Don’t you love it when a plan comes together and everything goes off without a hitch—no hiccups, snafus, or unexpected “surprises”? I mean, you work hard to put a plan together, coordinate all the pieces, making sure each one functions properly, and then launch time comes. Like a well-oiled machine, each piece smoothly transitions to the next, and the next….
Three nights before Christmas, our church held the annual Candlelight Service. It’s a highlight of the season—various individuals and groups participate, singing, playing an instrument, doing a reading, and so on. Of course, there’s the children. Wouldn’t be a Christmas program without them, would it?
The process involves a sign-up sheet posted for a few weeks so volunteers can let us know what they’d like to do. Then my job is to put the plan together, organizing all the different “pieces” into some kind of orderly program that will be meaningful and share the true meaning of Christmas. Then pray that everything goes smoothly! It kind of messes things up a bit when the program’s put together and printed off, then someone calls and says they’re sick, or they decided not to do their thing, etc. You get the idea.
So the plan came together nicely. The different pieces seemed to fit well into the general structure of the Matthew 1-2 and Luke 2 accounts. The children read from Matthew and sang “Angels We Have Heard on High,” the congregation sang carols, a couple of adults shared readings. We worked our way through the program to the Christmas star and the three kings, to the sleeping baby Jesus and singing “What Child Is This?” The pieces moved effortlessly. No hiccups. Nothing unexpected.
Then in receiving the answer to the congregation’s query, “What Child Is This?”—“This, this is Christ the King…”—the organist played a rousing rendition of the exhortation, “Go Tell It on the Mountain.” And that’s when the wheels almost came off. The unexpected happened.
Sitting on the front row were about eight children between the ages of 4 and 8. They were being so good, sitting patiently and (generally) quietly through everyone’s part. Then the organ came to the first chorus of the carol. “Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere….” Quietly at first, but loudly enough that I could hear from my place on the platform, two little guys on the front row added the lyrics to the organist’s playing.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to sit quietly, respectfully listening.
Well, since I am related to one of the two, I tried to “shhh” them. But when I saw the smile on the face of the adult leader sitting right next to them, I decided quickly it was a no-win situation. Let’s just see how it plays out.
Into the second verse went the organ, and the boys, still somewhat subdued, started in on the lyrics—they actually knew them! More and more people sitting around them could hear what was going on and the chuckles started. Then came the chorus. The organ volume increased and so did the confidence of the singing duo. “Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere! Go tell it on the mountain that Jesus Christ is born!” By the time they got to “Jesus Christ is born” they were nearly at full little-boy throttle. Certainly loud enough that nearly everyone in the congregation could hear.
People were smiling. Some, giggling. Others downright laughing. A few looked like they wanted to join right in—they were mouthing the words, anyway, but perhaps didn’t want to steal the show from the tykes.
I was hoping the poor organist didn’t hear, and if she did, that she didn’t feel like her piece was messed up. After all, she put in a good bit of work practicing and making sure it was done well. And it was. I was also hoping that others weren’t annoyed by the unexpected usurping carolers. You know, like when you’re trying to enjoy a nice meal in a restaurant, only to have your quiet conversation drowned out by a couple unruly children in a booth nearby.
After all was said and done, so many people left the program commenting on how special the spontaneous duet was…how much they enjoyed it…that it was a highlight of the program. Who’d a thought. A bit unexpected, to me, at least.
This all got me to meditating again on the Matthew and Luke accounts of the Nativity. There’s an awful lot of unexpected in those four chapters! Think about it.
In Matthew 1, there’s the unexpected appearance of five women in Jesus’ lineage, a list otherwise dominated by men: Tamar, an immoral daughter-in-law; Rahab, a harlot; Ruth, a foreigner; Bathsheba, identified as “her of Uriah”; and, of course, Mary, a virgin.
Have you ever counted the number of times people were terrified by the unexpected appearance of an angel?
It all began with Zachariah, husband of the virgin Mary’s cousin. There he is, dutifully minding his own business in the temple at the hour of prayer, in a dimly lit section of the temple offering incense. All of a sudden out of the darkness an angel appears and scares him out of his wits! Ahh, but he brought great news! Zechariah and his wife were finally going to have a baby, even though they were too old for such a thing! Six months later, Mary’s going about her day when Gabriel suddenly appears, frightening her, too! But no need, he says. She too is going to have a miracle baby, Jesus, the Son of God.
Then there’s Joseph. Poor guy. He gets the unexpected announcement from his fiancé that, um, she’s going to have a baby…and that, um, it’s a total miracle from God! Can you please imagine that conversation? “Joseph, please don’t look at me like that! It’s true! An angel told me that God’s Spirit was going to make me miraculously conceive!” Gave Joseph a good bit to ponder. Mostly wondering how to break off the engagement without totally humiliating Mary.
And then the unexpected happens. Yep. Another angel shows up with a message of “fear not.”
Clearly, he got the message. Several months later found them in a Bethlehem stable, with Joseph playing the part of midwife, helping to bring the miracle baby into the world.
While that was going on, a few miles away some shepherds were drowsing until the night sky was pierced by another angel. Another “stop fearing” message. A spectacular announcement befitting his spectacular nighttime appearance. Then a host of angels joining in to engulf the bewildered shepherds in blinding light!
I’ll not go on. When you get a few moments during this Christmas season, read those chapters in the Bible and look for the unexpected. To be sure, not every unexpected surprise turns out to be delightful. Indeed, the unexpected can be devastating. But sometimes—sometimes—when the best laid plans and finely organized programs get interrupted by the unexpected interruption of a couple of high-pitched little-boy voices, an unexpected smile breaks out on your face, forced by the unexpected delight in your heart.
May you have a Merry Christmas indeed!
Great program all the kids did very good