The Music of Christmas, Prelude

One of the hazards of church music is what we call Christmas-Music-Inoculitus. It is a common problem for those who sing in church choirs, direct music, lead worship, or play an instrument in church. It starts in August as choir directors break out anthems from Christmases past. At first, a subtle warmth washes over victims as the music of Christmas stirs hearts weary after a long hot summer.

By September, the songs have invaded minds. Soon, people hum Away in a Manger as they wander through stores. This, of course, elicits stares from fellow shoppers. In October, around the time retailers hang up holiday decorations, the symptoms manifest in full force and wear down those infected. Around early November, the choir sounds good, but the pleasant feelings inspired by well-loved Christmas melodies are replaced by numbness. Once December rolls around, little hope remains for those infected.

Choirs are not alone in the suffering. Unsuspecting victims can be infected as carols stream over mall speakers, TV ads, and radios. And the great tragedy of the disease is an inability to comprehend the lyrics of the so-familiar songs. While melodies infect the brain, lyrics fall on deaf ears. The message of Christmas becomes little more than an orchestral score playing in the background of a black-and-white film classic. By the close of the Advent season, all anybody wants for Christmas is a silent night.

Music has been part of the Christmas story since Mary first raised her voice in the Magnificat (see Luke 1:46-56). On the night of Jesus’ birth, the angels burst out in song (Luke 2:13-14). Even those wise guys from the east bowed down and worshipped at the feet of Jesus (Matthew 2:11). When describing the birth of Jesus, the Apostle John wrote, “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1:14). Jesus is the Word. He is the Lyric of Life. It is fitting that music would surround the events of His arrival.

Humans sometimes fail with words. We use them to praise God in one breath and curse each other in the next (James 3:10). But the music narrating the miracle of Christmas is more than beautiful melodies. God Himself provided the lyrics to a melody that long haunted the heart of humanity. Like having a song on the tip of your tongue that eludes definition, humanity wandered the earth seeking truth only heard in the hearts of believers. On the night of Jesus’ birth, music poured from heaven and filled the earth.

A long and lonely silence has ended. Christ is the Word to our melody.

The Music of Christmas is a collection of 25 daily devotions designed to help readers cut through the noise of a busy, distracting, and often loud holiday season. It is our prayer that God will use these familiar passages as a reminder of His incredible love. We also pray that your love for Christ and His mission will be rekindled this Advent season. Each day is roughly a five-minute read, including scripture references, brief commentary, and prayer. Devotions are arranged in chronological order to better capture the overarching narrative of Christ’s birth and the Gospel. Entries are not dated, so feel free to use this study however and whenever fits you. Read it alone, with a spouse, in a small group, or with your family around the dinner table. Wherever you happen to be as you open these pages, try to listen beyond the chaos. Tune out those tired jingles and unending marketing campaigns. Ringing down from heaven, even now, is a sweet song that the angels began: “Glory to God in the Highest and on earth peace to those on whom His favor rests.” That is a message no heart grows tired of hearing.

The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.

The Music of Christmas, Day 1

Ancient Refrain

 

Read John 1:1-14

In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. 

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

 

 

Of the four Gospels, only two tell the familiar stories celebrated at Christmastime. The story of the shepherds and angels, Mary and Joseph, wise men and evil kings … all are recorded in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. Mark says nothing about the birth of Jesus. John, on the other hand, skips the crowded inn and smelly manger. His version of Jesus’ life and ministry came long after the accounts by Matthew and Luke were well known. So rather than repeating details associated with the blessed birth, John takes his reader back even farther — a prequel. Movie goers line up to see a-story-before-the-story on the big screen and I have a similar feeling of anticipation whenever I read the beginning of John’s Gospel. 

 

His account begins with time itself. The opening lines may only be a subtle reference to the Creation but are clear about who Jesus is — the catalyst for God’s redemption of all creation. 

 

The creation account in Genesis was written in the form of a poem. It was likely set to music to help people remember and repeat its words. This ancient song of origin, known so well by John’s audience was suddenly made new. The big reveal is that God, Creator of everything and everyone, stepped into His creation in order to save it. The Word who spoke all things into being had been made flesh. God waded into the darkness as the Light of the World.

 

I remember hearing my great-grandfather talk about life before electricity. Kerosene lanterns and candles were essential. People woke long before dawn to make use of every bit of daylight, and everything ended before sunset so people could get safely home.

We live in a different world today. We take for granted the availability of electricity and the light it produces. We no longer fear the dark because we seldom face it. Flip a switch and darkness flees. Flood the streets with lights and stay out late. Why value the light of day when we simply make our own? That is until a storm comes and the power goes out. Then we are confronted with the reality of darkness and our powerlessness against it. Suddenly, we remember that we are afraid of the dark and those who lurk in it.

