Advent, Day 11: Waiting Bride

LOOK: Dim Gold (Feast of Brides) by Mandy Cano Villalobos

Cano Villalobos, Mandy_Dim Gold (Feast of Brides)
Mandy Cano Villalobos (American, 1979–), Dim Gold (Feast of Brides), 2022. Miscellaneous found objects, dimensions variable. Installation at Bridge Projects, Los Angeles. Photo courtesy of the artist.

Mandy Cano Villalobos is an interdisciplinary artist whose projects span installation, painting, drawing, performance, sculpture, and video. She lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Drawing on the archetype of the waiting bride, the found-object installation Dim Gold (Feast of Brides) was commissioned by Bridge Projects for Here After, an exhibition exploring humanity’s hope for paradise. The artist writes,

Dim Gold is an allegory of marital covenant, bodily death, and the hope of love’s consummation in afterlife. The throne heap consists of discarded clothing, broken appliances, old lamps, unwanted toys, bruised furniture, fake flowers, stained curtains, human and synthetic hair, scratched glasses, deflated soccer balls, faded photographs, worn shoes, chipped figurines, kitchen utensils, costume jewelry, yellowed wedding decorations, cracked dishes, Christmas ornaments, mildewed books, and bathtub plugs.

From baby bottles and children’s playthings to a cane and a pillbox, the pile contains a life. (In fact, Cano Villalobos said she acquired most of the items from an old woman’s estate sale.) It’s a full life, but one of brokenness and decay. There is no permanence in this world. The otherworld—the new heaven, the new earth (a transfigured thisworld)—is what endures.

Cano Villalobos, Mandy_Dim Gold (detail)
Cano Villalobos, Mandy_Dim Gold (detail)

The Dim Gold construction is throne-like, all its components leaning in toward a central chair topped by seven white, ribbed shafts that fan out and that are suggestive, with the flame-colored flowers at the terminals, of a menorah. Lace, silk, and draped strings of pearls form the throne’s backing. With its dressed but empty seat that calls forth a presence, the piece evokes the hetoimasia (prepared throne of the second coming) of Eastern Orthodox icons.

The scattered, lit bulbs on shadeless lampstands allude to the burning oil lamps in Jesus’s parable of the ten bridesmaids (Matt. 25:1–13), which signify readiness for the Bridegroom’s return.

Cano Villalobos combines earthly and heavenly imagery in Dim Gold, an Advent ensemble that pictures the church-as-bride’s waiting with lights on, amid the ephemera of this life, for her groom to come take her home, where an eternal feast is spread in bright, delicious glory, and the two of them will become one at last.

LISTEN: “When the Bridegroom Comes” | Words by David Omer Bearden, 1973 | Music by Judee Sill, 1973 | Performed by Judee Sill on Heart Food, 1973

See the bride and the Spirit are one.
Then won’t you who are thirsty invite him to come?
With your door open wide,
Won’t you listen in the dark for the midnight cry?
And see, when your light is on, that the Bridegroom comes.

Into cold outer darkness are gone
Guests who would not their own wedding garment put on.
Though the chosen are few,
Won’t you tarry by your lamp till he calls for you?
And pray that your love endure till the Bridegroom comes.

When the halt and the lame meet the Son,
And he sees for the blind and he speaks for the dumb,
Let their poor hearts’ complaint,
Like the leper turned around who has kissed the saint,
Lift like a trumpet shout, and the Bridegroom come.

See the builders despising the stone,
See the pearl of great price and the dry desert bones.
By the Pharisees cursed,
Be exultant with the rose when the last are first,
And see how his mercy shines as the Bridegroom comes.

Hear the bride and the Spirit say, “Come!”
Then won’t you who are weary invite in the Son?
When your heart’s love is high,
Won’t you hasten to the place where the hour is nigh?
And see that your light is on, for the Bridegroom comes.
See that your light is on, for the Bridegroom comes.

Judee Sill (1944–1979) was an American singer-songwriter whose genre of music Rolling Stone refers to as “mystic Christian folk.” Themes of temptation, rapture, redemption, and the search for higher meaning permeate her work.

Sill survived ongoing physical and verbal abuse in childhood from her mother and stepfather. As a teenager, she committed a series of armed robberies that landed her in reform school, where she learned to play the organ for church and became interested in gospel music. Upon her release, after briefly attending a junior college and working in a piano bar, she got caught up in the California drug culture, developing a crippling heroin addiction and resorting to prostitution and check forgery to fund it.

