Just before writing this post I turned on the radio and had my “Whamageddon moment”. For those not in the know, I did a little google search to get Wikipedia’s summary:
“Whamageddon is a game played during the 24 days before Christmas in which players try to go from 1 December to the end of Christmas Eve (24 December) without hearing the song “Last Christmas” by British pop duo Wham!.”
Thank-you Wikipedia.
However, for me, my Whamageddon is not the song by Wham. In fact, I don’t think I’ve heard it yet this December.
My song is I Need a Silent Night by Amy Grant.
I just flicked on the radio a moment ago, right at the start of the song. “Oh no.” I said as per my usual custom. Then I went and lay down on the floor to see if it’s still got its punch.
Yep, that Baby Baby’s still got it in spades.
I’ve blogged about it before, but I appear to have some sort of trauma response in connection with that song because it always makes me cry.
And it just did it again.
I know I get tired and emotional in December but not every song makes me cry.
A student’s parent broke me a few weeks back when they sent me an email thanking me for working with their child over two years. It was when they used the phrase ‘a bit magic’ to describe my teaching and that it would always be memorable.
I know I’m tired and emotional but I think he just broke me.
It’s embarrassing sitting at your work desk crying. A good thing I had an office to myself this year. I’ll have to get used to having someone else in there too next year.
Step 1: No crying at my desk.
But it’s true that we do remember people that we label ‘magic’. We don’t ever forget them. They stand out because they’re different and have something special about them.
And it’s true that when some people talk, magic happens. If they’re in the church, it can often mean that God has his hand on them for a significant calling.
A few days back I reflected on Zechariah and Elizabeth, the parents of John the Baptist. Potentially the reason why they had to wait so long for a child was because the child they would give birth to, had a significant calling. The angel explains to Zechariah:
Then an angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was startled and was gripped with fear. But the angel said to him:
“Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John. He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He is never to take wine or other fermented drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even before he is born. He will bring back many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous—to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”
John the Baptist had a significant calling that we remember every Christmas.
The phrase ‘joy and delight’ sounds a bit like magic, but notice another descriptive phrase used: he will be filled with the Holy Spirit.
That could well be the key. For at exactly the right time he came preaching repentance to those needing to do just that.
And not just to a few, to ‘many’.
Only a person empowered by the Holy Spirit can help people turn their lives around to the way that God wants them to be, because only God’s Spirit can do that for anyone.
For you and for me.
So if we’re praying for people to come to church at Christmas, let’s pray for the Spirit to keep them open to changing, even turning their entire lives around. That’s how the magic works.
Yours remembering the magic,
Alison
