Dangerous carols

The other night we went to a church Christmas devotional featuring music by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and the Orchestra at Temple Square. I always enjoy the music when those two groups get together, and even more so when it’s Christmas music. But as seems to be traditional, they ended with “Silent Night” and encouraged everyone to sing along on the third verse.

I didn’t. I couldn’t.

I love to sing, but I learned a long time ago that I get too emotional with certain songs. “Silent Night” is the mother of all emotional songs for me. I just can’t get through it. I’ve pretty much stopped trying.

In high school I was part of the show choir, and during the Christmas season we did a lot of performances around town for various groups and parties, usually between 20 and 30 over a month. We would end every performance with “Silent Night”, and even then when we would do as many as three or four performances in an night to the point it became almost assembly-line work, we would still feel something special with that last departing song. We’d walk out of the venue singing it, then gather somewhere nearby to complete it, and it would always leave us with a pleasant, joyful glow.

That was close to thirty years ago and I still remember that feeling.

But since then it has come to mean even more. I was young then, and as yet largely unacquainted with the struggles and pains of life. I didn’t really understand the words behind the song. I didn’t understand yet why any of us would need a savior. Not really. But over the years I’ve learned, and usually the hard, painful way. There have been struggles and heartaches to overcome, dark places in my soul, and defects of character that I can’t overcome on my own. This is nothing unique to me, I realize, and that’s the point. No matter how “together” we appear on the outside we all have things that keep us from being our best version of self.

Jesus Christ didn’t come to earth just to open the “dawn of redeeming grace”. He came to help those who will turn to him become better. I’ve seen this happen in my own life as I’ve worked one some of my weaknesses for years, making slow but sure progress. I’ve seen it happen at other times when I’ve turned something over to Him and had that particular weakness essentially removed, so quickly and thoroughly I’d be inclined to call it a personal miracle. And so there’s also a lot of joy, relief, and sorrow associated with the song I associate so closely with Christ. It’s pretty much guaranteed I’ll get choked up before I get very far.

A few other carols come close. “Oh Holy Night” is one. “O Come Emmanuel” is another. The rest mainly just make me happy, and remain some of my most favorite music of all time. But “Silent Night”… I doubt Franz Gruber and Joseph Mohr had any idea what they were starting when they collaborated on this timeless classic. This may be a case where it would be considered high praise that someone finds their song completely unsingable.