Once again we have reached that time of year when stars and candles appear as metaphors of God’s ancient and incompara­ble love. Where shadows have darkened our path with pain, doubt, or discouragement, these reminders of his promises and presence restore us to a place of hope.

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Music plays a uniquely important role.

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As I sat down to pen this holiday message, Handel’s Messiah was playing in the background. Most people are familiar with the stirring Hallelujah Chorus, but did you know the full version of this remarkable oratorio consists of 53 movements and can exceed three hours when performed?

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It is also pure scripture, incorporating the prophets, psalms, gospels, and epistles. John’s Revelation supplies the lyrics for the famed Chorus.

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To draw attention to his message, Handel employed a technique called “word painting” in which the flow of notes creates an interpretive vividness.

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As a result, the impact of this musical sermon remains as rich today as it was 285 years ago. Indeed, for many of us, The Messiah has become a cherished part of our Christmas tradition.

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This morning, it was Handel’s depiction of the shepherds encounter with the angel of the Lord that caught my attention. Handel’s “word painting” had brought the story to life and I found myself staring, mouth agape, into an open heaven.

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“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

“Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth, good will toward men.”

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Listening to these words I wondered if this vast throng of angelic beings were as overwhelmed by what was taking place as the shepherds who heard their song. Here, after all, was a member of the eternal godhead decending from the highest of thrones to a feeding trough for animals. The deity who had spoken the world into existance was subjecting himself to the limitations of human flesh in order to restore intimacy with those who had broken his heart. The scenario was unprecedented… and stunning.

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I wondered, too, if the host that sang their praises from heaven’s parapet had any idea they would be echoed in homes, cathedrals, opera houses, and shopping centers thousands of years into the future.

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Whatever the angels perceived that day, there is evidence God was fully aware of these annual remembrances and was pleased to encourage them.

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When Handel shut himself up in his London flat on Brook Street to compose The Messiah, his spirit was seized to the point he scarcely ate or slept. For three weeks he could do no more than commit the oratorio’s musical word paintings to paper – and, in the words of former Haven Today broadcast host Charles Morris, “He wasn’t alone.”

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When the great composer got to the Hallelujah chorus, his assistant found him in tears, saying, “I think I did see heaven open, and the very face of God.”

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This Christmas let us join our voices with Handel and the angelic hosts, proclaiming:

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“Glory to God in the highest!”

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The kingdom of this world is become the kingdom of our Lord, and of His Christ

And He shall reign forever and ever

King of kings, hallelujah!

Lord of lords, hallelujah!

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In closing, I realize it has been a spell since my last direct communication, but I wanted to let you know a joyous report is due to arrive in your inbox the week after Christmas. In addition to explaining our quiet these past months, it will highlight some truly wonderful developments in Native America and South Asia. And for those of you who have been waiting patiently for The Gates of Whiteclay and The Moving Cloud story channel, there is even more good news. So keep your eyes peeled!

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Merry Christmas dear ones.

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George Otis

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