Christopher H. Edmonston
December 9, 2007
The Service of Lesson and Carols
Advent 2 – Howard Memorial Presbyterian Church
I want to begin my very brief remarks this morning by asking a rhetorical question: is there anything more indicative of the human life, more unique to the human experience, more necessary to the Christian faith and to the expression of our joy before God than the singing of song, the praise we offer through hymn, carol, or anthem? To be sure the human animal is the only creature with our vocal abilities, with the ability to construct harmonies, changes musical keys, build and invent instruments, or sing in multiple parts. This is not to say that the cacophony of the animals that daily raise their voices to heaven are not beautiful, or are not praiseworthy. It is to say that music – its composition, performance, and prevalence – is perhaps the most unique, and fitting, and harmonious way through which we praise our God. And the sharing of hymn and carol, and the joining of voices to praise the throne of grace – is among the basic and most essential affirmations of the Christian faith and the Christian life.
The German reformer Martin Luther once said, “Next to theology I give to music the highest place and honor. Music is the art of the prophets, the only art that can calm the agitations of the soul; it is one of the most magnificent and delightful presents God has given us.” And indeed he was right. Luther took this idea that music was “magnificent and delightful” so seriously that wrote several hymns himself – the most famous being “A Mighty Fortress if Our God.” Like most hymn writers Luther almost always placed the lyrics of his hymns in the melodies of the secular world, and Luther was particularly fond (or so I have been told) of placing his lyrics within the melodies of tavern songs and the popular songs of his day. Thus Luther is one of at least four men who are credited with replying to the charge that his hymns were nothing more that occasions for salacious behavior with the axiom: “Why should the devil keep all the good tunes?” What he did say though is something I know to be true – “the devil does not stay where music is.” Which is a way of saying that music inspires joy and memory and is a means through which the Spirit speaks to us all. Where there is joy there is an absence of sin and pain – and the devil has no footholds where the heart sings and the Spirit makes sweet melodies.
Today we share a service of lessons and carols. The story of the promised Messiah, of God’s plan for hope for the world and eternal life is told through the words of the prophets and the narrative of the gospel. The carols we sing and the anthems of the choir are the praise-notes of our faith in response to the story of our Savior and his birth. Is there any wonder that the great music of our church and the great songs of our faith are sung on the occasion of the birth of Christ? The joy of Christmas breaks forth and the joy of our faith is expressed in joyous song. We learn the great lessons in our lives through the songs taught to us by our mothers and fathers; we learn our alphabet through song; we get through heartbreaks with song; we celebrate victories and commemorate defeats with song. Music is part of our human nature and it is part of the story of our faith – God is pleased when we sing for it is what we were made to do.
I don’t think that I will ever forget, no matter where life should take me, the family of Allan Jones singing Christmas Carols to him this week in the hours before he died – they sang because the tunes were close to memories, and the memories were affirmed in the songs – the songs that celebrated life and family and God’s great promise of Christmas, of life eternal, that God would hold him even though life would soon let him go. The tidings of comfort and joy they sang to him from the deepest well of praise and memory certainly were the tidings of Good News that Allan needed, and would have wanted, to hear.
Nor will I forget the story of Karl Barth – the greatest theologian of the 20th century. The writer of thousands and thousands of pages of systematic theology and biblical interpretation. Legend has it that at the end of his life, a reporter asked him what the most important thing he had learned in all of his study had been – what stood out as the most essential lesson? Karl Barth sang to the man from memory and with joy, “Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”
There is no coincidence that this lesson was taught to him in song. None whatsoever. Nor any coincidence that he remembered it well into old age. Music is the life-blood of our faith, and we praise God, and honor grace when in our music God is glorified.
Thanks be to God for songs and the ability to sing. For the complexity of compositions and the simplicity of children’s tune. Thanks be that our world is full of sound and of the sound of music’s praises.