Why am I here?

If you were asked to explain your life and history from beginning to the present... what would it look like? A leather bound tome? A paperback romance? A coffee table book filled with exotic photographs? Mine would be a soundtrack. Rock anthems to elevator classics. Country crooners to Praise. Every memory has a melody.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Google, O Holy Night, and the Fifth Beatle

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QDgSQiUcVnM

Quite the title, don't you think?


Today my sister posted a video of David Phelps singing O Holy Night. If you have never heard his powerful voice and high notes, this is the perfect song to be your introduction to him. He is quite the talent and I love that he uses his voice to sing praises and glorify our God. But, (Don't you love when there is a "but"?) as I was listening to it today I realized as good as this was it was not my favorite version of this epic song. Can an artist really be faulted for being too good? Too clean? Too technically sound?

O Holy Night is such a standard it has been recorded thousands of times. Something about the simple words that paint such a beautiful picture of the night God became man makes it resonate with so many people. When it is done well it can move me to tears. "A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!" I love the hope it reminds me of. I love how in the midst of holiday chaos this song brings me right back to the point. So, why don't I love Phelps's sensational version?

I went to Google and went searching for what I remembered as my favorite O Holy Night. John Berry. He had a few radio hits on the country charts in the late 80's, early 90's. It was sweet and simple. It was a whole octave below Phelps. It was good. I do still love it. But now my curiosity was piqued. What do other people think is the best version of O Holy Night? So, I Googled that.

Oh Boy. I spent the next hour listening to the same song performed in so many different ways it did not sound like the same song. Of course there were the Mariah's and Celine's. Ugh. Vocal Olympics set to Christmas music. I am not a fan. There were the Il Divo's and the Pavarotti's. Wow. There was Jessica Simpson. Seriously. Who else could take a song about the birth of Christ and make it about them?

The sweet hymn has rung from the spires of grand cathedrals, brought down the curtain at Carnegie Hall, and entertained past presidents at the White House Christmas Celebrations. There were shaky videos of little girls at church taking on a song that is too big for them. It was like watching them dress up in their mother's dress.

Six pages into my search I came across a video from some TV show I have never seen. It looks like it was filmed in the late 1970's... maybe a little later. Sitting at a piano is Aretha Franklin and Billy Preston. Aretha has been known to be a diva, for sure. But not on this night. She shares the piano bench with Billy and never even stands up. Her eyes are closed most of the song. Is it perfect? No. Nor is it technical. It isn't even a good recording. But it is passionate. Both vocally, and somehow musically.

And isn't that all that God asks of us in worship? Passion. I don't have to hit the high notes. I don't have to stay on key. Carnegie Hall, my church, or even in my car. Location does not matter. What matters is He is worthy and I know it, and I sing with all I have to show Him that I know it.

Now I am not knocking those who effortlessly pull off beautiful, soaring musical masterpieces. But something in me responds to the slightly edgier one. The one I can sink my teeth into. The one I can sing along with and not feel like I am messing it up!

Merry Christmas!

1 comment:

  1. !!!!!I did this same thing today!!!!

    I bet I listened to a hundred different takes on the sweet song. Chandler will say a thousand, I'm sure.

    What's funny is I sang my guts out this morning. I cried and did all those things I told you about, and in the end, posted the one with the message in the beginning. Something about, "Lord, when someone calls me for help, please don't let them have the wrong number," gripped my heart.

    Anyway, on most days, I agree with you. There's something about the shaky voice of a woman who can't hold back worshipful tears, or a man whose emotions choke his perfect pitch. It reminds me that even my voice is pleasing to the Lord.

    I'm grateful that you and I aren't the only ones with an affinity for the 'messed up!'

    I love you!

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