Midnight Clear

 

Many of us can sing the opening line, “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear,” to the hymn of the same name, only to have our voice trail off, or revert to humming the remainder of the song.

So I took some time this morning to read the lyrics in full, and was amazed at the portrait drawn there, one I had never visualized before:

Angels arriving through cloven skies, bending near the earth with wings unfurled—hovering—all the while singing and touching their harps of gold.

What a majestic, unobservable picture!

And while one could have a discourse long into the night regarding angels, one can, at minimum, metaphorically grasp the calm reassurance such an image holds for a “weary world.”

But perhaps one would have to actually become weary in order to appreciate the atmospheric possibility of rejoicing; to willingly forgo the modus operandi of being sick and tired. 

Perhaps one would have to first acknowledge that being disgruntled much of the time with things one can’t control is not a very productive way to live out one's precious days.

What if we could begin instead to “see” angelic grace and calm fortitude, to the point where fed-upness melts away? 

What if we let our guard down, not just with one heavenly guardian, but the whole lot of them; an innumerable choir, a multitude, an un-armed legion of them—they that come “swiftly on the wing” to sing over the earth’s “Babel” of “sounds!”

What if we allowed—invited—angels to sing over (drown out) our own babel, from our very own mouth?

Believe in them or not, can we believe in what they herald: relief, contentment, inner quietness, goodwill, unsentimental and non-politicized hope?

Can we imagine, angel or no, the symbolism of them breaking into our world for real?

We can close our eyes and bring these celestial beings to life, letting them alight on our souls so that our lips lay down their diatribes and our hearts surrender their haughty offense.

Maybe we can’t believe in actual divine spirits with feathered appendages.

But can we buy-into what they represent?

And if we do believe in angels, can we receive their ministrations and spread their message--one directly dispatched to us “from heaven’s all gracious King” Himself?

Tonight, envision the angels, with wings spread—over your worst enemy, all of your regrets and multiple worries. Be reminded also as they resound memories of joy. 

Feel their movement in the air, the strength and vitality in their presence, the glory of their song, and the midnight of their clarity into humanity’s attainable “glad and golden hours.”

Copyright Barb Harwood