After creating the heavens and the earth, God’s first order of business was turning on the lights.  He dispelled darkness by creating light even before shaping the sun. Consider God’s first recorded words: “Let there be light” (Genesis 1:3). John picks up the theme and runs with it. After referring to Jesus as the “Word” of God, he explains that within this Word was the “Light” of all humankind. The Word and the Light are one in the personage of Jesus Christ.

 
The world without Jesus is a dark place. He came into the darkness of our world, yes, but more importantly, into the darkness of our hearts. No electric light can illuminate the dark heart of humanity, and so we follow the example of Adam. We try to hide from God to avoid exposure to His Light. We don’t want our darkness revealed to others or ourselves, and especially not to God. But Jesus came to meet us in our darkness and offer His light.

After the fall of man, creation once again plunged into darkness. This condition, while spiritual in nature, appeared to overcome God’s light. John offered a new glimpse into the Creation account. God has once again sent light into the world. This Light cannot be overcome by the darkness of sin. This Light is life for everyone lost in darkness. 

 

The song isn’t new, yet time and time again this ancient refrain promises a new beginning. Jesus has come to make all things new (Revelation 21:5). Perhaps you would like to start over. The same Word that spoke our world into existence stands ready to do a new work in you.

 

 

Light of the World,

 

God who spoke all things into being, speak new life into me.

Penetrate the darkness of my heart with the Light of Your love.

As believers turn their attention to the celebration of Your birth, 

be born again in me, in my family, in Your church, and in Your creation.

Amen.

The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.

The Music of Christmas, Day 2

 Echoing Down the Generations

 

Read: Matthew 1:1-17 & Luke 3:23-38

… the son of Enos, the son of Seth, the son of Adam, the son of God.

 

 

As we read yesterday, John didn’t include details of Jesus’ birth. Instead, he traced the story of Jesus back to the very beginning of time itself. Matthew and Luke then provide the link between Creation and Jesus by following the genealogical trail down to Bethlehem. Though modern Bible readers are often tempted to skip over genealogies and long lists of hard-to-pronounce names, these passages are, nonetheless, an important part of the biblical record. Genealogy allows those of us on this side of the resurrection to better grasp the chronology of God’s big story. 

 

These accounts also highlight important yet easy to miss relationships. For example, it is the genealogy at the conclusion of Ruth’s story where readers discover that this Moabite heroine is the great-grandmother of the revered King David. Genealogies help us place people in context of the overarching story the Bible tells.

 

While today’s assigned passages may not be thrilling, they are rich with information about who Jesus is, which is difficult to cover from every angle in a short devotional. Both Matthew and Luke trace His lineage back to King David. This is an important detail because of God’s repeated promise that Messiah would come from the line of David. Also, notice that these genealogies do not match. Bible students have argued and theorized over this for centuries. Again, our goal here, today, is not exploring all possible explanations. Still, I encourage you to grab a commentary or study Bible and dig into these passages for yourself.

 

For now, let’s focus on one simple and critical insight these verses produce. While it’s true that both lists contain a veritable ‘who’s who’ of Bible heroes -– David, Abraham, Isaac, Adam -– for the most part, we read the names of unknown and forgotten people. Heli, Neri, Mela, and his father Menna. And don’t forget the women listed. Matthew certainly didn’t. He mentions five in his account. Admittedly, by modern standards, we would not consider this a fair and thorough representation. However, Matthew’s inclusion of women, even a few, was unusual and noteworthy for his time. 

 

Take a moment to think about the unknown and unnamed. Men and women who lived, worked, parented, suffered, celebrated, fought, and died. People who prayed for God to deliver them yet died never knowing how their families would be eternally woven into the fabric of Messiah’s story. The promised Messiah they would never see. The answer to oft-breathed prayers was closer than ever. Perhaps some died having lost hope while others maintained an unwavering faith. These folks are not remembered for heroic acts of faith, but they forever stand on the pages of our salvation story. I want that to be true of my family. For all the ways someone gains notoriety these days, none compares with the eternal recognition and benefit of being in the family of Christ. There were famous and powerful people alive when Menna and his wife gave birth to their son Mela, but their names are since lost. Their pursuit of power and fame may have achieved short-term notoriety, but it did not yield eternity. Only the name of Jesus does that.

