Faithful Paradox

It’s interesting to me when the Spirit decides to show me clarity. Maybe it was the man standing next to me who loudly announced that Away in a Manger was from the children’s fairy tale book he has. It stirred both sadness and awareness about his lost state alongside gratitude that the Lord has opened my own eyes. Or maybe it was the sweetness of hearing traditional Christmas hymns, with all their rich theology, played publicly in the city in which I live. Either way, I experienced a sweet and holy moment at (of all places) A Tuba Christmas this past Saturday. (Side note: A Tuba Christmas is a group of around 90 volunteer tuba and euphonium players that gather together from all over the state to give a free Christmas concert, playing traditional Christmas hymns in the public square).

I imagine the vast majority of the crowd this past Saturday that gathered was there to listen to the unique tune of 90 tubas and euphoniums playing together. That’s why I was there; to experience this quirky holiday tradition. I imagine many of the songs felt nostalgic, maybe even sentimental to the listeners. Christmas hymns, although laced with rich theology which scream the truth of the Gospel, are often not offensive to many listeners. It’s one thing I love about this season; walking through stores and hearing the truth of the Gospel played over the speakers. It feels, for even a few weeks, like the hope of heaven breaks through the darkness. These songs are so familiar that it’s easy to allow the words to pass over without really considering the message. I do that all the time.

As the tubas harmonized and bellowed through various Christmas carols, they came to O Holy Night. The fourth line of the first stanza hit my heart in a fresh new way: “til he appeared an the soul felt its worth.” The soul felt its worth. Never before do I remember really considering that line.

This world in which we live longs to feel worth. I find my own heart battling to remember where my worth comes from. I am drawn into the lie that my worth is found in how I perform or show up. I battle the lie that worth is found in money or relationships. I have to resist the lie that my worth comes through leadership or influence. But standing there on Saturday with hundreds of other listeners, the Spirit reminded me that the story of Christmas is one where God declared the worth of the souls of his children; the worth of my soul. The arrival of Christ as a babe in the flesh displays God’s promised price of redemption.

In that one line, the Spirit opened my eyes once again to the beauty of the Christmas story; the beauty of the hope of the gospel – “God did not send his son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him” (John 3:17).

God sent his son because my soul, your soul, was worth the immense sacrifice it required. We are people of extraordinary worth, not because of what we do but because of whose we are. While God’s sovereignty and glory are at the center of all he does, we see his extravagant kindness through the truth of Christmas. In Christ’s coming, we are reminded that we are deeply loved; deeply valued. I would have never expected to experience the Spirit at a quirky tuba concert in the middle of my city, but that’s where I was once again reminded that God came to be with us. What grace.