Monday, November 14, 2022

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.

Sunday, November 13, 2022

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.

Saturday, November 12, 2022

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.

Friday, November 11, 2022

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.

Thursday, November 10, 2022

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.

Wednesday, November 9, 2022

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.

Tuesday, November 8, 2022

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.