 

One final observation: Jesus’ family tree contains what many would consider a list of the Bible’s “Least Likely to Succeed.” People like Tamar who tricked her father-in-law into fathering her child. Perez, the child of that affair. Rahab, a foreign-born prostitute. Ruth, another foreigner and young, penniless widow. Bathsheba, David’s mistress, and Manasseh, who is called the wickedest king to ever sit on the throne in Jerusalem. Even the so-called “heroes” in Jesus’ lineage were far from perfect. Noah had an unforgettable drunk-and-naked moment. David was a serial womanizer. And Abraham tried to take matters into his own hands when God seemed slow in delivering His promise. These well-known heroes aren’t recognized in this list for their good works. It is only because of their relation to Jesus.

 

The next time you reflect on your family tree, consider the pain, failures, hopes, and dreams of those who came before you. Failure and brokenness are in our DNA. God could have sent Jesus down on a cloud, untouched and unaffected by the heritage of sin. Instead, He came into the family of humankind, familiar with the unnoticed, forgotten, broken, defeated, and damaged. He chose this heritage and offers us a better one. 

 

 

Son of Man,

 

Our families are broken and fragmented. We are powerless to escape the cycle of sin. 

But You, Lord Jesus, have entered into humanity — into our families — to save us from sin and make us Yours. Thank You for the sacrifice of the manger and cross.

Amen.

The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.

The Music of Christmas, Day 3

 Song of Silence

 

Read Luke 1:5-25

“I stand in the presence of God, and I was sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news. And behold, you will be silent ...” – The Angel Gabriel

 

 

As Luke tells the overarching story of God’s salvation and incarnation, he does so through accounts of ordinary people … a young couple, just starting out, full of hope and promise … an old couple nearing the end of their lives, both filled with disappointment. 

Elizabeth and Zechariah, advanced in age, are reminiscent of the Old Testament story of Abraham and Sarah. Zechariah and Elizabeth were unable to bear children, their home still empty after many, many years. So, it’s no wonder that Zechariah was shocked when an angel appeared in the temple to give him news of Elizabeth’s pregnancy … a son they must name John. (Luke 1:11-13) The angel described John’s role as the one who would prepare the way for the Messiah. Surprise at the angel’s visit was eclipsed by news of the baby.  

Looking for proof, Zechariah asks, “How can I be sure of this?” The answer? What you might expect from a divine messenger of the all-powerful, one true God. “I am Gabriel," he said. “and now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their proper time.” (Luke 1:18-20)

For nine months, Zechariah remained as mute as the child growing in Elizabeth's womb. Only when the cries of his newborn son pierced the quiet was Zechariah’s tongue finally loosed. Those months of silence, a blatant reminder of his unbelief, became evidence of God’s movement.

 
As He never wastes a hurt, God also never wastes the silence. Remember Israel’s 400 years of slavery in Egypt? God broke the silence and delivered His people from bondage through His servant Moses. Consider the years between Malachi, the last book of the Old Testament, and Matthew, the first book of the New Testament — four centuries of divine silence. That intertestamental period did not lack purpose or power. As Zechariah’s silence ended, so too was God’s long silence finally over. The WORD was being made flesh.

In the noise and business of Christmas, a "Silent Night" is hard to find. We often celebrate by making as much noise as possible. The music of the holidays plays on repeat. On commercials, in stores, and through car radios, we’re inoculated to the very message the songs contain. The great challenge of the information age is to avoid being overwhelmed with excess information. It is during the process of oversaturation that we lose awareness — of our surroundings, our joy, and even the meaning of Christmas.

In an instant, we can access the latest news from around the globe yet be unaware of the here and now. We miss what's going on in the life of our children or lose track of meaningful moments with a spouse. Noise and information prevent us from recognizing emptiness and pain in our hearts. Too often we use noise to medicate pain, so avoiding silence and refusing to be still can keep us from facing our own brokenness.

 
But silence is a mighty tool in gaining someone’s attention. Teachers wield it. Maybe your mother, like mine, knew exactly how to employ silence for maximum benefit. How do we miss that God, the Creator, has worked through silence to capture the attention of His people? Because He uses it still today. 

 

Are you willing to remain still long enough to hear the Word of God this Advent season? Have you prayed for answers, for God to show up in your life? Perhaps He already has, and you’ve been too distracted to notice. Maybe you’re waiting for something loud and flashy; meanwhile, God is waiting in the stillness. In what ways is your life cluttered with noise and busy-ness?

 
It seems we've forgotten the ancient discipline of silence and solitude. Pray that the LORD will restore the habit of stillness and silent reflection in your life. And like Zechariah, may your silence lead you to a greater faith that God is always at work … even in the silence.

 

“Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46:10, NIV84)

 

God of the Silence,

 

I join the chorus of millions who sing Your praise aloud, 

but You, O Lord, are also worthy of my reverent silence.  

You speak and oceans are formed, but Your silence is no less powerful.  

Free me from my addiction to noise. Still my heart in the knowledge that You alone are God and tune my ears to the song of Your silence.  

