An article from the Cathedral Times
by the Very Reverend
Samuel G. Candler,
Dean of the Cathedral of St.
Philip
Alan Light has written a book about my hero, Leonard Cohen,
titled The Holy or the Broken: Leonard Cohen, Jeff Buckley, and
the Unlikely Ascent of "Hallelujah." Actually, the book is
really about how the song "Hallelujah" (written by Leonard Cohen) became
so powerful.
I have yet to read the book, but I
will. In one way, I don't need to read it, because I already know the
song. The song is said to have been undiscovered until Jeff Buckley
resurrected it; but I, and many other Leonard Cohen fans, sure knew it.
We have heard Cohen himself sing it in different ways. He is said to
have written some 80 verses of the song before deciding on the four that
occur in his album, Various Positions (1985); he has
sung others since. And whatever the number of verses, one of those
verses will always be:
There's a blaze of
light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you
heard
The holy or the broken
Hallelujah!
Advent, and even Christmas, can
be times for brokenness. Broken toys, for instance. There will be some
broken toys this Christmastide, startling introductions for children to
the way the rest of their lives will be.
Broken
promises. Maybe it was a gift that you were promised last year. Maybe it
was something you promised several months ago that you just cannot
fulfill now. Broken plans. One family member wanted to visit one in-law,
but the other family member had another in-law in mind. Maybe some
illness prevented the perfect plan. "My water has broken," she said.
That means a birth is coming, doesn't it? Advent is, indeed, about a
birth coming, but something has to break first.
The
season itself is broken, isn't it? We don't know whether we are supposed
to be still lingering over Thanksgiving, or being joyful, or refraining
from singing Christmas carols because it's not really Christmas yet.
Are we supposed to be happy now, or preparing for something else? We
don't know.
Well, in the midst of whatever has
broken this December, let me assure you that something holy is here. In
fact, the most holy pieces of our lives are often the most broken
pieces. I mean our hearts, our lives, even our hopes and dreams. We've
all lost things in our life's journey. I believe that what makes a place
holy is that we have lost something there; we have given up something.
What makes a life holy is that it knows how to lose things. One reason
graveyards are holy is because they represent lost lives. Churches are
holy because we give up things there; I hope we give up our lives
there.
The Hallelujah that emerges from brokenness is
a holy Hallelujah; it is a genuine Hallelujah. That's why the Book of
Psalms is so full of Hallelujahs; those psalms are as much about sadness
and loss as they are about hope and victory. They are
holy.
So, don't be afraid if something breaks this
Advent, of even if you break something. That brokenness can be an
occasion for holiness. It can be an occasion to sing Hallelujah. When
Jesus came into the world so long ago, the world itself was overturned.
Mary said "God has cast down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up
the lowly." In fact, the power of sin was broken. The power of death
was broken, simply in that miraculous birth. In the end, brokenness is
the real reason we sing Hallelujah: the brokenness between God and
humanity is healed! The division is made one. God is made flesh in Jesus
Christ our Lord. Hallelujah!
The Very Reverend Sam Candler