Hymns for Advent (10): ‘Round orange, round orange, you serve as a sign’ (No 178)

Christingle services … a good resource for Advent

Patrick Comerford

As part of my spiritual reflections for Advent this year, I am looking at an appropriate hymn for Advent each morning. This morning [9 December 2014], I have chosen the Christingle hymn, ‘Round orange, round orange, you serve as a sign’ (No 178).

This is one of two Christingle hymns the Church of Ireland includes in the Church Hymnal: ‘It’s rounded like an orange’ (No 165) and ‘Round orange, round orange, you serve as a sign’ (No 178). Although they are Advent hymns, they are included among the Christmas hymns in the hymnal with an Incarnation theme.

During my two recent lectures on Advent Spirituality, I spoke of the Christingle service as a valuable resource for parishes and churches. A Christingle is an orange surmounted by a lighted candle and decorated with fruit and a red ribbon. This is a Moravian tradition that was introduced to Anglicans in recent years. It was developed by the (Church of England) Children’s Society, and has become increasingly popular in the Church of Ireland.

Saint Nicholas’s Church – also known as the “Sailors’ Church” – is the parish church of Liverpool ... Nick Frayling was the rector when he asked Elizabeth Consett to write ‘Round orange, round orange, you serve as a sign’ (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

This hymn in 1989 was written by Elizabeth Consett, a hymn-writer and teacher in Saint Catherine’s College, Liverpool, in response to a request from the Rector of Liverpool, Canon Nicholas Frayling, then Precentor of Liverpool Cathedral, for a suitable hymn to be sung at a Christingle service.

The hymn was first sung later that year at a special service in Coventry Cathedral to mark the 21st annual Christingle service of the (Church of England’s) Children’s Society.

I got to know Nicholas Frayling when he was resident in the Church of Ireland Theological College (now the Church of Ireland Theological Institute) while he was working on his highly-acclaimed book, Pardon and Peace (1996), which was launched in Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin. He retired earlier this year as Dean of Chichester.

The tune Lourdes is a traditional French is a simple and memorable tune that lends itself to being sung by solo children’s voices, with the whole congregation joining in for the refrain. This Pyrenean folk tune is associated by many Roman Catholics with processional hymns sung by pilgrims in Lourdes and with the song ‘The Bells of the Angelus.’

Please note that Stainer and Bell Ltd are the copyright owners of this hymn, and no commercial use whatsoever may be made of the text without prior permission from Stainer and Bell or the administrators/owners of the copyright.

The verses of this hymn follow the process of creating a Christingle, using an orange and the other symbolic decorations. As the Christingle is created, verses 1 to 4 may be sung one at a time, preceding or following each stage of the activity. Then the whole hymn (verses1 to 5) can be sung at the end.

The hymn is rich with symbolism that coincides with the symbols used in the hymn. The orange represents the world. The red ribbon indicates the love and blood of Christ. The dried fruits and sweets are symbols of God’s creations. The lit candle symbolises Christ, the light of the world.

Round orange, round orange, you serve as a sign by Elizabeth Consett

Round orange, round orange, you serve as a sign
That God made the round world with purpose divine.

The power of love is always the same:
Be glad, give thanks, rejoice in God’s name.

Red ribbon, you tell of the bloodshed and pain.
Which led to forgiveness when Jesus was slain.

Refrain

Ripe fruits freely given, this truth you recall,
When God hands out presents they’re meant for us all.

Refrain

Bright candle, the message you carry is clear,
The true light from God found a home with us here.

Refrain

Christingle, Christingle, shine out in the night.
To kindle among us that marvellous light,

Refrain

Tomorrow: ‘Advent’ by Christina Rossetti and Douglas Brooks-Davies

Finding a shared sense of humour in sermons in synagogues and churches

Howard Freeman shows visitors the Ark and the scrolls in the synagogue in the Irish Jewish Museum (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2014)

Patrick Comerford

I visited the Irish Jewish Museum in Walworth Road, Portobello, in Dublin’s ‘Little Jerusale,’ this afternoon with the Year II students.

Inevitably, there were questions and comparisons when it came to liturgical space and movement, the use of Sacred Scripture in public worship, the importance and role of the sermon, the person and role of the priest and the rabbi, and the place of a minority religious community within the wider community.

There were questions about the place of children in the public worship of community, the regularity and timing of weekday, weekend and holy day worship, and even the place of humour in the sermon.

I have been to this museum many times, with its small synagogue upstairs. Many of the neighbouring houses are plastered with brash posters opposing plans to develop this museum. But every city needs a Jewish Museum, and in the past I have visited similar museums in many other cities, including Rhodes, Thessaloniki, Vienna and Amsterdam.

The exhibits in the museum in Dublin are always poignant, with many stories to tell of families and members of the Jewish community in Ireland whose lives were changed irreversibly and with horror by the Holocaust.

But there are warm memories too of people, shops and the small synagogues that once lined Lower Clanbrassil Street, the South Circular Road and the small side streets of ‘Little Jerusalem.’

Howard Freeman gently guided the students through the former synagogue and the exhibits in the museum, and left us with a joke he had heard in a Saturday sermon by a rabbi:

One day, a rabbi visited the zoo and noticed that one of the gorillas was comfortably sitting in a plush armchair, with many learned books scattered on the floor around him.

On the arms of the armchair, he noticed, were two books the gorilla seemed to reading. One was the Bible, the other was Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species.

The rabbi was taken aback and asked the gorilla: “Can you read?”

“Yes,” replied the gorilla assertively

“Why are you reading these two books?”

“Oh,” the gorilla replied, “I am just trying to figure out whether I am my brother’s keeper, or my keeper’s brother.”