Luke 1:39-56
What is your favorite Christmas carol or song? Why?
My favorite seems to be different depending on when you ask me, but certainly one of my favorites over the years has been “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,” written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in 1863. It’s powerful message of hope for the day when God’s peace will indeed prevail in this world inspires me every time I hear it. And it reinforces my belief that the song of the angels on that first Christmas night, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace,” was a message that can be fulfilled.
We have been reflecting together on the story of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” for three weeks prior to this morning. We have remembered how the Grinch hated Christmas, even though the story does not tell us why. And we have been reminded that the Grinch really hated the way that the Whos celebrated Christmas, with their over-the-top decorations, their indulgent feast, their piles of presents, their noisy toys, and their constant joyous singing. We talked about how the Grinch made up his mind to stop Christmas from happening, and so he snuck into Whoville and stole everything from the Who’s houses that had anything to do with Christmas: the gifts, the decorations, the food, and the trees. He piled it onto his sleigh, and he forced his little dog Max to haul the sleigh up to the top of Mt. Crumpit, where he had it hanging over the edge, ready to push it off and destroy all of it. But then he paused, and he listened as dawn broke on Christmas morning, waiting to hear the weeping and wailing that was bound to ensue when the Who’s discovered that their Christmas had all been stolen.
Except for one thing. To the Grinch’s surprise, there was no sound of weeping and wailing. What he heard on that Christmas morning was joyful singing. Christmas had come anyway! The Whos were singing their Christmas song in spite of not having their toys, their trees, their presents, or their feast. And something changed the Grinch’s heart. Something happened and the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes that day. And it had something to do with that song, with the music. And the Grinch hurried to take the things he had stolen back to Whoville.
Music is a powerful gift from God. I love all kinds of music, and it has been an important part of my life since I was born. My grandmother was a church organist for over 30 years, and my mother played the piano at her church. She and my dad also sang in the choir, as did my mother’s four aunts. My brother is an excellent guitar player. I play piano and guitar and write music. I can’t imagine my life without music. And I can’t imagine worship without music, either, although this past year and a half we had to imagine worship without singing! And at Advent and Christmas, especially, we need music. I love all the familiar carols, and some of the unfamiliar ones, too. I have been fortunate enough to attend several marvelous performances of “The Messiah” around the Christmas season. And a couple of years ago, Pennie and I attended a Holiday Pops concert in Boston’s Symphony Hall, a long-time dream of mine.
I know that music flows out of the powerful emotions of our hearts. Often that emotion is joy. Many of the songs I have written have been born in my need to praise God. It’s like the time when Mary and Elizabeth meet in Luke 1. The child in Elizabeth’s womb – who would be John the Baptist – leaps for joy. And then Mary sings a song that has come to be known as “The Magnificat,” which begins as a song of joy.
But music can also come from places of pain or anger or grief. It can come from love and happiness and contentment. I have a cross-stitch picture hanging near my piano at home that says, “Music is love in search of a word.” The truth is, music is many emotions in search of a word. Music allows us to express what words are not able to say sometimes.
The power of music comes not only in the power of writing it, of expressing our emotions in that way, but also in the listening to it and feeling that emotion that was written by someone else and allowing it to express what is in our own hearts. Music can even transform us by its very essence and the way that we experience it. Scientists and music therapists say that humans are “hard-wired” for music, and that it stimulates our brains. In fact, music stimulates more parts of the brain than any other human function.
Listening to music increases the amount of dopamine produced in the brain, which makes it a treatment for depression. Music may reduce pain and anxiety for patients who have undergone surgery, especially if patients get to choose the music that they listen to. Studies have found that music may be beneficial for patients with fibromyalgia, which causes muscle and joint pain and fatigue; listening to calm, relaxing music of a patient’s own choice can reduce pain and increase mobility significantly. This is because listening to music triggers the release of opioids in the brain, which are the body’s natural pain killers. Music may be used to aid memory recall for adults who are in the early stages of dementia. And music can also be used to help patients recover from brain injury, such as from a stroke. For example, music may aid in speech recovery. Music has also been shown to help treat epilepsy.
Music therapy has been used to successfully treat PTSD in war veterans and abuse victims. There is an organization called “Resounding Joy” in San Diego which uses music therapy to treat depression, PTSD, brain injury, Down’s Syndrome, congenital heart disease, or other disease. Their music therapists study biology, psychology, and neurology, as well as training in voice, guitar, piano, percussion, and often other instruments. Last year they served almost 3,000 individuals, using music to address physical, emotional, social, and cognitive goals. Clearly, there is great power in music.
But I don’t need to read scientific studies or hear research results to know that there is healing power in music. I have experienced that healing power many times in my life. At no time was that healing power needed more than in the days and weeks and months after my mother passed away. We had been so close and her passing left such a big hole in my life, in my heart, in the depths of my soul. The pain was so big I spoke with a Hospice chaplain who was a member of my church and got some helpful advice and suggestions, but still that wound remained raw and unhealing.
I began to listen to more instrumental music. There were no words to express what was in my heart. I particularly was drawn to classical music, the piano concertos of Rachmaninoff and the violin performances of Itzhak Perlman and cello music of Yo Yo Ma. I found that somehow there were moments in the music that touched those places in me that nothing else had found a way to reach, and slowly, agonizingly, the emotions that I had held onto for so long worked their way out, and the tears came, and the healing started. And I can listen to those same pieces today and find the same comfort and peace that they brought me 25 years ago.
It was a song that transformed the Grinch that day on Mt. Crumpit. And the Grinch immediately acted on his change of heart. He raced down the mountain with his sleigh to return all that he had stolen from the Whos. The Whos didn’t reject or punish the Grinch for what he had done to them. In fact, they welcomed him as a guest at their table and allowed him the honor of carving the roast beast. They trusted that he really was a changed Grinch and welcomed him into the life of their community.
It reminds me of the story of Paul. Immediately after his conversion experience on the road to Damascus, he wanted to get to work for the cause of Christ. He began preaching in the synagogues there in Damascus and was so effective that he was perceived as a threat by the Jewish leaders. They began to plot against him, so that he had to escape the city at night, lowered over the wall in a basket. He returned to Jerusalem and wanted to join the disciples of Jesus, but they were all afraid of him. They didn’t believe that he was really a follower of Jesus. But then Barnabas spoke up for him and told them how Paul had met Jesus, and they changed their minds about him.
It may be that we are sometimes called to make room for reformed Grinches to come into our community of faith. We might be asked to welcome them with joy at their change of heart. And we will have to trust them, just like the Whos had to trust the Grinch and just like the disciples in Jerusalem had to trust Paul. And we ourselves might be transformed in the process, finding that our hearts have to grow three sizes in order to make room for these reformed Grinches!
