A few weeks ago we were singing a hymn in the middle of worship at Zion Lutheran Church. We were just finishing the second verse when all of sudden the organ went silent. The organist was pushing down on the keys, but there was no sound coming from the speakers. Our organist looked to me with a bewildered look that said, “What do I do now?” I gave him a look of shock that said, “What happened?”
Once we had shaken off the shock and surprise we simple moved to the next part of the service and later we continued our singing with the piano.
A few days later a technician arrived to repair the organ. He opened the organ’s innards and began to pull out circuit boards, and amplifiers. There were many parts that needed to be replaced including: amplifiers, fuses and even some chips on the circuit boards. He simple heated up his soldering iron and replaced the chips and amplifiers that had been fried. It was amazing to see the skill of the technician, seeking out the broken chips and replacing them. Once the circuit boards were re-installed with the new chips, the organ’s sound was once again restored.
I was thinking today about the organ and how it went silent. Sometimes I feel like that organ. The organ was made to make loud and amazing music, and yet, there it was silent, not fulfilling its purpose at all. There were some vital circuits that had been fried.
Sometimes I feel that my keys are being played, but there is no sound coming from my life. I wonder if my circuits have been fried by all the demands of life. Normal weeks are filled with stress and the demands of family, but these past few weeks have been even more burdensome. The stresses of the economy, the worrying about job security, the demands of preparing for Christmas, are simple overwhelming. Do you ever what to just say no to everyone and everything that needs your attention? Do you ever feel that you’re not fulfilling your purpose, like a organ that’s silent because its circuit boards have been fried?
Author Patsy Clairmont writes that one year, she decided to write "Noel," the French word for Christmas, in bright lights on the roof of her house. Unfortunately, she ran out of lights halfway through the project, so she ended up with just the word "NO" in flashing, multicolored lights on her roof. Some of us want to say "NO" to the Christmas season too. We are too rushed to enjoy it. We are too detached to experience it. We are too cynical to believe in it. We are too fried to live it.
Sometimes when our lives become so hectic, frenzied, difficult and messy we feel God has abandoned us to the forces of fate, evil or despair. It is during these messy times that God’s presence hovers near to
us. For Christians, “stable” moments aren’t those few days when calm briefly descends upon our
world. Our true “stable times” are when we look around and see that however unpredictable, unmanageable and unimaginable our mess, the message is there even more. At Christmas, the mess
is the message.
Jesus was born in a stable -- a small, cramped, congested, messy place. A new born baby was out -of-place, out-of-sync, amid the dusty animals, the mucky straw, and the spilled grain. But the mess is the message of Christmas. There is no stable, no place in our world or in our lives that is too poor, too remote, too outcast, too “other,” too messy, that God cannot be found and formed in us.
As Christmas approaches, we will all find ourselves at wit’s end, running out of time, out of patience, out of money, out of ideas. Don’t be fooled into thinking that God cannot draw close to your life, to your heart, just because your schedule seems “too busy” for Christmas. If your life is hovering near overload, you could be on the very cusp of experiencing genuine “stable time” in your life. Open up to it, exalt in it, and be willing to let God love and care for you. I pray you may experience a very Blessed Christmas.