When we moved to Nashville, in now distant 2006, our old LPs were boxed up and moved with us; consigned to the shed because our turntable had broken around the time I was elected bishop, and I had been too busy to have it repaired. In truth, I hadn’t bought a record since the very early nineties, when the digital revolution came to our house; and most of our vinyl recordings pre-dated that. I hope I don’t have to define my terms here: these ancient artefacts of the analog age have had a bit of a comeback recently, perhaps lending a pleasing antique patina to this story. No need to explain what a record is, or a stylus, or what’s involved with an “album.” Maybe you yourself are an artefact of the analog age: if so, more power to you.
In the fullness of time, however, our children clubbed together this year to buy us a new turntable, and I unearthed our forgotten records from the dusty boxes in which they had been stored. After an interval of decades, I won’t lie and tell you I didn’t remember some of the recording artists I found, but there were some albums and tracks that I’d almost forgotten: bands like The Ramones, The Outlaws, The Michael Stanley Band, Little Feat (a great live album, best ever, take my word for it); even a favorite recording of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D Major, performed by Isaac Stern, that I had not heard on any medium for decades. Hearing the pop and crackle of these analog recordings was like hearing the sound of the past. Every age has its song, I suppose, the music that defines it. For better or worse, I guess those albums together constitute mine.
The first Christmas Eve, long ago in Bethlehem, had its own music, with lyrics provided by the angelic host. The Gospel offers us no record of the tune, but of course the angels who appeared to the shepherds that night were singing, were making melody. St. Augustine wrote, “Music is knowledge well-modulated” (De Musica 1.2.2), which was his way of saying that music provides measure, proportion, and connection that in a mysterious way moves both heart and mind. Worshippers tonight, I think, will understand what I mean.
Christian hymnody makes the claim, “Sing, choirs of angels, sing in exaltation…”; or “Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the newborn king…” as we ourselves sing each year at Christmas time. Poets and composers have done their best over the years to paraphrase, to capture, the tone of that first Christmas. “Angels we have heard on high, singing sweetly through the night…”. Again, “Angels, from the realms of glory, wing your flight o’er all the earth; ye, who sang creation’s story, now proclaim Messiah’s birth.”
James Montgomery, the poet who wrote those last lines, “ye, who sang creation’s story,” was on to something with his lyric. Our Gospel proclamation of deliverance from sin and death is an old, old song, stretching back at least to creation, and maybe even further. Song has accompanied the story of redemption at every step. “Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart” (Zeph. 3: 14), says the prophet Zephaniah, calling the People of Israel to their own tuneful response. “Sing the praises of the Lord, for he has done great things, and this is known in all the world” (Is. 12:5), runs the prophecy of Isaiah, looking both backward and forward to the promises of God. In short, God has acted, he will act in the future, and God’s People will sing about it.
When the shepherds heard the music announcing Jesus’ birth, they were hearing an old, old song in a completely new key. Every age has its play list, but this song transcends every time and place. It’s the same song we are hearing tonight, with every analog pop and crackle: the Gospel proclamation of Jesus’ birth, the coming of the Savior who now lives as one of us. It’s like the song that comes into your consciousness as if for the first time; but having heard it once, it seems like there has never been a time you didn’t know it. Or maybe it’s a song you’ve forgotten, that’s lain around waiting in a dusty corner of your mind and heart to be rediscovered and revived. Whatever the case, it’s still the same old song; the same message of salvation; the same God at work in the world, in your life and mine. “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors’” (Lk. 2:14).