Author’s Note: This is the second in our four-week Advent series. The tradition of Advent is rarely mentioned in my faith tradition, but it is common in my family. Biblical scholarship disagrees with the timing of Christmas and Jesus’ birth. That said, we’ll still take a four-week journey together to examine the meaning of the First and Second Advent in our lives.
My Christmas memories are wrapped in music.
Growing up in the Yeagley house, there was one rigid rule. No Christmas music was played before December 1. There was no theology or proof texts behind this edict. It was grounded in my parent’s sanity. The four Yeagley boys would have played Christmas records 24-7-365. Truth be told, I still feel a twinge of guilt if I listen to a Christmas song in November.
One snowy Christmas Eve in Michigan, my wife and I sat around my folks’ living room — most likely listening to Handel’s Messiah. “Margaret* is coming over in a while,” my dad said. “She wants to sing a duet with me for our Christmas service tomorrow.”
Before the doorbell rang, my father let us in on a soon-to-be-discovered fact — Margaret couldn’t sing. My mom played the piano in our living room, my dad sang the melody, and Margaret — wow, she sang with gusto in four different keys!
Christmas Day dawned with a snowstorm that would have inspired a Hallmark movie. We watched the snow fall through the church’s large glass windows, knowing that Margaret’s long-awaited Christmas offering to her church was fast approaching. The moment arrived, and there was no Christmas miracle. Margaret still sang in four different keys. But my mom and dad allowed her to praise her Messiah. Her musical offering was beautiful.
No telling of Christmas music memories is complete without remembering when we sang Christmas carols on a cold Christmas Eve outside the National Cathedral in Washington, DC. The sights and sounds of the service were so awe-inspiring to me as a young boy that I still remember the rumble of the organ and the soaring sounds of the choir reverberating through the vaulted spaces of the Cathedral.
And so I love that Jesus’ humble entrance into our world was to lowly and often despised shepherds. These guys didn’t attend many performances by the Bethlehem Philharmonic or sing in the temple choir. So when they were given a personal command performance by Heaven’s best choir, it was life-changing.
“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying: ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men!’” Luke 2:13-14 NKJV Just imagine listening to Heaven’s angels announcing the Messiah with full-throated praise. This was no gentle rendition of “Silent Night.”
Pastor and author Paul Tripp says, “God is the ultimate musician. His music transforms your life. The notes of redemption rearrange your heart and restore your life. His songs of forgiveness, grace, reconciliation, truth, hope, sovereignty, and love give you back your humanity and restore your identity.”
After the angel choir concert and the face-to-face encounter with the infant Messiah, the shepherds had new identities. They were no longer lowly shepherds. They were ambassadors for their Messiah.
So this Christmas as you drive in your car or stand in church — sing the carols you hear with the gusto of Heaven’s choir. Keith and Kristyn Getty put it this way, “Don’t sing primarily because you love singing, or keep quiet because you do not. Sing because you love who made you, and formed you, and enables you to sing.”
So this Christmas — SING! Whether you sing like Margaret or a soloist in a cathedral choir — SING! On a Tuesday in April or a Thursday in August — SING!
Your Messiah has given you a new identity. You are a child of God. You have been redeemed. Forgiven. Reconciled to God. Offered hope. That is reason enough to SING!
*Margaret is not her real name.