A couple of million hits on YouTube have circulated the phenomenon of seemingly spontaneous “Hallelujah Chorus” performances in department stores and shopping malls. The response has been shock and surprise from bystanders but definitely lifting the spirits of all who witness this singing. On another occasion, ticketed participants paid for the opportunity to be a part of a professional production of “The Messiah” – an epic oratorio by G.F. Handel frequently performed during the Christmas season. Thousands crowded into the concert hall as people were assigned to their singing sections: soprano, alto, tenor and bass. With musical scores in hand, accompanied by a full professional orchestra, choir and soloists seated in the center of the stage, we commenced singing the story of the Messiah.
There was no way of knowing who among those many musicians claimed Jesus as their Savior and Lord but the music was beyond description, every inch of space filled with sound. But when that great throng of singers sang the phrase, “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain,” I completely lost it. Tears ran down my face as I listened to that massive vocal declaration. I imagined the sound of heaven, the volume of millions of voices exploding their joy at the announcement of Immanuel the very presence of God with us!
In stark contrast is creation’s grand pause the quiet entrance of this Bethlehem baby. With unspeakable humility, heaven delivers the child that will split all of history. God is not mute in his coming as his Word is made flesh and, with human lungs, he cries out as a helpless newborn – “a small powerless child born away from home.” (Nouwen) His entrance deserved a global wall of sound: the earth’s choir singing their unbridled praise. Instead, Christ emptied himself of all the advantages of deity, taking on the confinement of skin, the endless debate of his lineage and the restraints of man’s finite comprehension of this humble King of kings. Man was silent in response; heaven was not.
Heaven was compelled to respond to such an act of humility. The heavenly hosts filled the night sky shouting, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”
Appropriately, though, this magnificent news came first to humble recipients: to Mary as an ordinary teenage girl, to the shepherds in the fields. Had Jesus come as he was in heaven, co-creator of Triune status, we might never have approached him. On purpose, he was clothed in humility, coming to all – to anyone with a heart humble enough to receive. Only heaven knew the impact of this kind humbleness – that anyone willing enough with the same posture of humility would receive the glories of heaven, sharing sonship with Christ as brother. Outrageous though it was, it was the only way we would understand that this news was for everyone.
So how do we meet him at Christmas and anytime we go to him in prayer? We meet him just the way he came, with humility, vulnerability. And then what is our response to heaven’s generosity? It is to burst into the music of our soul, our spirit, and offer the song, the prayer even the angels cannot voice.
O holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin and enter in, be born in us today. We hear the Christmas angels – the great glad tidings tell:
Oh, come to us, abide with us (in us – my emphasis), Our Lord Emmanuel!
