I sat in the 2nd row pew of church and tried to “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” over the crying baby in the row behind and my thoughts wandered to the angelic choirs, Hallelujah choruses drifting between stars like spun sugar to shepherds. Then I wondered: are there angels at every child’s birth? Not just the ones with smiling parents, but those greeted with heartache as well, leftovers of broken love, whose lives may not last longer than the ten minutes of their screaming breath, ringing in the ears of an unwilling mother. And those children brushed by war’s shrapnel, are angels heralding their births as well?
And if they do sing, what is the aria that welcomes a child? Does it hide them from our world? It must be a variation of that “Song of Redeeming Love” that we have felt before, a carol of grace that is “mighty to save” for His name’s sake, the reverent psalm that announced the Christ child’s birth, the last strains of the celestial before mortal eyes open.
It’s the song of heavenly hosts on Bethlehem’s silent night, when all of us fell on our knees and beheld our king, He that was born to give us our second birth, or rather another chance to hear the angels on high repeat what was once sung in royal David’s city.
edit- Spun, not spilled or powdered sugar.