We Cannot Find Our Way

This forgotten carol of the Three Kings has always been a favorite of mine. Yes, I'm sure that there are times in my life when I've personally felt lost and needed help in finding my way through the fog and twilight of life's troubles. And I have found that help by way of the Heavenly guidance of my Savior, the bright Star of Bethlehem. But I think my love for this song has more to do with the gradual crescendo of the chorus, "I cannot find my way... we cannot find our way... we're not alone... three kings found the Lord, and so can we..." This crescendo reminds me that I am not the only one who is looking Heavenward toward that bright star. And there are many other wise men and women who are journeying alongside me as we follow that star wherever it leads us. And then I love how that gradually growing chorus culminates in the unified, collective shout of prayer, "Lord, help us find the way back home!" This reminds me that we all know exactly who that guiding star represents.

On this most sacred night on the eve of our Savior's birth, I share my personal testimony that Jesus Christ, the Holy Babe, the Son of God, and the Lord of All can and will be the Star of Bethlehem who will help us find our way through the twisting and winding paths of life. His light shines bright today, and it will shine eternally. I pray that you will feel the warmth and brightness of that light in your hearts and in your lives. And I pray that you will embrace and welcome that light into your lives, not just on this night of nights but all throughout the coming year and throughout your entire life as you look to the Star and follow it's Heavenly glow back to our Heavenly Home.

Merry Christmas and God Bless!

*******

Somewhere beneath the glitter that comes this time of winter 

In many souls there is a cry.

They may not clearly say it, but in their hearts they pray it, 

And you can see it in their eyes.

'I cannot find my way, I cannot find my way, I cannot find my way at all. 

There are so many voices, so many different choices, I cannot find my way at all.' 

There were three kings who followed the star of Bethlehem. 

They came from afar to praise and honor Him. 

His light which beckoned them to see The Lord of Man 

It calls to you, It calls to me. 

'We cannot find our way, we cannot find our way, we cannot find our way at all. 

There are so many voices, so many different choices, we cannot find our way at all.' 

We're not alone; we have a star, and it shines today. 

The love that He gave teaches how and shows the way. 

That light, it's clear to see if we have faith and believe. 

Three kings found the Lord, and so can we. 

And if you've lost your way, that light burns bright today, 

and it will shine eternally 

Three kings found the Lord, and so can we .

'Lord help us find the way, we need to find the way, 

Lord help us find the way back home' 

Three kings found the Lord, and so can we.

I Was Not His Father, He Was Mine

When I was a teenager, I have a memory of my neighbor, Will Terris, singing this Forgotten Carol in church, perhaps even on multiple occasions. Brother Terris has the most rich, deep, and beautiful voice that sounds so very much like that voice in the album track itself. Whenever I listen to this carol, I can almost travel back in time and imagine Brother Terris singing this song. But, despite the beauty that I was able to recognize as a young man in the melody and in Brother Terris' presentation, the message of Joseph the Carpenter's carol was largely lost on me until I became a father myself not so many years ago.

As a father, I finally had some inkling what Joseph may have meant when he sings about his fears and insecurities as a dad who was charged to raise the Son of God. Now, as wonderful as my four beautiful children are, none of them carry the title Son of God or Daughter of God (with a capital S or capital D) the way that Jesus Christ rightly carries that title. However, my most basic beliefs and faith help me to know that they are without a doubt sons and daughters of God (with lower case s's and d's). And, when I stop to think about it, my charge to raise them and care for them in a way that would please their Heavenly Father who has entrusted me with their safe keeping, nurturing, and instruction in light and knowledge should be no less daunting and inspiring of insecurities of my own than that charge entrusted to Joseph, the earthly father of our Savior.

I found some footage from a Mormon Messages video that really highlights some of that insecurity and fear that Joseph most assuredly would have felt. But I love so very much that moment when he gets to hold his divine son tightly both in a lowly stable while Mary is sleeping and on the road in a loving embrace. I know that Jesus would have adored his father and respected and honored him. And that makes me feel so much respect and love for my own father. And I only hope that I can somehow earn the trust and respect of my own children as I strive to fulfill that sacred charge with which I have been entrusted with dignity and in a way that would please my Father in Heaven.

Merry Christmas and God Bless!

*******

He was working late one evening with the wood he knew so well

When she thought she recognized him, though at first she couldn't tell.

As she humbly begged his pardon, a strange sadness swelled inside

When she asked, "Aren't you the father of that man they crucified?"

Then the carpenter repeated what he's said so many times.

He said, "I as not His father, He was mine."