Amen.

The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.

The Music of Christmas, Day 4

 Anthem of Hope 

Read Luke 1:26-38

“May it be to me as you have said.” – Mary

 

 

Hope is a powerful thing. It keeps us going when we might otherwise give up. It inspires and challenges us to persevere in the face of great difficulties. It motivates us to strive for something better. And the absence of hope is despair, feeling that all hope is lost. 

 

When the angel Gabriel approached Mary, she was “greatly troubled.” (Luke 1:29) To encourage her, Gabriel said, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom, there will be no end." (Luke 1:30-33) 

 

Mary was going to have a baby. That’s good news! A baby who would be the Son of God, the Messiah—even better news! He would establish God’s never-ending kingdom. The best news of all! 

 

God had been silent for many years. Since Malachi laid down his pen four hundred years earlier, God’s people had experienced a complete drought of His word. The people of Israel were told that God would “rejoice over [them] with singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17) But instead, God remained completely silent for centuries … four centuries, in fact. Generations had been born and died without ever hearing God’s voice. It seemed the music had ended. Hope faded, and the silence became deafening.

But Gabriel came to Mary announcing that change was coming. The orchestra sat ready. An angel choir was warming up. God prepared to take center stage. Yet fear descended upon her rather than excitement or anticipation. 

 

Now, before we’re too hard on Mary, consider her perspective as a teenager living with her parents, engaged to be married, a good girl. She did her parents’ bidding and what was right. Never had she ignored her family's expectations or the tenets of her faith, especially when it came to her purity. She shouldn’t, no couldn’t, be pregnant. 

 

“How can this be?” she asked. The Bible doesn’t share Mary's innermost thoughts at that critical moment, but it doesn’t take much effort to imagine the many fears filling her mind. Shame and humiliation, as well as the mocking, judgment, and rejection that awaited her. The refusal of her family to believe her and perhaps the punishment that could result from Gabriel's “good” news.

 

Mary couldn’t hear the Good News Gabriel sang over the cacophony created by her own fear. That’s what fear does. It fills our heads and hearts with so much noise that it’s hard to hear anything else. Gabriel’s news did not, at first, bring Mary hope. Rather, it made her fearful. If Gabriel had promised the Messiah stepping down from the clouds in glory and might, her reaction surely would have been different. If only Gabriel had reported the name of some other more qualified, courageous, and happily married woman to bear the Son of God. Perhaps then his message might have been welcome news.

 

Isn’t that true for many of us? Consumed with our own fear and the difficulties of our circumstances, the song of hope sounds more like an ominous warning, the prelude to impending doom. We cannot understand the lyrics because we can’t get past the verse about surrender … giving something up, changing our ways, or laying it all down in order to give birth to hope. 

 

How is fear keeping you from hearing God’s anthem of hope this Advent season? How has the thought of change or personal sacrifice kept you from joining the song?

 

 

Son of the Most High,

I confess that, like Mary, I have let fear keep me from hearing, let alone singing, 

Your song of hope. Thank You for piercing the deafening silence of my sin. 

Give me the faith to let Your hope be born in me. I surrender to Your will. 

Let me join the chorus of people who sing Your praises. 
Amen.

The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.

The Music of Christmas, Day 5

 The Quiet Strains

Read Matthew 1:18-25

When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: 

he took his wife, but knew her not until she had given birth to a son. 

And he called his name Jesus.

“The strong, silent type” -– a stereotype used to describe individuals who don’t say much but whose actions demonstrate an unexpected strength. While these men and women don’t seek the spotlight, their actions speak louder than their words. Anyone observant enough to notice usually stands in awe of what they see. I think Joseph fits that description. He may have had one of the most critical, yet overlooked, jobs in God’s redemptive story. God used Joseph’s obedience and humility to ensure safe entry into the world for His one and only Son. 

 

The news of Mary’s pregnancy must have shocked and hurt Joseph more than anyone. While others might have assumed the couple caved to temptation before their wedding night, Joseph knew better. From his perspective, Mary had been unfaithful. The remedy for such a betrayal was public humiliation and possibly death. It was within Joseph’s power to end Mary’s life, and thereby, to end the life of the unborn child. But even before God’s messenger arrived to steer Joseph in a different direction, Joseph had decided against exercising the law against her. Instead, he planned to do things quietly, spare Mary’s life and probably send her to another town until the little one arrived. That decision, as merciful as it was, did not factor into God’s plan for Jesus. And so, God sent an angel and Joseph willingly accepted responsibility for Mary and the baby he did not father.

