Thank God for Ear Worms

The Rev. Jarrett Kerbel

Some people sing in the shower. I confess that I sing in the car.

When I sing along with the car radio, my son Tim likes to ask me, “Who sings this song?”

“Bob Dylan,” I answer.

“Let’s keep it that way,” responds Tim.

I laugh and, much to his chagrin, I keep on singing.

Even worse for my children is when my wife and I both sing along to songs we love from the 70s. We know every word of every AM radio hit of that decadent decade. Queen, Frampton, Bee Gees, the Spinners, Elton John, Fleetwood Mac, and Springsteen; we know every word, chord change, tempo change, and grunt. Never did we study or even glance at the lyrics. Yet we know every word.

This is the power of music. It is the same reason that School House Rock engraved the Preamble of the Constitution in my memory forever. Music is the greatest teaching device ever gifted to us by God. At church, our hymns serve to praise God and they also serve to form us, imprint in us the story of God’s love and grace. Hymns are marvelous delivery devices for knowledge of God, that, if we are lucky, stick with us through every stage of life.

Church attendance for my children was non-negotiable for just this reason. My wife and I wanted them to stew in the rich broth of hymnody and prayer so it would be there when they need it. More about God was communicated to them by hymn singing and choir anthems than any argument or testimony we had at home.

Our work with our children is to expose them to what we know is good food so they develop a taste for it that outlasts their love of mac and cheese. Baptism is the first step in the pickling process, where the new life of grace infuses their lives, and ours, transforming us from cucumber to pickle across a lifetime of growth. Be sure to immerse yourself and your family in regular baths of great hymnody and prayer so we will all be able to sing along with the angels and archangels when the time comes.

Blessings,

The Rev. Jarrett Kerbel

Rector

Check out these opportunities this Advent season to immerse yourself and your family in song. Don't forget to share them with your friends, too!

Carol Sing - 9:15 a.m. Sunday, December 16

Messiah Sing Along - 7:00 p.m. Wednesday, December 19

Read Erik Meyer's blog about Advent Hymns here

Christmas Worship - visit StMartinEC.org/christmas for the full schedule

The Advent Power of the Christmas Tree

We decorated the Christmas tree the Sunday after Thanksgiving this year.

“It seems too early,” my husband complained.

“Christmas decorations are up everywhere else, and we’re behind, ” my 14-year-old countered.

“This is the only day that the whole family will be here until Christmas,” I said, as I realized that in a few hours my son would be heading back to college after his brief Thanksgiving break. “It’s going up today.”

Settled.

I don’t know how others decorate their Christmas trees. We are great collectors of ornaments, both humble and grand. Nearly each one prompts a story that is retold every year, with titles like “The Origin of the Enormous Fake Dragonflies” or “Why We Won’t Toss the ‘Sputnik’ Ornaments Dad Made in Third Grade”.

My son and daughter aren’t little any more. They space the ornaments nicely instead of clumping them all in one place, a foot from the bottom branches. Every year their questions are more sophisticated, and they hear the stories in new ways. And so do I.

Don’t tell my kids, but putting up the Christmas tree is a rich, spiritual, and deeply powerful Advent ritual in my family. We connect ourselves to a long, complex narrative that blends family story and esoteric symbol; we construct a place where past meets future. As we navigate this overcrowded tree, we reluctantly separate out some things that are too damaged to keep or that have lost their meaning. And we keep some things for inexplicable reasons best called “mystery”. For example, the beakless, blue chicken made the cut again this year. “I like it, don’t throw it out,” someone declares. And it stays.

The lights go on, and we thrill at it. Over the next four weeks this tree will draw me. I will play with the arrangement, regularly moving ornaments around to fill empty spaces. I will sit in a tree-lit room and contemplate. I will remember. I will think ahead.

To be sure, our family has other rituals that are more specific to this pre-Christmas season. Each night we put symbols on a little Jesse tree -- origami decorations that tell the story of Salvation History and count down the days till the Christ arrives. On Sundays we light our Advent wreath and sing O Come O Come Emmanuel.

But the Christmas Tree itself does the holiday on its own terms. With its pagan past and decorations that are more reminiscent of family vacations than of the Holy Family, my tree doesn’t exactly foretell a baby born in a manger stall. In its glorious ambiguity it layers the many narratives of this time of year. It makes room for all of it in its bendy, manufactured branches. And each year there is still space for more.

In his book, The Legend of the Bells and other Tales, John Shea retells a Cherokee story, “Why Some Trees are Evergreen.” After the Great Mystery makes the plants and trees, he wants to give a gift to each according to its ability. So he set up a test, challenging them to stay awake and keep watch over the whole earth for a week. Most of the trees nod off by day three, but the cedar, pine, spruce, and fir and their kin are still vigilant when the Great Mystery returns at week’s end. Their reward is to remain green forever, so that even in the deadness of winter, animals could find warmth and sustenance in their branches.

Tell stories. Ask questions of the symbols. Hold the past in your hands. Find time. Make room. Stay awake until the Great Mystery returns. These are the subtle, Advent invitations of the Christmas tree. I’m not sure I’d be ready for Christmas Day without them.

- Barb Ballenger

Your turn! What stories does your Christmas tree tell? Let us know in the comments.