Then he humbly went on working with those worn and calloused hands.

Though she did not ask more questions, he knew she didn't understand.

So he asked if she would help him, and he saw her answer in a glance.

She did all the chores he asked her; she was so grateful for the chance.

Then they talked for hours of Jesus and how he knew He was divine.

He said "I was not His father, He was mine.

"For how could one so foolish and so flawed

Ever hope to raise the Son of God?"

Then he spoke of the misgivings that he had had a thousand times

And how Jesus found the tender moments to let him know he'd done just fine.

And then the carpenter recited the greatest truths he'd ever learned

And testified they all came form Jesus, and then her heart within her burned.

They embraced as she departed, and Joseph told her one more time,

"Tell them I was not His father; tell them He was mine.

No, I was not His father, He was mine."

Handel's Dream

With my symphony orchestra this year, we had the chance to perform a Bach Christmas cantata with a very talented choir. And as beautiful as the piece was, I initially struggled to get into that musical work for several reasons. First, the piece was sung in German. That immediately chalks Bach's cantata up there in my book along with all of those foreign language operas that I can't understand and relate to, no matter how much translation or contextual explanation accompanies the production. Second, although the cantata is rife with Christmas messages, the piece seemed to jump around in its narrative without following what to me seemed like a story progression. The choir begins with a joyous chorus about the glorious day, then queue the angel, invite Mary and Joseph out to sing a duet of gratitude, cut away for a barn dance with spiked eggnog and mistletoe, get serious again by having King David come and declare that Christ is the fruit of his loins and the promised lion of Jesse, and then finish out with another joyous chorus about jabbing Satan in the rump with a big poker. The whole piece is very appropriate and fitting for the holiday. It just doesn't seem to connect with me in a narrative way, especially given the language barrier where I have to have someone describe to me what is being about. Did I feel uplifted by the beautiful music? Sure. Did I feel inspired? The jury may still be out on that one.

I contrast Bach's Christmas offering with that of his contemporary Handel. They lived just 40 miles apart from each other and must have crossed paths on many occasions. I have had the opportunity to play Handel's Messiah most years. Some years, it may be with a group that begins rehearsals back in September and works really hard to make its December performance a gift to the Christ child that is as close to perfect as possible to emulate the perfection of that holy child. Other years like this year, I've showed up on the day of the performance to play with a pick-up orchestra that hands out music a few weeks beforehand but only spends an hour or two before the performance running through the music as a group. Whatever the quality of the resulting music may be, I have performed The Messiah enough times that I have learned to appreciate the narrative progression of the musical work as it follows the story of Christ through repetitious scripture. In some ways, the constant repetition of scripture could make The Messiah as hard to relate to and "understand" as Bach's cantata. But the main thing that The Messiah has for me over Bach's Christmas work is familiarity. Everyone knows some of the most famous choruses. And there is nothing quite like hearing a choir belting out those choruses with full power and majesty. I love it.

I share these thoughts about Handel and Bach because today's Forgotten Carol is a something of a tribute to George Frideric Handel. I can't say that I feel quite as inspired by the angel/Handel character as I do by the fictional innkeeper or the fictional shepherd boy who slept through the angelic visitation. With these other characters, I feel compelled to look at myself and ask myself how I might have reacted in their shoes and what lessons their experiences might have for me. With the angel, I don't get that same drive to search my soul for Christmas meaning. 

However, I do find myself wondering where I may have been as an angel or a spirit myself when Heaven was shouting for joy during the wondrous birth, during our Savior's triumph over death, and during other key events holding significance for all mankind. Was I a part of some Heavenly choir? Was I having a party with you? Or was I quietly excusing myself to some private cloud for a moment of quiet contemplation and gratitude-filled prayer? I'd like to think that I was keenly aware of what was transpiring and that I was marking the occasion in some way with a celebration fitting of the event. 

But whether or not I was auditioning for a place in an angelic choir or orchestra, I love the way that Michael McLean's song declares that the tone deaf little angel who didn't make callbacks for his audition did have a voice that would be heard. That angel boy's "voice" would be heard through the musical voices of countless others. The song of his heart would find voice through the testimonies of people like me who each year sing or play Hallelujah!, Joy to the World, and Glory to God! But not everyone is a musician or a master of composition. I think about those who don't have an ounce of musical talent. How are their voices going to be heard? And then I think about those brothers and sisters of mine who I've observed from a distance who silently let their voices rise up in exultation through their expressions of testimony and belief, their Christlike acts of service and love, and their humble examples of goodness and faith. 

