Hallelujah! Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his faithful love endures forever. [Psalm 106:1 (CSB)]
Hallelujah! Give praise, servants of the Lord; praise the name of the Lord. [Psalm 113:1 (CSB)]
“Alleluia” (or “Hallelujah”), like “Amen,” is a word familiar throughout Christendom. Meaning “Praise the Lord,” it is the transliteration of the Hebrew hallel, meaning to shine, be boastful, praise, or rejoice and Yah, an abbreviated form of the name of the Lord: YHWH (Yahweh/Jehovah). Although two distinct words, they were consistently written as one (halleluyah). In the Old Testament, this extraordinary word occurs only in Psalms. Usually found at the beginning, halleluyah was an imperative call to praise or boast in the Lord—a call to shine a light upon Him! Whether we spell this beautiful word the Latin way as “alleluia” or the Greek way as “hallelujah,” the meaning is the same. Many modern translations simply translate it as “Praise the Lord!”
On the Sunday prior to Ash Wednesday, the pastor at our liturgical church selected “All Creatures of our God and King” for the opening hymn at worship. As we sang its many alleluias, I knew we wouldn’t be singing any more of them until Easter. When our pastor was a girl, on the Sunday before Lent, the church’s children would process into the sanctuary carrying a banner with the word “Alleluia” on it. After being folded and placed in a box under the cross, that word and banner wouldn’t reappear until Easter morning. Although we don’t physically put away or “bury” any alleluias at our church, she continues the ancient tradition by eliminating them during Lent.
As a way of highlighting the solemnity of Lent, the “putting away” or depositio (meaning burial) of the alleluia goes back to medieval times. Choir boys would process into church with crosses, candles, and holy water while carrying a casket containing an “Alleluia” banner. The coffin was then buried in the garden until it was unearthed during the Easter vigil. In Paris, a straw figure bearing an “Alleluia” of gold letters was carried out and burned in the churchyard. After the Reformation, many Protestants continued the tradition of eliminating alleluias during the somber penitential season of Lent.
One modern writer compared putting away our alleluias during Lent to putting away all our Christmas decorations in January. If we had the tree, nativities, and wreaths out all year long, they’d lose their significance. Commonplace rather than special, they’d be ignored and unappreciated. Because we put them away in January, they’re treasured when we bring them out again in Advent! Without any alleluias during Lent, we appreciate them even more on Easter morning as we praise the Lord with every “Alleluia” in “Christ the Lord is Risen Today.”
While many hymns include “alleluia” or “hallelujah,” it occurs in only four New Testament verses, all in Revelation 19, when a heavenly chorus sings “Hallelujah!” at the marriage supper of the Lamb. While Lent is a time to focus on recognizing our sin and need for salvation, fasting from alleluias for seven weeks reminds us that our story is not yet complete. The day will come when Christ returns and God’s victory is completed. When that happens, we will be part of that heavenly chorus and praise the Lord while singing “Hallelujah!”
The greatest adventure in life—knowing God—begins at the Cross of Christ and ends with a “Hallelujah!” [David Jeremiah]
What would you do if you were six and your father said that your mom is in the hospital because she finds it hard to be happy and “did something stupid”? That question is answered in Duncan Macmillan and Jonny Donahoe’s one-act play, Every Brilliant Thing. In their play, that boy, now a grown man, tells the audience that he made of list of everything that was “brilliant” about the world—everything worth living for—and left it on his mother’s pillow. Reflecting a six-year old’s priorities, the list included ice cream, Kung-Fu movies, laughing so hard you shoot milk out your nose, burning things, construction cranes, and “me.” Although she returns the list with its spelling corrected, the boy’s mother never comments on it. Nevertheless, he keeps adding to his list. Although his mother eventually takes her life, the narrator tells how his list took on a life of its own and eventually saved him from his own depression and suicidal thoughts.
Unfortunately, much of our Advent season is not spent joyfully looking forward to celebrating the birth of the Christ child. In hope of finding the perfect gift for everyone on our list, we pore over catalogues and search for sales and coupons. Either we fight for parking spots at the mall and spend hours standing in line or spend those hours sitting at the computer while shopping on line! We then fret and fuss over wrapping those gifts, mailing packages and Christmas cards, hosting and attending parties, baking cookies, making travel arrangements, decorating the house, preparing holiday dinners, and paying the ever-mounting bills. When we say, “Merry Christmas!” we might find ourselves mumbling a Scrooge-like “Bah! Humbug” under our breath! Instead of looking forward to Christmas with anticipation, there are times we can’t wait until it’s all over and done.
In Letters to Malcom, C. S. Lewis wrote, “We, or at least I, shall not be able to adore God on the highest occasions if we have learned no habit of doing so on the lowest. … Any patch of sunlight in a wood will show you something about the sun which you could never get from reading books on astronomy. These pure and spontaneous pleasures are ‘patches of Godlight’ in the woods of our experience.”
Unlike Lazarus, we haven’t had a four-day encounter with death. Our family didn’t wash us with warm water, anoint us with myrrh and aloe, wrap us in a shroud with herbs and spices, lay us in a tomb, and mourn our passing. Most of us haven’t even endured a months-long coma, flatlined, or been brought back to life with an AED. How does such an experience affect someone? Without a doubt, the man who emerged from the tomb differed from the man who died four days earlier. Did Lazarus return to life with the 1st century equivalent of a “bucket list” of things to accomplish, places to go, things to do, and adventures to have?
All Saint’s Day for the Western Christian Church is November 1. While Roman Catholic and Orthodox church observances tend to focus on those who’ve been canonized saints, the Protestant church has a different approach to this holy day. Whether living or dead, it regards all Christian believers as “saints” and part of the Communion of Saints we speak of when reciting the Apostles’ Creed. For Protestants, All Saint’s Day is a time to commemorate Christian family members, church members, and friends who have died. At our liturgical church, there will be a solemn reading of the names of all church members who passed during the year. After each name is read, the bell will toll.
Devotions of the Heart 