Once the giggly anticipation of my Christmas card delivery settled in my skin, I knew I had to get myself straight before I went to my mom's house today for Christmas Eve. It is a house of the Lord. If you don't know this scripture before you go through the door, you will know it when you leave.
Matthew 18:20
For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.
For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.
Earlier today I noticed that my friend, Lecha Rouse, had posted Whitney Houston's performance of "Do You Hear What I Hear?" on Facebook, and I froze. I found myself shallowly thankful for YouTube and the technology to bring that authentic gift from God through my speakers while Whitney filled my space once again like she has for more than half my life.
When I was a child, I was taught about a choir of angels surrounding the Lord in Heaven. I had a Crayola inspired image of what that choir must look like. I'm sure I've drawn it a hundred times on Home Federal note paper in church. If I drew in church, I had to draw spiritual pictures. I saw yellows, whites, silvers, and golds all adorning child like figures while the air looks fuzzy as their voices rise. Until today, that image never changed. Until today, I imagined God's chorus to be one of simplicity. Until I asked myself, "Do You Hear What I Hear?" today, I thought God's chorus might look like Charlie Brown's Christmas musical.
Can you imagine what it has been like in Heaven this week? I've complained about alarm clocks, deadlines, evaluations, stress, and traffic here on earth for a month. I've been equally cranky during the past week. Like many of you, I found myself before the television because I felt morally obligated to watch the people of Sandy Hook as they undoubtedly faced hell on earth. But today, I stopped complaining. Today, when I read Lecha's post, I stopped being sad about those babies. I stopped questioning God.
Today, when I listened to Whitney sing, "Do you know what I know?" I answered, "Yes."
As I sit at this keyboard tonight with music blaring from every possible speaker, not caring if I wake up Lightnin' or Orville next door, I have a new image of what the Lord's choir looks like this Christmas.
There are twenty children standing before their choir teacher. Her silver wings rise with the volume and strength of her voice. Her robe is white and emphasizes notes with her body as she rises and falls with every note. They are wearing little white robes, and their gold wings are tiny. Their wings don't rise, but they flutter quickly when the notes get high. They've been practicing since Friday before last. She met them at the gates and welcomed them to her music class because they must never be afraid to learn or go to school. There are no auditions; everyone became a member. Harps and trumpets are trying to keep up with their teacher, and a Little Drummer Boy is working feverishly to respectfully follow the teacher's lead. In just over seven days, the choir is ready, and today, they have begun their performance.
Tonight, as I sit in my little nerd cubicle, I know that Whitney Houston is leading a choir of angels in Heaven. Tonight, I have decided that her purpose was never to entertain you or me here on earth. Her time here was merely practice. Tonight, I am believing, because I can, her purpose, and the purpose of that powerful, timeless voice, has been to lead a choir of twenty angelic children as they praised our God and celebrated the birth of His son on this night in Heaven. That image has allowed me to make peace with madness, to stop questioning, and to know that nothing I hear on earth will sound as beautiful as it will sound there.
I found the lyrics to the song, and they read, "Way up in the sky, little lamb, do you see what I see?" I'm sure those twenty little lambs had been watching that star dancing in the night for weeks before they were taken to grasp it. Later, a lyric says, "Do you hear what I hear ringing through the sky, shepherd boy, do you hear what I hear?" I am sure the little boys from Sandy Hook can hear a song far above any trees and the voice that is big as the sea belongs to Whitney.
"Said the king to the people everywhere, listen to what I say pray for peace, people everywhere! Listen to what I say." I've heard the song for forty-one years, and the lyrics never resonated with me like they have today. I never took the time to sit down and study their meaning. I never took the time to give the lyrics any power. It's hard to hear the text when Whitney's voice delivers the sound. The song says we should pray for peace. I don't think that is about war, conflict, or politics. I think we are supposed to pray for peace in the hearts of Sandy Hook's residents and the people left behind. For I know, if I know nothing else, the twenty angels are earning A+'s in choir tonight.
In the end, Whitney sings, "He will bring us goodness and light." Each of us has a reason to give in to pain during the holiday season. We each awake on this day with some degree of loss. We each awake with some scar of disappointment. But, we still woke up. This holiday will be what we make it. And, I do believe, He will bring us goodness and light just like Whitney sings He will.
Can you imagine growing up with Whitney as your mother teaching you the words to "Jesus Loves Me"? Can you imagine her voice at a Christmas gift exchange? Can you imagine that power, talent, and force filling your home each holiday season? And then, can you imagine the silence this year? Can you imagine the silence in Sandy Hook or in Whitney's home?
I can't hear that silence, but I can hear that choir of twenty angels working hard to please their teacher and their God.
Step out on your porch and look up. Close your eyes. Hold your heart. Let me know if you hear what I hear.