Each and everyone of us has a voice. And as the Grand Chorus master says, "You have so much to give, and your time will come. You have a different voice... [a] voice that will echo through time." Thankfully, there are those with angelic, beautiful voices who I'm sure heralded the birth with majesty worthy of that wondrous event; and, thankfully, there are many Handel's out in the world who can translate their musical genius into beautiful masterpieces I can enjoy. For the rest of us, we can let our voices ring out in other ways. Regardless of what the nature of your voice is, I hope you'll join me in singing with the angels and heralding our brother's birth once more this holiday season.

Merry Christmas and God Bless!

*******

In my dream, he told me, I was a very young angel in a very heavenly place, when a trumpet was sounded and an announcement was made. All the angels in heaven were invited to audition for the choir that would announce the Holy Birth. There was an excitement and a sense of anticipation that, well, it nearly caused my little angel heart almost to burst.

When my moment arrived, I stood before the Musical Tribunal, and I sang, and I sang, and I sang! And no one snickered, or laughed at me, because this was heaven. But I knew almost immediately that I would not be invited to join the heavenly choir for one simple and rather obvious reason: I couldn't sing. I could feel it; I could feel that music, but I couldn't get that feeling to come into my voice. Well, the Grand Chorusmaster, he smiled and nodded to his chief assistant to show me out.

"This isn't fair!" I pleaded. "If you could hear what's in my heart, you'd let me sing!" And I raced back in to beg the Chorusmaster to give me one more chance. And as I did, music filled that heavenly room. And I recognized it, because it was the music coming from my very own innocent, tender heart.

Hallelujah, Lord of all

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Be our guide every day

King and Lord of All

Give us the strength to see

how best to follow Thee

Hallelujah Lord of all

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

When all the heavenly singing had stopped, my friend told me that, in his dream, all the other angels stood motionless and amazed when they heard the sound. He said, and when my carol to my King was over, the Grand Chorusmaster himself stood, and said, "Oh little one, you have so much to give, and your time will come. Your time will come."

"Ohh... then I can't sing with the choir?" I wanted him to change his mind, but he just shook his head.

"You have a different voice," he said, "but it will be heard. Centuries from now, it will be heard. More orchestras and choirs than you can possibly imagine will be giving the music of your heart a voice that will echo through time."

Joy to the world, the Lord has come

Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

He is God, Praise His name

The King and Lord of All

Wonderful! Counselor! 

The mighty God! The Everlasting Father! 

The Prince of Peace!

The Everlasting Father!

The Prince of Peace!

You Were Not There in Bethlehem

For years, the Shepherd boy's Forgotten Carol has been my favorite. I find something truly inspiring in the boy's humble testimony, "Yes, I did believe them, though I'd not seen a thing. I did not go to Bethlehem or hear the angels sing. But there was something magic in the air that made me feel as if I'd been there." And of course, there is the boy's stirring invitation, "Do you thing you'll join us, though you've not seen a thing? If you feel the spirit in the air, then just like me you'll know that He was here!"

This boy's story is so relatable to me because I am surrounded by many wonderful brothers and sisters of mine who share their testimonies of our elder brother and how they know of His truthfulness and His divinity. And without hard physical evidence or proof of the truthfulness of the Nativity story, I am compelled to trust and to yield to that magic and that spirit in the air that can help me feel as if I'd been there. I pray that you can feel that magic in the air this Christmas season.

Merry Christmas and God Bless!

*******

The flock was more than peaceful; the night was dark and deep.

The stillness wrapped around me; I drifted off to sleep.

And when my friends awoke me; oh, what a tale they had to tell!

They said the angels told them about a newborn King.

They had a star to guide them; they heard the heavens sing.

They said that, when they found Him, they knew they'd never be the same.

Somehow I did believe them, though everything I knew

Said I should not believe them; this story can't be true!

But there was something magic in the air that made me feel as if I'd been there.

I asked a thousand questions; their answers startled me.

The more I heard, the more I thought I knew this could not be.

And then the struggle started, my head was wrestling with my heart.

Why would a God from Heaven come to the world this way?

Why in a lowly stable would the Messiah lay?

I shook my head and asked them to tell the story one more time.

And yes I did believe them, though I'd not seen a thing.

I did not go to Bethlehem or hear the angels sing.

But there was something magic in the air that made me feel as if I'd been there.

I knew that, as the world moves on through time,

There would be more stories just like mine

About the souls who've chosen to believe in something that they never got to see.

So do you think you'll join us, though you've not seen a thing?

