The time between Christmas’ shrinks each year…at least it feels that way. Preparation for Christmas commences weeks in advance. Every year our sanctuary choir rehearses for three months to share a musical event of worship with our church family. Hours of practice and polishing culminate in one night of praise, honoring an infant King. On that night, we sing. Our anthems join with the celestial beings of old, touting the news of the Messiah’s birth.
Two thousand years ago, a ragged band of shepherds cowered in fear as an angelic choir illuminated the night sky, heralding the news, “Christ is born!” For the past twenty centuries, people have sung songs celebrating our Savior’s birth in hallowed halls of worship and while gathering together for family Christmas’ around old upright pianos. On cold snowy nights, clusters of carolers still brave the cold, parading over icy sidewalks and streets, belting out the good news of Jesus’ birth. Again, that’s why we sing.
For a moment, let’s quietly slip into a dimly lit stable. The flame of a small candle dances, illuminating the haggard silhouettes of a young couple. Lowing cattle huddle in a corner, hiding in the shadows. A donkey’s tail twitches nervously as the human strangers bed down in a neighboring stall.
After a while, infant cries drown out the noise of stabled animals. Mary cuddles her newborn and gently sways. Can you hear it? This young mother sings a lullaby. The tune? Simple and soothing. The reason? Adoration.
That’s why we sing.
