Dear Editor,
As a young boy, I looked forward to the season of Advent, especially to the declaration of John the Baptist calling all to repentance, clearing out the dark places in our lives and replacing them with God’s healing light. The first hymn we sang was always:
On Jordan’s banks the Baptist cry, announces that the Lord is nigh,
Awake and hearken for He brings, glad tidings from the King of Kings.
Even now I get goose-bumps when I think that this news from the King of Kings is a call to arms in these wicked times, and could be that time when John the Baptist’s voice, crying in the wilderness, would usher in.
But alas! All the preparation, all the house cleaning, all the painting, will still only be cosmetic. Why? Because our hearts remain with all the mold, rust, filth and scum which remain, like the mucus commercial on RV. Our people are still sitting in darkness, and though coloured bulbs will be flashing in all the towns and villages in our land, John’s touch will never, must never, focus on the dirty, greedy, secret, abhorrent areas of our hearts.
Today my heart beats fast whenever I think that even now, the proclamation of the prophet Isaiah to come together, to reason together, is simply awesome, mind-boggling even. But Alas! That simple faith, taking God at His Word, has been replaced with all manner of wickedness.
Why do I say this? Well here’s why. See how a once faithful country has become a harlot. There was a time when she was full of justice, and righteousness used to dwell in her.
But now murderers do! Our rulers are rebellious and companions of thieves, lovers of bribes and chasers after gifts. Look how they neglect to defend the cause of the widows and the fatherless, and their plight simply does not come before them.
Our courts have failed the petty thieves by dishing out four years for four Coke pints, while we hear all about “nolle prosqui” for the big boys. In the wider community, people “après” each other, man against man, neighbor against neighbor, thieves against productive citizens, young rising up against the old and the vulgar against honourable men and women.
Am I alone in this? Sometimes I get weary just thinking that I could become sick just caring too much about Belize, more than Belizeans do.
Amidst all this, though, I was introduced to a hymn in the Methodist Hymnal, No. 350, by Sister Brenda Armstrong, last Sunday at Church. This hymn really focused on the individual’s responsibility and need for that long-awaiting soul cleansing I truly need.
I wish I could sing this hymn, but I don’t know the tune. These powerful words will suffice:
With broken heart and contrite sigh,
A trembling sinner, Lord, I cry.
Thy pardoning grace is rich and free,—
O God, be merciful to me!
I smite upon my troubled breast,
With deep and conscious guilt oppressed:
Christ and His cross my only plea, –
O God, be merciful to me!
For oft I stand with tearful eyes
Nor dare uplift them to the skies;
But Thou dost all my anguish see, –
O God, be merciful to me!
Nor alms nor deeds that I have done
Can for a single sin atone.
To Calvary alone I flee, –
O God, be merciful to me!
And when, redeemed from sin and hell,
With all the ransomed throng I dwell,
My raptured song shall ever be,
O God, be merciful to me!
(Cornelius Elven, 1791-1873)
Lincoln Gillett