Message of Music

Anyone who is a long time reader or who has perused my years of writing will know that music plays an enormous part of who I am and my faith development. Music has the ability to transcend the moment. It can connect me to traditions going back hundreds of years or to a person. Music transports me past my daily emotion and feelings to a place that I can't really describe.

Advent and music go hand in hand in my world. Therefore, the songs of the seasons hit me hard and usually very deeply. This week has been no different. I have been convicted by "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" (see Monday's blog). I have been struck by songs sitting at my desk. I was listening to God Coming Down (Christmas Cantata by Travis Cottrell) and it all became just too much. I love Christmas and the music of Christmas. But this season is hard. Everyone is too busy and rushed. The reality of missing someone and grieving for them is magnified. Our brokenness seems to be just a bit more real.

I made it through the actual work day without crying at my desk (my coworkers might not know what to do with that plus it isn't really all that professional). After work, I discussed hard things of the heart with my pastor and then went to the Wednesday night service. We sang again O Come, O Come Emmanuel... there were tears. Suddenly I was face to face to with an inner question: Why would Christ come in a scandalous way, to a broken world, in the form of a helpless infant?

Had he come any other way, he would be remembered in a history book as a king of Israel or even a bigger region of the middle east. Had he come any other way, his humanity would be questioned. Jesus had to come as a baby and then grow in "wisdom and stature" so he could understand who we really are as people, to see temptation up close, to overcome it, to give us an example... I digress.

After the service was over I asked David if we could sing "This is Christmas" together. David grinned and said, "I just had that music out this afternoon thinking about Karen. It is totally a God thing you want to sing it." I had to tell him the truth about this song: I had been listening to it at work, I too was missing Karen and it just seems wrong to be approaching Christmas without sharing the preparation for a cantata with her. And so we sang... loudly (and on my end not really well good thing David has perfect pitch and can carry anyone through a song). The song pressed on and approached the words, "This is ever-lasting peace. This is never-ending joy. This is love eternal and this is Christmas." My earlier questions, feelings and thoughts were briefly sat aside to see the beauty that Christmas brought to us ever-lasting peace, never-ending joy and love eternal.

I pray that music never stops being a source of cool water to my parched soul.