My Love Affair With Handel's "Messiah"

Twenty-five Years and Counting

Twenty-five years ago this month, I attended my first performance of Handel’s “Messiah” at the Kennedy Center in Washington DC. My date that day was my then recently acquired girlfriend of one month, who would two years later go on to commit great acts of violence against my tender affections, but that is for another day. I was vaguely aware of the work as any reasonably curious person would be, but I was without any sense of what the experience was or would be like. I was urged to dress appropriately (as one does), and we Metro’d over to Foggy Bottom and walked from there to the performance. The Kennedy Center Concert Hall is a wonderful venue, and I remember feeling very grown up, which for a man of 32 ought not to have been notable. And although I was unprepared for the performance’s length, at its conclusion I was hooked. In the 25 years since, I have experienced at least as many performances, some live, and some YouTube, but always at least one each Christmas Season.

Taking in the performance yesterday

Yesterday, I attended the 1300 hrs performance at the Kennedy Center with my friend of 39 years Rob, who I only earlier this fall discovered also harbored great affection for the oratorio. We were at a UVA Football game, and somehow got on the subject of The Messiah, during which Rob offered that he too was a big fan. I decided on the spot that Rob and I would henceforth annually meet for a performance, and yesterday’s event was the first iteration of that declaration.

What is it about “Messiah” that evokes such loyalty (in me at least)? The answer is simple. When I hear it, I am as close to God as I imagine any human can possibly be.

My relationship with the Divine is rather uncomplicated, or at least uncomplicated as I see it. I am certain that God exists, and that God is that which there is no greater than. God is both omnipresent and omnipotent. From here, things begin to get a little cloudy, as the whole appearance of Jesus and His dying for our sins adds considerable complication to my understanding. But—and this is the part that is wholly unsatisfying for some—since I cannot know the Mind of God without being God, I suppose the ministry of a Man-God walking among us 2000 years ago is as suitable a basis for belief as any. It is this impossibility (of knowing God’s mind) that is the basis of my respect and acceptance of myriad belief systems.

People close to me are less comfortable with my approach to God, and my pitiful attempts at backing up my beliefs leave them unsatisfied. Their lives marred by unspeakable evil, they are ready to accept God’s omnipresence, but not his omnipotence. After all, if He is a God of love, and He is possessed of omnipotence, how could He have allowed such evil in their lives? How does He continue to allow such evil in all of our lives?

This is not an original point, but that does little to diminish it. It is the question that has vexed (or should have vexed ) anyone who professes to Christianity. I am certain there are much better and more doctrinally correct answers to these questions than I provide, but I do not know them well, or if I have evaluated them, I have found them wanting. No, I respond to these people—that I simply do not know the answers to their questions. I do not know why He who there is no greater than, who is omnipresent and omnipotent, allows for great evil to exist. But more importantly, I cannot know. I cannot know the mind of God or His purposes. I only know that I have experienced the Hand of God in my life in ways of which I am certain, and I am certain that I do not face this life alone. I am troubled by that which troubles them, but my faith is not impacted by it. Don’t get me wrong, I can see clearly why they may look at my approach as naïve, or as some sort of Marxian opiate, but that’s where I am on this, I and I don’t see myself changing my mind.

That faith is not unchallenged, though. Evil in this world is all around us, and its pervasiveness builds throughout the year, besieging the walls of my faith like the forces of Saruman at Helm’s Deep. But then I hear “Messiah”, either in person or over my computer. If it is the latter, I clear the time necessary and devote myself entirely to its replay. And when I hear the Chorus in “For Unto Us a Child is Born”, I am spiritually recharged for another year. The walls of my faith are reinforced against what the next year may bring. God is there—with me. In that room. I am certain of it. When the Halleluiah Chorus is sung, I stand, either by myself or with the crowd, and I know that all around the world, people are doing the exact same thing. Standing at this point in the performance may be the ONLY practice I know of that is so universally shared among His people. I am with them, they are with me.

Yesterday, as Rob and I walked to the Metro after the performance, I said that there is injustice in the fact that every person on that stage—the conductor, the soloists, all of the instrumentalists in the orchestra, every voice in the chorus—every single one of them is better at what they are doing in that moment than I am in anything I do, and most of them are terribly undercompensated for their work. I am so grateful to them for three hours of spiritual recharge. I highly recommend it.

UVA Basketball Update

I was somewhat less filled with Christian love on Saturday as I watched my Hoos lose to Houston 69-61 before a sold-out UVA crowd. Coming into the game, we were #2 and they were #5, but we had not played well in a few games, and we were coming off exam-driven inactivity (at least as far as games go). Also, our best player was/is ailing. That said, there are some really concerning things about this team, specifically its consistency, its ability to play at a high level game after game. All of us got liquored up on wins against Baylor, Illinois, and Michigan—and some have concluded that going 3-1 against them (and Houston) is something that none of us would have found unacceptable two months ago as we looked ahead. I agree as far as two months ago is concerned—but that two months happened. We saw what they are capable of, and what they have fallen off from. So I do not share in the “win some, lose some, we’re in a great spot” moment—I am in the “what happened to the team I saw in Las Vegas?” moment. We head to Miami for a game Tuesday night and they are ranked. This game will reveal a lot about us.

Merry Christmas!

Not sure whether I’ll get to this next Monday or not, but in the interim, I wish all my readers who celebrate a Merry Christmas.