Song

The dessert has been brought out — the sweetness of Christmas is arriving.

And as we receive it, we sing.

Why?

          Because that’s who we are. We’re the people who sing because of how deeply we feel the truth of God’s love. We sing the praise of our Creator, the Founder of the feast. We sing because we are prepared — not by our own efforts, but by grace — for this great celebration. We sing because we have been taught to include singing.

We remember Mary’s Magnificat… in the wake of mystery and surrender. She sang of mercy, of reversal, of God’s faithfulness to the lowly. Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, sang as well. After months of silence — delivering him from grief — his first words were a song. He sang of redemption, of covenant, of the rising sun that would shine on those in darkness.

Praise began with angels. They shouted glory before the shepherds had time to understand. They filled the sky with music that broke through fear and lit the night with joy.

Singing was always part of Jesus’ life. He knew the psalms sung by his community as they walked from Nazareth to Jerusalem for the festivals. He sang with his disciples as they left the Last Supper. Singing was probably not unusual. It was how they lived. And that’s because we were created in God’s image. God sings over us.

And in Zephaniah, we learn something astonishing:

“The Lord your God is with you… He will rejoice over you with singing.”

(Zephaniah 3:17)

God sings over us. This is the music of the table. The dessert of Christmas is not just sweetness — it is song. It is the echo of angels, the courage of Mary, the release of Zechariah, the voice of Jesus, and the melody of God. So we sing.

We sing with gratitude.

We sing with praise.

We sing because we are part of the story.

We sing because we are loved.

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice.”

(Philippians 4:4)