December 5, 2021: Second Sunday of Advent, Year C
Baruch 5:1-9
Psalm 126:1-2, 2-3, 4-5, 6
Philippians 1:4-6, 8-11
Luke 3:1-6
Music and the Coming of the Messiah: How the Songs of Christmas Prepare our Hearts for Incarnation
A reflection by Marianne Seggerman
When I first read the passage from Baruch that is this Sunday’s first reading what came to mind was Beethoven's Ode to Joy. The second reading – excerpts from the first chapter of Philippians – echoed the note of joy. Then when I read the Gospel passage from Luke’s third chapter, the sounds of the opening number from innumerable productions of Godspell rang in my head – “Prepare ye, the way of the Lord.” (As an aside – I used to wonder how Stephen Schwartz, one of the many composers featured in the PBS special Broadway Musicals, a Jewish Legacy, could grasp and transmit Christian spirituality so beautifully. Then I recalled the image of Jesus dazzling religious leaders from an early age and remembered the religious tradition Jesus was grounded in.) There is a passage from both the first reading and the Gospel which is a phrase from one of those ponderous baroque choral numbers – Bach? Handel? – about raising valleys and leveling mountains. I have seen Handel's Messiah more than once I am sure, and when I was growing up my parents would take me and my siblings up to Tanglewood where we would sit through interminable Bach oratorios.
Why do today's readings bring to mind music for me? One possible reason is that for me the Christmas tradition is not family nor food but music. I try to see at least one production of Amahl and the Night Visitors every Christmas season. The score is glorious, and I never fail to choke up when Amahl throws aside his crutch. In 2020, like with everything else, the production I saw was online. I have seen so many productions that my boyfriend would sing, “This is my box, this is my box I never travel without my [litter] box,” to my cat when I dropped him (the cat!) off before a visit to an aunt on the West Coast or a conference somewhere.
What music provides the soundtrack to your own preparation for the celebration of Christ’s coming? Are there songs taken from the harmonies of Handel or the melodies of Broadway? Or are they the simple hymns that we know so well despite the fact that we sing them for only a few weeks a year? Do you find yourself humming, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” or “On Jordan’s Bank”? Perhaps you grew up with “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming,” or “People Look East.” Do you feel like it is not really Christmas until you’ve sung “Silent Night,” “Go Tell It on the Mountain,” or “O Holy Night”? What melodies do you find yourself humming this time of year?
It seems a question worth asking because music can also be a sacrament. Like the Eucharist, music can bring about in us the joy or sadness or mystery it points to. These are the songs that engender the spirit of the Incarnation in you. The songs that bring the mystery of joy or compassion into your own body. They usher into our hearts a bit more deeply the mystery of Divine Love that is always and everywhere being made flesh.
The word that ties the reading together, sung or not, is joy. Even the Gospel trembles with joy in anticipation that the wait for the Messiah would soon be over. Jesus will begin his ministry in a land under Roman occupation, with secular and religious leaders who could hardly be described as benevolent. The Baptist cries out that we should make winding roads straight and lower mountains to hurry this joyful coming. Ironically, it is Jesus’ coming that makes possible our own journeys into the Holy. In that sense, music offers evidence of the Incarnation. It is just one more way that Love can be made tangible – hearable – in our world. One more way our spirits can be filled with, and yet still long for, a Love that knows no bounds.
Oh and this year? Norwalk Symphony Orchestra will play Amahl and the Night Visitors, on Sunday, December 5. I am already looking forward the soaring melodies and eternal story. Love made hearable, indeed.
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