The Ninth Carol of Christmas

            My friends, I will now proceed to plagiarize from a friend's Christmas theme this year. It was so good I'm going to borrow it and hope he doesn't mind.

             I had the great blessing to attend, nearly out of the blue, a magnificent concert in the boon-docks of Morrisville(it's no more boon-dockish than Rolesville but because it's far away, that's how I'll spin it). I attended with a little trepidation, feeling somewhat the audacity of skipping a Master Chorale rehearsal to go to a concert hosted by one who was barely an acquaintance, but, there were two very good reasons for going.

         First, it was free and I will do almost anything for a free concert.

         Secondly, I had told said acquaintance I would go before I realized I had a rehearsal that night! You know how someone says Friday and you agree, but you're thinking Thursday? That's how it happened.

         Anyway, as I was saying, I entered that bare, little church with no little trepidation. It was a large plastic box of a building with a steeple stuck on for sanctification, and dressed up inside by wooden pews that clashed with the white, more modern feel of the rest of the sanctum.

        I sat there alone while the pews filled up, trying not to look conspicuous, excited but worried. Would it be worth it? Ought I to have skipped rehearsal? 

        And then it started.

       My friends, do you ever marvel at the providence of God? If just a few things had been different, had I remembered I had rehearsal before I told my acquaintance I would go to the concert, had our choir master failed to bring this event to my attention at rehearsal(this was not the one who's rehearsal I was skipping), I would never have gone to this event, and oh, how much I would have missed.

          It is impossible to fully describe how this magnificent musical performance moved me, and it is difficult to explain how much it inspired and encouraged me. Music does that for me; it lifts me out of the muck of my own self-introspection and crushing pride, it clears away the fog of blind arrogance and complacent thoughtlessness.

         When I am fully immersed in beautiful sounds, I feel most alive, most alert, most real, and most myself. It is as though the veil of sin parts for a moment, and I find myself standing in the presence of the Creator of all. He is beautiful.

           When I hear music like this, when I reach these moments, I wonder "What kind of God is He who creates something so beautiful?"
           I marvel at His greatness. I long to know this kind of God better.


           The concert was titled: What Kind of King, and the program centered about the Christmas story, alternating between music and Scripture narration. Like myself, when I hear music, a good Christmas celebration explores the character of a God who becomes flesh and dwells among us.

          It's winsome, it's attractive, and we want to know more about this God.

          That's precisely what this program did, and I am still living, somewhat in the light of glory of that concert.

          This Christmas wouldn't be complete if I didn't share with you just a bit of what I heard that beautiful night, so I'm going to share with you the title song; Larry Michael Parker's What Kind of King.


            Unfortunately, no recording can fully capture the beauty of a piece of music and none of the soloists I could find came close to the quality of the one I heard, but perhaps this gives you a little taste, besides making us think about the kind of king who would empty Himself and become like one of His creation.



       

         I long to know this kind of King better. Do you?

              ~ Christianna