 

His quiet strength paved the way for the Holy birth as it also made a way for Jesus’ survival into adulthood. Joseph, along with all those living under Roman rule, had been required to return to his ancestral home and be counted for the census. While details of that journey are unknown, it’s easy to imagine the strain Joseph endured — submitting to Roman authorities, traveling with and protecting his pregnant wife, finding a safe place for the birth, and somehow providing everything needed for his new family to live from day to day. 

 

This God-fearing man received not one but three angelic visits. The second directed Joseph to flee with his young family to Egypt. They lived as refugees for months. And it was only after the third that Joseph heard the “all clear” and took his family back to Galilee. There he resumed his work as a carpenter. By the time we read of him again, Jesus' boyhood training in carpentry had no doubt begun.   

 

The biblical record is clear that Joseph was not Jesus’ biological father. Still, that didn’t keep humble, unassuming Joseph from being faithful to quietly fulfill a fatherly role in the boy’s life.

 

I will never forget the moment it dawned on me that Joseph was a stepfather. Growing up the son of a single mom, I envied friends who lived with both biological parents. What I wanted, more than anything, was to be like them. To be a kid who lived in a home with Mom and Dad. I’m not sure when, or if, I ever stopped longing for it. But years later, my mother remarried and I experienced something quite unexpected. God used a man who was not my Dad to demonstrate the real love of a father. He became more than Mom’s husband or my stepfather. He was instead a father who stepped in. He was willing to accept responsibility for children not his own.

 

The Bible does not reveal what became of Joseph. Like so many other faithful servants, he did what God called him to do and then faded from the scene. The world needs more men like Joseph and my stepfather. Men willing to follow God’s direction even when that leads to responsibility for someone else’s kids. Men and women willing to set aside their rights, or well-laid plans, or a promising future for the cause of the Gospel.

 

Are you currently wrestling under the quiet strain of bearing another’s burden? It can be difficult, and thankless, but God sees you. He knows of your faithfulness and He will redeem your efforts even as He accomplishes a greater purpose.

 

 

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for men and women of quiet faith 

who obediently step in to serve Your purposes. 

Thank You for people who take up the cause of the orphaned and neglected, 

offering a picture of Your unconditional love. Give me the faith of Joseph 

that I might lay aside my selfish will and plans in order to serve Jesus.
Amen.

The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.

The Music of Christmas, Day 6

 Metronome

Read Luke 1:5-7, 26-34
“For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end — it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay.” – the prophet Habakkuk

Have you ever found yourself anxiously waiting for an event or arrival? If what you anticipated was a welcomed occasion, it probably felt like time slowed or came to a complete stop. I remember when we were expecting our first child. Nine months had never felt so long. But even as we anxiously awaited our son, we understood the importance of waiting for all nine months. As much as we wanted to hold that little guy, we didn’t want him to arrive earlier than was safe. We waited with eager anticipation and hope.

 
Pregnancy is a good picture of hope … knowing that the time has not yet come but expecting that it will. The Apostle Paul described Jesus’ arrival the same way. He said, “When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman …” (Galatians 4:4). I don’t think Mary believed “the fullness of time” had come when the angel Gabriel announced her unexpected pregnancy. I’m guessing she viewed the entire circumstance as ill-timed and happening to the wrong girl. “It’s too early,” she probably thought. “I am not yet married, and still a virgin.” As young women sometimes do, Mary likely imagined, dreamed, and hoped for the day she would become a mother. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a baby. She simply didn’t want a baby so soon.

Meanwhile, in another town, Mary’s cousin Elizabeth was having exactly the opposite experience. She and her husband Zechariah tried for years to conceive. They prayed and waited, hoped and pined. But as days turned into years and years into decades, they gave up. Hope faded and finally died. Then an angel appeared to Zechariah and told him to break out the bassinette. A baby was coming — their long-awaited child. Elizabeth and Zechariah would become parents at last. “But we’re too old!” Zechariah protested, undoubtedly thinking God’s timing was off. 

From an earthly perspective, one baby came too soon and the other too late. A teenage pregnancy and a geriatric gestation. Hope seemed premature in one narrative and tragically delayed in the other. Though a child was the fulfillment of each family’s greatest hope, the timing was not what either imagined. Yet, according to God’s divine calendar, the time had come.

We live in a world of instant gratification and technological advancement. We can jump online at any hour, buy an item from virtually anywhere, and then have it delivered within hours or days. In fact, we’ve figured out voice-activated technology and we speak our will into existence. We are being conditioned to be increasingly impatient with anything and anyone who does not operate according to our schedule, including God.

