a wheen o aul fowk – Zacharie an Elspeth his wife, a gudelie, weel-deein pair. Bairns they hed neen, for Elspeth wis barren an weil up in ’ears. Ae day, i the verra sauntuarie o the Temple, an angel flegs the aul man wi a byornar promise: “Yer wife wull beir you a son; ye ar tae caa him John. He wull gang afore the Lord God, sowtherin the hairts o faithers an bairns, an lairnin the wanrulie gudelie gates, at the Lord may finnd a fowk aa redd an preparet for him.” An sae it comes about: John the Baptizer is born fae an apparentlie barren wyme an syne, fan he grows up, appears in front o’s in a real barren desert. Bit Luke hes mair aul fowk wytin for their lives tae be crouned an the mangin o their hairts tae be answert. Aul Simeon, gey faur ben, kens at he winna die tull he hes seen the Lord’s Anointit – an sae he daes, for on the day the wee Lord comes tae the Temple tae be dedicate, Símeon taks the bairn intil his oxter an praises God an says: “My een hes seen thy salvation.” An Luke tells tae o the aul wumman Anna, a gey an eildit carlin, nae less nor echtie-fower ’ear aul: she catches sicht o the bairn an gies thanks tae God. Sae – ride on, Caspar, wi yer incense. Ride on, Melchior, wi yer gowd. Haud forrit, Balthasar, wi yer myrrh. You ar amang the first; ye’ll nae be the last tae seek him an finnd him. Ye win throwe tae him fae a faur place, an you gie us at ar outlins howp an gydin. CARRELL – The Cushat ‘As I cam doon bi Jordanside' Advent comes in snell days. Throwe winter – the winter o aul age – comes John the Baptizer. Smaa winner, is’t, at een sae born, born out o due time an conter tae the wye o things, sud be a man tae lay an undue wecht on passin time, an chynges, upset an upheaval? John sees a warld cowpit tapsalteerie – an the wee Lord is the een tae dee the cowpin. Redd ye the gate o the Lord, Mak ye straucht his pads! Ilka gill an cleuch sall be meed queem, An ilka knock an knowe become a laich. The crimpelt gates sall be strauchtit An the roch roads meed sound: An aa livin will see The saufin wark o God! That’s John in his barren desert, a hantle ’ears on fae the day fan an aul man i the Temple said: My een hes seen thy salvation. Bit time disna maitter here: the twa voices are een. An we can add a third tae this chorus o walcome, this sang o upheaval – the voice o the cheesin quine hersel, Mary: He hes wrocht michtie deeds wi his wichtfu airm: he hes sperpelt the heilie an heich, at thocht proud thochts i their hairts; he hes dung hie princes doun frae their thrones an heized up the hummle an laich; he hes gien the hungersome their full o guid fairin an driven the gearie an gethert tuim-haundit awa. Chynge an upheaval is i the air. HYMN – ‘Tell out, my soul, the greatness of the Lord' Advent is a new beginnin, the New Year i the Kirk’s kalendar. John the Baptizer an Mary baith spick aboot a warld birlin on tae new values, new priorities. The time is near haun. The Lord is close by. The wirds o Saunt Paul is aye skeelie an richt at this sizzen: It is time at ye waukent outen your sleep, for salvation is nearer-haun nor whan we becam believers. The nicht is ’maist by; aareddies it is grayin. The Kirk hes aye kept siccar an strang the thocht at the Advent o the Lord warks on mair nor the ae livvel. The first Advent is the fack at winna ding – at he wis born; an Bethlehem wis the place faur the Licht o the warld cam tae a stable. The saicint Advent is the inner licht we can files gie testimonie o – the Lord at comes tae the believer, wi a fusper or a shoot. Tae the blaudit he comes, wi saws an saftness. Tae the forfochen he comes, wi virr an blytheness. Tae the waesome he comes, wi new roads tae tak. Tae the feart he comes, wi a stoot hairt. Tae the prood he comes, tae gie us a human an hummle hairt. Tae the thrawn he comes, tae brak oor granite wills. Tae the self-centred he comes, tae gie us braid horizons. An the third Advent is the time whan he wull come in glorie, tae mak aa kingdoms o the yird his Kingdom. Come, Lord Jesus. We wyte. The Wird is on his wye tull’s. HYMN – ‘Thy Kingdom come! on bended knee the passing ages pray ' “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ an the luve o God an fallowship i the Halie Spírit be wi ye aa!”