There is little mirth in the world today, and especially closer to home in my beloved Gotham. The word "merry" seems very out of place this year.
So it is with a heavy heart I go to sing in the celebrations to welcome the Word Made Flesh, the Son of God by Name, to the world. The juxtaposition of this Holy Night against man's inhumanity to man that seems like a bad movie plot right now. Or a twisted Twitter trope: Baby Jesus, YOU HAD ONE JOB: PRINCE OF PEACE. (Ok, bad theology, but feeling frustrated and disillusioned with the human race He came to save.)
For those who enter these churches, I am glad that they will find beauty in the music by some of the city's finest musicians. And sometimes small contributions, to specific individuals within your reach, is all you have.
Isaiah 9:6, and later, Handel
For unto us a Child is born,
unto us
a Son is given:
unto us
a Son is given
and the government shall be upon His shoulder:
and His name shall be called
Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.
(painting: Pieter Bruegel the Elder)
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