Like Zechariah and Elizabeth, have you given up hope, believing time has run out? Perhaps hope has faded into despair. Do you trust God’s timing? “If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay.” (Habakkuk 2:3) 

 

Or maybe, like Mary, you have been confronted with the reality of a hope that seems premature. I once heard an old preacher say, “God is seldom early, but he is never late.” I understand what he meant, but the truth of the matter is that God is never early or late. His timing is right. Always. He who is outside of time and space –- who set our calendar and time itself into motion –- appoints the moment for the fulfillment of every promise.

 

 

God Who is Outside of Time,

Like Mary and Elizabeth, I am filled with expectations and assumptions about Your timing. Help me recognize Your sovereignty over time and calendars. Help me to let go of expectations even as I hold onto Your promises. May all my hope be in You and may I live with the confidence that You make all things beautiful in Your time.
Amen.

The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.

The Music of Christmas, Day 7

 Duet

Read Luke 1:29-45
“And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment 

of what was spoken to her from the Lord.” – Elizabeth 

After Mary’s encounter with Gabriel, she left Bethlehem to visit her cousin, Elizabeth. While we do not know how Mary’s parents took the news of her “condition,” we know Joseph struggled to believe her. Who can blame him? Eventually Joseph became convinced by an angel of the Lord to believe Mary and go ahead with the betrothal. (Matthew 1:20) However, we do not know when this happened or how long Mary endured the fear of public exposure and humiliation. Her trip to visit Elizabeth may have been timed to spare her the disgrace of open ridicule by the community.

 
Have you ever experienced the complete isolation of disbelief? Imagine you are accused of something you didn’t do and suddenly found yourself the victim of a terrible rumor. No matter what was said and regardless of any proof offered, no one believed you. Not a single person, including those closest to you. That stings. It is devastating and lonely. That must have been how Mary felt. Who would believe such an outrageous story? Even those who knew her well — who knew her as a good and godly girl — would have a tough time believing.

Now, imagine one person saying, “I believe you.” Like a spring in the desert. You are not alone. When Mary arrived in the hill country of Judea, she had no way of knowing how her cousin, Elizabeth, and her husband, Zechariah, would receive her. It was a risky move. Zechariah was a priest. Religious people can sometimes be the worst when it comes to guilt and shame. Can you visualize Mary holding her breath as she approached the house? Then imagine the total relief and joy that came over her when Elizabeth greeted her with these words: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” (Luke 1:42-43) “Elizabeth believes me!” she must have thought. “Without explanation or argument, she believes me.” 

 

The reaction of her parents is not recorded, and the timing of Joseph’s angelic visit is not specified. And though we don’t know if Elizabeth was the first person to believe Mary, it is plausible. If so, it is interesting that two women were the first to accept the news of the Incarnation. The same is true of the Resurrection. Women were the first to believe.

The song of hope often begins as a solo, but it always ends in a chorus. Hope only requires one voice to start singing, but as that voice penetrates the silence of fear and hopelessness, another voice will join the song. The confidence of both singers increases as they harmonize the lyrics of hope, and before you know it, other voices are joining in until there is a mighty chorus.

Perhaps you're singing the song of hope as a solo right now. Maybe, like Mary, you are surrounded by people who doubt, maybe even despise, you and your song of hope. Perhaps you’ve been tempted to stop singing. Maybe you’ve thought of retreating into the silence of disbelief and despair. Do not give up! Keep singing! If you are singing God’s song of hope, it’s only a matter of time until your Elizabeth will hear you and turn the solo into a duet. 

 

Or perhaps you’ve been standing quietly by listening to someone else singing a solo of hope. Pray for God to reveal His truth and hope to you and be prepared to join that soloist to magnify God’s song of hope. You may be that person’s Elizabeth. The power of hope is multiplied by the addition of each voice who joins the chorus.

 

 

Holy Spirit,

Tune my heart to Your song of hope that it may resonate with all those who have already joined the chorus of the faithful. I pray for the strength and determination to keep singing, even when I am tempted to believe that I am singing alone. Give me the faith to sing Your song of hope until all the world resounds with the sound of Your praise.
Amen.

The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.

The Music of Christmas, Day 8

 Magnificat

Read Luke 1:46-56
“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 

for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.” – Mary

Our family loves musicals. From Broadway to community theatre, and from Hollywood to our local high school, we relish the opportunity to step into a world where people erupt into song. Where life has a perpetual underscore and every problem is resolved before the final curtain. Of course, musicals aren’t real life. That’s part of their allure. Yet they seem to express emotion and feelings in ways that words alone can’t. Corporate singing pulls perfect strangers together and for that brief time before the double bar line, everyone is breathing in time, uttering the same words, and listening carefully to the other singers. This is why we sing in church and why the Bible contains one of the world’s oldest songbooks (Psalms). God exceeds human vocabulary, so His people resort to lyrics and notes to better describe Him, worship Him, and express their collective love.