While she was serving a prison sentence for narcotics and forgery offenses, her only sibling, Dennis, died of an illness, and she was devastated. But this seems to have given her the impetus to pursue a career in songwriting and performing. She gigged in clubs around Los Angeles while living in a Cadillac, and she was eventually signed by the new Asylum Records. Graham Nash (of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young) produced her first single, “Jesus Was a Cross Maker.” Her two albums, Judee Sill (1971) and Heart Food (1973), received some acclaim but failed to chart. Discouraged, and suffering back pain from a car accident and later a fall, she returned to hard drugs. She died of a cocaine and codeine overdose at age thirty-five.

Why do I rehearse Sill’s turbulent biography? Because songs don’t come out of a vacuum. The longing in “When the Bridegroom Comes”—those piano chords, that voice—is real. Her thirst, her questing, her waiting and hoping. Though she herself didn’t write the lyrics (David Omer Bearden, her romantic partner at the time, did, though she likely gave input), she sings them with fervency, makes them her prayer.

The song melds together the parable of the ten bridesmaids from Matthew 25 with the bridal theology of Revelation. In one, which has more of an individual focus, we are put in the place of the bride’s attendants and warned to be prepared for the imminent wedding celebration, lest we get locked out in the dark; in the other, Christ’s church as a collective is likened to the bride herself, eagerly anticipating the arrival of her groom and the sweet union that will follow.

The song’s primary referent is Revelation 22:17, from the final chapter of the Bible:

The Spirit and the bride say, “Come.”
And let everyone who hears say, “Come.”
And let everyone who is thirsty come.
Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift.

In this verse, the voice of the bride (the church) through whom the Spirit speaks calls out, “Come.” Because of the interchange of speakers and subjects in the broader passage, it’s unclear whether the addressee of this imperative is Christ or the masses. The church could be crying out for Jesus’s return, as they do in verse 20, or they could be inviting people far and wide to the gospel feast, bidding them come and eat. I think the latter, which would make it continuous with the third and fourth lines, but it could really go either way. Because as sure as there’s the final coming of Christ to the world, there’s also the coming of the world to Christ. He comes to us, and we come to him.

Sill’s whole song is full of biblical references—Jesus’s healing ministry, Jesus as the rejected cornerstone (Matt. 21:42), Jesus as the pearl of great price (Matt. 13:45–46), the Spirit breathing life into dry bones (Ezek. 37:1–14), Jesus’s upside-down kingdom in which the last are first and the first are last (Matt. 19:30). It celebrates divine mercy and grace and encourages us to respond in the affirmative to Christ’s wedding invitation, and to persevere in love while he tarries.

Advent, Day 10: Oil in My Lamp

LOOK: Oil Lamp by Andrew Wyeth

Wyeth, Andrew_Oil Lamp
Andrew Wyeth (American, 1917–2009), Oil Lamp, 1945. Tempera on hardboard panel, 34 × 42 in. (86.4 × 106.6 cm). Collection of Phyllis and Jamie Wyeth. Photo courtesy of the Farnsworth Art Museum, Rockland, Maine.

Andrew Wyeth’s realist paintings center narratives of rural life in Pennsylvania, where he lived for most of each year, and Maine, where he and his wife spent their summers. This one shows his friend Alvaro Olson sitting in a room of his (Alvaro’s) eighteenth-century farmhouse in Cushing, Maine. Weary and worn, he stares off to the side, his face cast in the dim glow of an oil lamp. Alvaro tended to the family farm and took care of his increasingly debilitated sister, Christina, who is the subject of Wyeth’s most famous painting, Christina’s World.

Wyeth is one of my favorite artists, and I’ve featured his work a few times on the blog: here, here, and here.

LISTEN: “Oil in My Lamp,” traditional gospel song | Arranged by Gene Parsons and Clarence White and performed by the Byrds on Ballad of Easy Rider (1969)

Give me oil in my lamp
Keep me burning, burning, burning
Give me oil in my lamp, I pray
Give me oil in my lamp
Keep me burning, burning, burning
Keep me burning till the break of day

Sing, oh sinner!* sing, oh sinner!
Sing, oh sinner, to the King!
Sing, oh sinner! sing, oh sinner!
Sing, oh sinner, to the King!

