For Unto Us
Yesterday, while making sugar cookies, I reached for Christmas music. I almost always start with traditional hymns. O Come O Come Emmanuel was first, as it often is. It is, perhaps, my favorite of them all. But it fell short this time.
I needed Handel’s Messiah.
I learned early what excellence looks, feels, and tastes like through the professional choir of my youth—what it requires. Not every performance carries it. Nor is it always necessary. But this time it was. So I searched for one that promised weight and discipline, and pressed play.
The conductor raised his arms and, after a moment of anticipatory stillness, marked the first beat. The room filled and I felt breath return to places I had forgotten were starving for it. Like resuscitation. Like remembering how to breathe again. In that moment, I was transported back on stage, something I must have done a million times in my youth, and lived the music.
Away we went until we reached For Unto Us A Child Is Born.
For unto us a child is born, 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.
Isaiah 9:6, KJV
It is through this declarative text, bolstered by Handel’s interpretation and its rich promise, that we begin to grab hold of the Savior. The One who restores our breath and sustains it. We would be remiss this Christmas if we did not shift our focus to the presence and strength of the One who came for us. I encourage you to sit with Isaiah 9:6 and hold its authoritative majesty against the tiny package in which He came: a baby.
Even still, the weight rests where it always has—on His shoulders. For unto us a child is born.