You were not there in Bethlehem to hear the angels sing.

But, if you feel the spirit in the air, then just like me you'll know

That He was here, He was here,

The King of kings and Lord of lords was here!

He was here, he was here

And He will come again, for He was here!

Homeless

Of all of Michael McLean's Forgotten Carols, this is one that I've always enjoyed but struggled to relate to. I'm not sure if that is because I have not interacted much with the homeless, because I see them all the time on the street corners, or because the other Forgotten Carols relate to a specific character or group of people, whether fictional or not, out of the Christmas story and this one does not.

When I found this beautiful short film about a homeless man from HKZ Productions, I finally had something visual and visceral to latch on to when I hear this song and think about my elder brother as the Son of Man who had not where to lay his head and yet is making possible an eternal and heavenly home for each and every one of us.

This Christmas season, if you relate with this homeless man or his newly acquired homeless friend, I pray that you will feel the love and peace that comes this time of year when we celebrate the birth of one who also found himself without the comfort and stability of a regular home. If you relate more with those who those who shied away from this homeless brother or even gave him wide berth, I hope that you can recognize those around you who are looking for acceptance and for a helping hand this season. May you find that love where in there is a home for each and every one of us.

Merry Christmas and God Bless!

**********

Homeless, Homeless

Like the Christ child was

Homeless, Homeless

But there is hope because

He came down to earth to lead us

He vowed He'd never leave us

Homeless, Homeless

For in His love there is a home

Oh so Homeless, Homeless

Was His humble birth

He was Homeless, Homeless

And still He changed the earth

Nothing kept His heart from giving

Most of His life was living

Homeless, Homeless

He showed it's how we live,

Not where

When His homeless days on earth were done

He went home to where we all came from

And He went to prepare

A mansion for us there

He gave His whole life to lead us

And I know He'll never leave us

Homeless, Homeless

For in His love there is a home.

Let Him In!

Last spring, I had an amazing experience creating a series of videos showcasing one of my all-time favorite Easter-themed musical works, Rob Gardner's Lamb of God. Recently watching these as a part of my Christmas seasonal celebration, I felt inspired to do something similar with another musical favorite, this one Christmas-themed.

Just like last spring, when I shared one Lamb of God video each day in the week leading up to Easter Sunday, I thought I'd again share one of these videos each day in this last week before Christmas day.

Michael McLean's forgotten carols have been a Christmas tradition in our family for years. These beautiful carols are not about kindly gift-giving saints, animals indigenous to the north, wintry weather, or even those individuals whose experiences with the infant Christ child or even the adult Messiah are well known and often on our lips. Rather, these carols revolve around some individuals who we often forget to think about and whose experiences with Christ don't get a lot of thought but whose experiences are rich with meaning for us if we give them our attention.

Whether or not Mary and Joseph were turned away from a single inn, multiple inns, or no inns at all, and whether Mary delivered her infant babe in a barn, a courtyard feeding area, or a hillside cave, I find the the stirring message of this likely fictional character in the Nativity story compelling and inspiring and one that makes me want to open up the door to my humble home to invite in my Savior this Christmas season as we celebrate His wondrous birth and life and as we strive to be a little more generous and inviting and willing to open our doors to family, friends and strangers alike.

May your homes be warm, laden with bounteous blessings from our Father in Heaven, and filled with the spirit of love, peace, and joy during this holiday season and throughout the year.

Merry Christmas and God Bless!

**********

I am a man forgotten, no one recalls my name.

Thousands of years will fail to fully erase my shame.

But I turned a profit nicely the day that I turned the couple away...

I turned them away...

I didn't sleep that evening, though I'd sold out my place.

Somehow I felt uneasy, something about her face.

Why did I wish that I'd let them stay?

I don't think they could have paid... Or could they have paid?

Restless, I left my bedroom. I walked the streets all night.

Lost in the world I lived in, found by a heavenly light.

Staring at one bright star in the sky, I heard a baby cry.

And I knew where that cry had come from,

cause I'd told them where they could go.

But I didn't think I could face them, and so I walked slowly home.

Missing my chance to share in their joy, I never saw the boy.

He never would condemn me. I did that all on my own.

He offered His forgiveness; and ever since then, I've known

He lets us choose each hour of each day

If we'll let Him in to stay.

Let Him in! Let Him in!

Let the peace on earth begin!

Let Him in! Let Him in!

Let the hope and joy begin.

And whether it be in your world today,

Or a crowded Bethlehem Inn,

Find a way! Make Him room! Let Him In!