* The traditional lyrics of the chorus are “Sing hosanna.”

This gospel song is inspired by Jesus’s parable from Matthew 25:1–13, in which ten bridesmaids are waiting for the bridegroom to come to them so that the wedding-night procession can start. Having not prepared an adequate supply of oil, five of the women foolishly allow their lamps to burn out, while the other five, ready with oil refills, keep theirs lit. The parable is a warning to be prepared for the Bridegroom’s return, always kindling our faith and shining forth our good works. The song is thus a plea that God would help us persevere.

I was first introduced to “Oil in My Lamp” through the country-rock arrangement by the Byrds’ guitarist Clarence White and drummer Gene Parsons, who recorded it with their bandmates in 1969. (This version was covered nicely by Neal Casal in 1999, using more minimal instrumentation and a slower tempo for more contemplative vibes.)

The song’s origins are elusive, with most sources simply using the attribution “Traditional.” Fascinated as I am by sacred song histories, I got a bit carried away trying to track down more information. So feel free to stop reading here—or follow to the end if you want to trace the song’s evolution and follow links to different creative interpretations!

The earliest appearance of the lyrics, at least one version of them, that I could find is in the short story “Safe in the Arms of Jesus” by Arthur Huff Fauset, an African American writer, published in Opportunity: A Journal of Negro Life 7, no. 4 (April 1929), p. 126. At an Easter night service, the Reverend De Witt Coleman steps up to his Baptist pulpit and addresses the small male chorus seated at his side.

“Boys,” he screamed, “I want you to sing for me. Sing as you never sang before . . . that song of yours called, ‘Has My Gas Bill Been Paid,’ or something like that!”

The vast congregation roared with laughter at this facetious petition of their leader.

A group of five men arose and began to croon softly. The audience became suddenly still. The tenor gave the note, then the bass and other members of the chorus took up the tone. They launched into song:

Give me oil in my lamp,
Give me oil in my lamp,
Give me oil in my lamp, I pray;
Keep me singing in the camp,
Keep me singing in the camp,
Until the break of day.

When my cup runneth over,
When my cup runneth over,
When my cup runneth over with joy;
I find it easy to pray,
And to sing every day,
When my cup runneth over with joy.

Give me oil in my lamp,
Give me oil in my lamp,
Give me oil in my lamp, I pray;
Keep me singing in the camp,
Keep me singing in the camp,
Until the break of day.

Besides being an active figure in the Harlem Renaissance, Fauset was an anthropologist and a folklorist who conducted fieldwork among Black communities in the Deep South, the British West Indies, and Nova Scotia. He may have collected this song from any of the many people he interviewed, or churches he visited, in those places. My guess is that it originated in the United States as a camp meeting song in the early twentieth century, hence the line “Keep me singing in the camp” (though this lyric could have been a later adaptation to fit that context). “Camp meeting” is the name given to the outdoor evangelical religious services that spread across the American frontier in the early nineteenth century.

“The camp meeting tradition fostered a tradition of music and hymn singing with strong oral, improvisatory, and spontaneous elements,” reads a Wikipedia article. “Both tunes and words were created, changed, and adapted in true folk music fashion.” 

In the 1950s, “Oil in My Lamp” (alternatively titled “Give Me Oil in My Lamp” or “Sing Hosanna”) spread throughout the country through traveling song leaders, songbook publishers, and other networks. Boundless Praise, published in Lawrenceville, Tennessee, in 1944, is the earliest songbook appearance I can find (attribution: “Author unknown”), and the earliest recording I found is from The Four Girls gospel quartet, who sang it as part of a medley for an Easter 1954 broadcast (“Give me oil in my lamp / Keep me shining in the camp / Until the judgment day”).

Singspiration published the song text in 1951, citing A. Sevison as the author (probably because he added the verse “Make me a fisher of men, keep me seeking . . .” and possibly also the “Sing hosanna” refrain), and in 1963 they published an arrangement by “the Csehys” (Wilmos and Gladys Csehy?) and Norman Johnson.