 

So it’s no surprise that Mary, a young Jewish girl overwhelmed by God, burst into song, the first of the New Testament. After being welcomed by Elizabeth, Mary paraphrased the familiar words of Hannah’s Prayer from 1 Samuel 2:1-10. Take time to read Hannah’s story (1 Samuel 1-2). You will quickly see why she was on Mary’s mind at that moment of revelation. Both women faced public embarrassment … Mary because she was unmarried and with child, and Hannah because she was married but barren. Both had been humbled by circumstances. Both experienced a miraculous conception. Both brought sons into the world who would later be surrendered to God. While their songs were unique, Hannah and Mary shared the melody of desperation.

 

Mary’s song is known as the Magnificat. The title comes from the first line: “My soul magnifies the Lord.” To magnify something is to make it larger, but God is already infinitely larger than we can imagine. How can a young girl possibly magnify God? In Mary’s case, the infinite God had taken up residence inside her womb. The God of the universe didn’t just humble Himself by taking on flesh (see Philippians 2:5), He humbled Himself to the point of placing Himself in utero … God as an embryo, too small to be seen, vulnerable, hidden, and protected by the flesh of a scared teenage girl. 

 

Any person with self-assumed importance could not have responded as Mary did. A heart occupied with pride has no room for the majesty of Christ. Jesus comes to the poor in spirit, the mourning, the meek and hungry. God comes to people like Hannah and Mary … people desperate for Him. Mary’s willingness to magnify her Lord is a testimony to the power of a life fully surrendered. She is a remarkable example of humility. The one who would deliver the Son of God wasn’t a woman of high status or wide renown. She was simply willing to surrender —everything — to live in obedience to God. 

 

Mary is evidence that “God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things …” (1 Corinthians 1:27-28) God’s choice and Mary’s surrender. Mary was willing to be used by God to accomplish His work. She surrendered and literally became the first person to welcome Jesus into her life and her very body. She was “blessed” because her humility made room for God to take up residence within her. Though poor, she carried the Kingdom of God inside. Though mourning her predicament, the God of all Comfort was hers. Though lowly and possibly hungry at times, through her came the Bread of Life. Though meek, her name became known throughout the earth.  

 

The first song of Christmas declared God’s commitment to the oppressed and rejected. And still today He comes to the lonely and neglected. Jesus still seeks humble hearts. He is still willing to inhabit the weak, despised, rejected, mocked, or scorned. Are you willing to humble yourself to make room for Jesus? For as we decrease, He increases and is magnified through our lives. 

 

 

God,

My soul magnifies You, Lord, my spirit rejoices in You, my Savior.

You have looked on my humble state, and I am blessed by Your presence.

You, who are mighty, have done great things for me, and not only me, but Your mercy resounds from generation to generation. Your strong arm saves the weak and scatters the proud. You have humbled kings and exalted the humble. May I become less so that You are magnified in me.

Amen.

The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.

The Music of Christmas, Day 9

 Benedictus

Read Luke 1:57-80
“Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel...” – Zechariah 

 

Remember the story of Zechariah and his involuntary song of silence? What would you say after nine months of silence? In Zechariah’s case, he didn’t speak but instead broke into song … a spontaneous song of praise in response to an angelic encounter and the miraculous birth of his son. Zechariah’s voice rang out weeks before Mary gave birth to Jesus yet the lyrics he sang were, curiously, in the past tense. “He has visited and redeemed his people” (Luke 1:68) and “He has raised up a horn of salvation for us,” he sang (v.69).

 

Zechariah, like the rest of his Jewish brothers and sisters, knew of the promises made to God’s chosen people, going back to Abraham. Promises of deliverance and redemption. Zechariah also knew those promises had not been fulfilled when he went into the temple a few months earlier. After four hundred years of silence, many Hebrews had given up on God’s deliverance. Even Zechariah expressed doubt when confronted with the news that God would use him and his wife in His plan to fulfill those promises. It was this doubt that sealed Zechariah’s lips. With the silence broken, he not only declared belief that God’s word would be fulfilled, he declared it had been. Jesus, the promised Savior of the world had not yet been born and Zechariah already counted God’s promises fulfilled. It was accomplished. Finished.

 

Zechariah’s song is called Benedictus or "blessed," a Latin word translated "good speaking." A song of encouragement to a discouraged world. A song of light piercing the darkness of doubt and fear. A good word silencing a chorus of despair. Zechariah wasn’t practicing blind optimism. He understood the work still ahead. He knew his son John would have a critical purpose in the coming years. Zechariah’s confidence in God was firm to the point of speaking in past tense. 

