The Sounds of Christmas: a meditation for Christmas Eve

As part of the Christmas Eve 2019 Service at Seattle First Baptist Church, the pastoral team and some congregants worked together on the theme of "Coming to Your Senses on Christmas Eve." We shared short meditations on the Sights, Sounds, Touches, Smells, Tastes and the "Sixth Sense" of Christmas. Here's the one I shared about the Sounds of Christmas.Church bells ringing. The Hallelujah chorus. Lessons and Carols broadcast from King’s College, Cambridge. Go Tell It On The Mountain. The hustle and bustle of malls. Homes filled with friends and family, full to the brim. The crackle of a cozy fire enjoyed alone. Little pitter-patter steps coming to wake you up to unwrap presents. Silent Night sung a capella. These are some sounds of Christmas. Amid the rush of December, the busy-ness of holiday shopping and mall Santas ho-ho-ho-ing, something miraculous happens. We gather together to tell again the story that is as old as time, already has been and has not yet come again, the story of a little baby born in a manger. And I don’t know about you, but I am pretty sure there was not a lot of silence on that holy night when Jesus was born. Laboring people are rarely quiet as they bring new life into the world. Anxious partners are not so silent as they rush to assist their loved ones in the birth process. And I have never met a cow, sheep or chicken that stopped mooing, baaa-ing or clucking when you wanted them to. So whatever the circumstances were of Jesus of Nazareth’s birth, I’ll bet you it wasn’t quiet. So why are we so attached to a silent Christmas? Silent Night is one of the most beloved Christmas carols, but probably not all that representative of the sounds on that first Christmas eve. Perhaps we think of silence as a sign of peace, hearkening back to the Christmas Armistice. When things are quiet, there’s no fighting, no warring, no arguing. But the cessation of sound can also be a sign of deep disturbance, like when all that could be said has been said in a fragile relationship. In activist circles, we often hear “your silence will not protect you” and “those who remain silent in dangerous times are not neutral; they choose the side of the oppressor.” Silence is a precarious tool that can be, and often is, wielded by the powerful.So what kind of silence are we seeking for this holy night? I wonder if it is the gentle silence of a newborn finally ceasing wailing and falling asleep in loving arms. Or, perhaps it is the silence of freshly fallen Christmas snow, softening the sounds of the city so that tired workers can sleep soundly at last. Maybe the quiet determination of people decidedly resisting hatred and bigotry through nonviolent methods. Maybe the silence was not a long silence, just capturing the moment before the kids wake up and the doorbell rings and the train rumbles past. Maybe it was just enough for a hint of holy.As Madeleine L’Engle wrote in one of my favorite advent devotionals, “Was there a moment, known only to God, when all the stars held their breath, when the galaxies paused in their dance for a fraction of a second, and the Word, who had called it all into being, went with all this love into the womb of a young girl, and the universe started to breathe again, and the ancient harmonies resumed their song, and the angels clapped their hands?” Just a moment of pause. Just a moment of holy quiet. Just a moment. Will you join me, please, for a short silence.(pause for 1 minute)Listen. Listen closely. I hear the sweet silence of a sleeping baby and the contentment of restful spirits. I hear the quiet that comes when sighs too deep for words are held back. I hear a world that waits with bated breath for liberation for all who are overshadowed by oppression. And I hear the good news that unto us a child has been born and their name shall be called Emmanuel, God-with-us. Do you hear what I hear?