After that, the song appeared in Girl Scouts / Girl Guides songbooks and, later, on major children’s music albums, like Wee Sing Bible Songs (1986), Bible Songs by Cedarmont Kids (1997), and Bob and Larry’s Sunday Morning Songs (2002) from the VeggieTales Sing-Alongs series. The children’s versions often include additional verses, such as “Give me joy in my heart, keep me singing . . . ,” “Give me peace in my heart, keep me resting . . . ,” “Give me love in my heart, keep me serving . . . ,” and so on.

One interesting thing I found is how popular—and widely recorded—the song was in Jamaica, starting in the sixties.

In 1964, five years before the Byrds release, Jamaican ska singer Eric “Monty” Morris recorded it with Byron Lee and the Dragonaires, and it was a huge hit. Other Jamaican artists, including Jackie Edwards (1964) and Desmond Dekker and The Specials (1993), followed, and the song appears on several reggae gospel compilations.

Jamaican singer-songwriter and percussionist Dick “Syncona” Smith, who became a linchpin of the Toronto music scene after migrating there in the 1960s, released a notable variation in 1974 that opens with this new verse:

When the burden of life makes me weary
And I feel that I can’t carry on
When my time’s running out and my nights get lonely
Lord, I need someone to hear my song

The extensive popularity of “Oil in My Lamp” among Caribbean artists makes me wonder if perhaps the song actually originated on Caribbean soil and was brought to the US by migrants.

If you have any additional information about the song’s history, or know of any recordings prior to 1954, please do share!

Advent, Day 17

“Then the kingdom of heaven will be like this. Ten bridesmaids took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. When the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them; but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. As the bridegroom was delayed, all of them became drowsy and slept. But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those bridesmaids got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise replied, ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us; you had better go to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ And while they went to buy it, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet; and the door was shut. Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ But he replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’ Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”

—Matthew 25:1–13

LOOK: Byzantine fresco of the Parable of the Ten Virgins

Parable of the Ten Virgins
Parable of the Ten Virgins, ca. 1600. Fresco, Chapel of the Virgin, Monastery of Saint John the Theologian, Chora, Patmos, Greece.

LISTEN: “ها هوذا الختن” (“Behold the Bridegroom”), a troparion (short hymn) in Arabic from the Antiochian Orthodox Church in Syria

من الليل تبتكر روحي إليك يا الله لإنّ أوامرك نورٌ على الأرض.

ها هوذا الختن يأتي في نصف الليل فطوبى للعبد الذي يجده مستيقظا، أما الذي يجده متغافلا فهو غير مستحق. فانظري يا نفسي ألا تستغرقي في النوم ويغلق عليك خارج الملكوت وتسلمي إلى الموت، بل كوني منتبهة صارخة : قدوس قدوس قدوس أنت يا الله، من أجل والدة الإله ارحمنا.

English translation:

My spirit seeks you early in the night watches, for your commandments are a light on the earth. Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

Behold, the Bridegroom is coming in the middle of the night, and blessed is the servant he shall find awake and watching; but unworthy is the one he shall find neglectful. Beware, therefore, O my soul. Be not overcome by sleep, lest you be given over to death and shut out from the kingdom. But return to soberness and cry aloud, “Holy, holy, holy are you, our God.” Through the Theotokos, have mercy on us.

In Orthodox churches the parable of the ten virgins is read, and “Behold the Bridegroom” sung, on Tuesday of Holy Week. In the West, however, the parable is associated more with Advent, since its focus is on Christ’s return.

(Related post: “Clever Maids” by Thomas J. O’Gorman)

“Clever Maids” by Thomas J. O’Gorman

Kordis, George_Wise Virgins

Face to face with our limits,
Blinking before the frightful
Stare of our frailty,
Promise rises
Like a posse of clever maids
Who do not fear the dark
Because their readiness
Lights the search.
Their oil
Becomes the measure of their love,
Their ability to wait—
An indication of their
Capacity to trust and take a chance.
Without the caution or predictability
Of knowing day or hour,
They fall back on that only
Of which they can be sure:
Love precedes them,
Before it
No door will ever close.

This poem by Thomas J. O’Gorman appears, untitled, in The Advent Sourcebook (Liturgy Training Publications, 1988) and is published here with O’Gorman’s permission. He told me he suggests the title “Clever Maids.”

The Wise Virgins icon by George Kordis (Greek, 1956–), pictured above, is sold, but the artist has seven signed, limited-edition giclée prints available; contact him through his website if interested.