 

Our present day is still flooded by the noise of doubt. Like Zechariah, many are silenced by an avalanche of “bad speaking,” words of despair and disbelief. The “good” words Zechariah lifted in song was the “good news” of the Gospel. God had come to save His people. God cut through the clamor of sin and death with His “good” Word. The Word that become flesh -- Jesus. 

 

When the day we call “Good Friday” arrived, Jesus called out, “It is finished.” Salvation was “finished” well before Christ uttered those words from the cross. Zechariah understood that even before that day arrived. How? Confidence and trust in a God who delivers on every promise. 

 

 

Good Father,

 

Your promises are always true. You will do what You have said You will do.

Forgive my doubt and fear. Give me faith to believe what I cannot see,

and trust enough to say, “It is finished,” even before it has begun.

Amen.

The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.

The Music of Christmas, Day 10

 Imperial Dissonance

Read Luke 2:1-7

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given;

and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” 

– the prophet Isaiah

 

Every four years people living in the U.S. go through the pains of a presidential election. I don’t use the word "pains" to suggest that democracy and the right to vote isn't worth it, but to instead draw a comparison to childbirth. The process of delivering a democratically elected leader is preceded by a long and difficult labor filled with debates, campaigning, touring, speeches, interviews, and more. And after the clamor and noise of a presidential election, many in our nation turn attention to a very different labor and delivery. Not a figurative one, either. The birth of this child took place in a stable tucked inside a tiny town rather than in the hallowed halls of democracy.

 

Augustus Caesar issued a proclamation about taxes shortly before the child’s birth, exerting his control over the conquered people of Israel. Joseph and Mary, obligated to travel from Galilee to Bethlehem, surely felt the political oppression many Jews had come to accept. Revolutionaries attempted to overthrow the Roman government, but most people simply tried to live life, provide for families, survive, and go unnoticed by the Romans. And so, Joseph obeyed the Roman decree, taking his pregnant wife on the fateful trip to Bethlehem. With a journey so often rehearsed and romanticized, it’s easy to overlook one key fact: Jesus’ birth came, and the Christian faith with Him, at the height of a political oppression.

 

Joseph’s willing obedience to abide by Caesar’s decree does not seem like a great beginning for a Messiah expected to deliver people from bondage. Joseph submitted, and that response foreshadowed an exchange between Jesus and the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, thirty-three years later. “You would have no power over me at all unless it were given to you from above.” (John 19:11) The oppressive climate surrounding Jesus’ birth and death were the work of a godless empire. Yet, according to Jesus, a much higher power was at work.

 

Jesus did not model a weak pacifism, but rather a deep and abiding faith in God. For His Father not only held the world in His hands, but also worked His will despite, and sometimes through, the evil deeds of pagan kings. To clarify, the Messiah’s birth in Bethlehem was not the result of Caesar Augustus’ decree. It was not a cause-and-effect relationship. It was, instead, the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy: “But you, O Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.” (Matthew 2:6 quoting Micah 5:2) And neither was Jesus’ crucifixion evidence of Pilate’s authority, but rather, God’s sovereignty.  

 

That’s why, just a few decades after the Resurrection, the Apostle Paul encouraged Christians still living under the oppressive hand of the Roman empire to be subject to the governing authorities. “For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore, whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed.” (Romans 13:1-2) Seem like good advice? Maybe, if those in authority are just. But what about rulers bent on evil? Paul’s words still stand, whether our leaders are just and good or evil and unmerciful. 

 

Caesar and Pilate are not remembered as good and just. In fact, the Roman emperor ruling when Paul wrote those words was very likely the same man who ordered Paul beheaded and oversaw the execution of hundreds of Christ followers. Yet the blood of martyrs has watered the seeds of the Church. Augustus is dead. Pilate is a footnote in history. The once mighty Roman Empire is no more. But the Church of Jesus prevails.

 

Born into hostility and political upheaval, Jesus stands at the center of a world in relentless pursuit of peace. Kings and rulers of this world have long sought to establish more perfect forms of government. Their promises, even those well-intentioned, fall short. Every four years, Americans go to the polls hoping to elect someone who might bring true and lasting peace and prosperity. And four year later, we try again. What if, this Christmas, we finally recognize that peace is unelectable at the ballot box? What if we truly accept the peace delivered to us in a manger and wrapped, not in any nation’s flag, but in swaddling clothes?

 

 

Sovereign God, 

Nations rage and kingdoms fall, but Your Word is forever. Grant me the faith to believe that You work all things – even the evil intentions of others – for the good of those who love You and are called according to Your purposes. Give me the faith of Joseph to trust that You are working through the difficult circumstances of my life. Help me to remember that there is no king or ruler who can destroy Your plan or remove me from Your hand. 
Amen.

The Music of Christmas is available in print or digital formats.