Some of This is True

"At Christmastime it is hard for even the unbeliever not to believe in something if not everything.  Peace on earth, goodwill to men, a dream of innocence that is good to hold onto, the mystery of being a child, the possibility of hope--not even the canned carols piped out over the shopping center parking plaza from Thanksgiving on can drown it out entirely. Maybe we cannot manage to believe with all our hearts. But as long as the moments last, we can believe that this is of all things  the thing most worth believing."   from The Faces of Jesus, Frederick Buechner.

Since retiring from church music a few years ago when I had no choice but to engage in Christmas, I have become an observer of "Christmas" and not much of a participant.  The "shopping center carols" tend to drown out any semblance of  the authentic mystery and wonder of the season.  This year was different.  I told my wife early on that I'm "all in."  And for the most part, I was. We not only participated in several family gatherings, but at my bidding sought out Christmas social gatherings and events. One of those events was a concert of choir and orchestra at a local United Methodist Church. We chose that one because we knew the conductor and knew that it would be good music. In January of 1976, my  good friend Ken Medema began a concert at Samford University in Birmingham, Alabama with an improvised  song that included the lyrics, "Tonight you're going to hear more than just music." These words became true for me that fateful night as well with the concert a couple of weeks ago. Because of my education and experience, if music isn't technically good, then I can't enjoy it.  I just pick it apart. And after I get finished picking it apart, there's nothing left to enjoy. It's like peeling an onion to find its center. The music at this concert wasn't just good, it was astoundingly good. The orchestra was in tune and well-balanced.  The blend, balance and intonation of the choir was impeccable.  The diction was uniform and superb. The repertoire was perfectly balanced. The program saved the best soloist, a tenor, to the "contemporary" number at the end. All the musicians deserved the extended standing ovation they received. I joined in the applause

It's a shame that I  pick music apart. Because of that habit, I miss so much. Unfortunately, I am very capable of picking Christmas apart as well. And when I'm finished picking it apart, there's nothing much left of its mystery and awe.  Those "canned carols" take their toll. I understand and acknowledge that "the holidays" include many more celebrations than Christmas. And  for better or for worse, "Christmas" has come to include so much more than the birth of Jesus. Family gatherings, concerts, social events, shopping in the stores and online, the exchange of gifts and the activities from the North Pole are all a part of Christmas.  "The true meaning of Christmas" is different for everyone. Even so, the Biblical birth narratives for many Christians are at the heart of the season. I know that as beautiful and holy the narratives of the birth of Jesus are in Matthew and Luke, they're not the same. The genealogies of Jesus aren't the same. Some of the details of the visitors don't jibe. What  the holy family did before and after Bethlehem isn't the same in both accounts. Over centuries Christians have combined elements of both stories into one story.  This unified story has been retold and celebrated in carols, choirs and liturgical readings for so long  that it's impossible to separate them.  This unified story has become the Christmas story.  The first three chapters of Genesis contain at least two, and some scholars say three, different stories of creation. Since they aren't the same, does that mean they're not true? Something significant happened. Because we're here.

When my wife and I got back in our car after that incredible concert, I was still filled with whatever is "more than just music."  I was filled with the very heart of Christmas.  In that moment what I didn't believe about any of it didn't matter at all. And I looked at her and said, "Some of this is true." And in some sacred place in me, that doesn't demand certainty, all of it was true. I think Frederick Buechner is right, that in spite of it all at the heart of Christmas is "the possibility of hope."

So now will I stop picking music apart?  As long as there are screeching sopranos, strings that are out of tune and "canned carols", I will keep picking music apart. Will I stop picking Christmas apart? Can reindeer fly? Can I tune out current events?  Do I enjoy the company of every single person I see? I can't stop picking Christmas apart. But what I can do is to remember that in its essence, Christmas love, joy and peace is not only possible, but is real for those who choose, in spite of it all, to embrace them. No, I never saw a Baby in a manger, but in  a United Methodist Church that night in Chattanooga, Tennessee, I found  Him in my heart.  And for me, "this is of all things the thing that is most worth believing."