It was a freezing cold evening, and the conductor was tapping his baton. We were ready for yet another rendition of ‘Hark The Herald Angels Sing’. I looked across to my trombone-playing friend Martin. He was definitely ready. The brass band that we’d been together in for years was performing one of its annual charity street concerts – which sounds pretty grand. In reality, this consisted of us spending our evenings playing Christmas carols under orange-glow street lights while volunteers knocked on doors collecting money for good causes. For Martin and me, though, there was an extra dimension that required exquisite preparation and composure. We were competing in the not-so-famous game of ‘who could play a brass instrument while simultaneously eating the most sweets’. With cheeks bulging like hamsters, we’d attempt to play through the carols and then announce to each other how many sweets we’d managed. Of course, there was no way of verifying the figures, but that didn’t seem to matter. It was just our childish way of livening up the evening.
Looking back, I’m surprised we didn’t drive our bandmaster Mr Williams to despair! In some people’s eyes, we were no doubt two annoying young teenage boys who weren’t taking the music seriously enough, potentially wrecking the reputation of the brass band. But somehow Mr Williams managed to graciously and patiently overlook our immaturity and focus instead on the reckless potential harboured within our mischievous characters.
I often find myself reflecting on this story, especially at Christmas. In fact, it’s actually one of my fondest childhood Christmas memories. And because I’m a believer that God works through our narratives, that He’s constantly shaping us for His glory, I’ve enjoyed mulling over and trying to discern what I can learn and apply from experiences like this.
The first thing I think about in this particular story is the fun of cultivating good friendships. I’m grateful for the people that God has brought into my life, and hope that I live in such a way that those people can be grateful to God for me too. As life progresses, I’ve come to recognise the different types and depths of friendships. Whether that’s acquaintances or colleagues, friends for a season or friends for life, we really do need each other. I’m also struck by the realisation that as my responsibilities grow, they should at least be matched by my commitment to growing strong relationships. I’m surprised by how often the burden of responsibility develops a life of its own, outgrowing our capacity to invest in friendships. This can’t be good for our wellbeing. We’re called to “carry one another’s burdens” (Galatians 6:2), not go it alone.
"As life progresses, I’ve come to recognise the different types and depths of friendships."
Years later, at another Christmas time, I bumped into Martin unexpectedly. For various reasons, our paths had diverged as we’d ‘matured’ into adulthood. However, as is often the case with certain types of friendships, we simply picked up where we had left off. And yes, we did indeed reminisce about playing Christmas carols in the brass band.
As my brass band story brings a smile to my face yet again, I can’t help but think of the gift of joy. It is, after all, one of the hallmarks of Advent, the season of “glad tidings and great joy” (Luke 2:10). Have you noticed that some people seem more blessed with joy than others? In preaching a sermon recently, I asked the congregation to shout out words which described how they were feeling in the run-up to Christmas. As you can imagine, the response was a mixed bag. Words ranged from ‘expectant’ to ‘tedious’, ‘excited’ to ‘terrified’. I could well have missed it, but I don’t remember anyone shouting out ‘joyful’.
Nehemiah (8:10) indicates that joy is in one way or another linked to strength found in God – it’s a strength we all need, more so perhaps as we navigate life in such an unsettled world. I think joyfulness is one of the X-factor characteristics of our faith. It’s a game changer in conversation, it adds value to our environment, and let’s not forget it’s evidence of the Spirit at work (Galatians 5:22). For sure, joyfulness may not always be forthcoming… but that’s probably not a good enough excuse for not trying to see more of it in our lives. The word ‘rejoice’ sounds like ‘joy’ for a reason, and when Paul urges us to “rejoice in the Lord always” (Philippians 4:4), perhaps he is handing us the means for accessing joyfulness more readily than we thought was possible.
Finally, I find myself drawn to our bandmaster Mr Williams. He wasn’t just committed to the music or the tradition; he was committed to us. He never charged a penny for teaching us music lessons. He would morph seamlessly into a taxi driver, ferrying us around to various performances and competitions. When it came to preparing to study music at university, it wasn’t an issue for him to provide extra tuition to ensure that I played the tenor horn to an acceptable standard. He was a great encourager. His kind actions spoke louder than words. He recognised the potential in everyone.
This Christmas, my prayer is that we will get better at recognising the God-given potential in others too. It goes deeper than that, though. It starts with us acknowledging the image of God in literally all humanity. We are children of God. Let’s encourage one another more. Let’s love one another more. So, as you reflect on times past in preparation for times ahead, may God’s grace be evident in all you encounter. May the rhythms of your life contain more glimpses of joy, more meaningful friendships, and a boldness that is both brave and kind.
He is my comfort during the holiday blues
Nicola Morrison shares how we can look to God when struggling with grief at Christmas
