Many people can’t wait for Christmas to come because they get to sing Christmas carols. It’s their favourite form of public singing. Why? Apart from the familiar tunes, it is because the sentiments of the carols make life seem meaningful. They draw people together around themes such as peace on earth, joy in the world, and celebration. But is this just the crowd-effect in action?

Perhaps, like singing choruses at the rugby, the power of the carols simply derives from mass singing. After all, we know that when you get people together in a room, and let them open up their lungs, before long they have their arms around each other, beaming faces and commitments of undying devotion. The crowd effect is very powerful.

But I think there’s more going on. Rugby songs don’t always bring about happy, healthy crowd behavior. I’m yet to see a brawl break out at a carol service! It’s not only the power of public singing, but also the nature of the lyrics, that make Christmas carols so popular and such a force for good. And those words are often drawn from the Bible.

My favourite carol, and I know I’m not alone here, is ‘Hark! the Herald Angels Sing’. It swells wonderfully, demanding the singer to reach higher notes as each verse proceeds. It uses poetic devices such as repetition to great effect (“Born to raise the sons of earth! Born to give us second birth!”). But the real power is in the cosmic hope that the lyrics offer.

We are used to hearing about the ‘newborn King’ at Christmas. The story of Jesus’ birth is less well-known now than ever before, but many people still recognise that the wise men came to worship Jesus as if he were a King. It’s a potent idea: that a ruler will be provided for the nation. We still love it when a royal pregnancy is announced (yes, even Republicans will admit to a tear in the eye). The Christmas carol offers us this same pleasure, but increases the stakes: the newborn King here has arrived directly from heaven.

‘Hark!  the Herald Angels Sing’ casts a vision of connection between heaven and earth, elevating us, as we sit on our picnic rugs in shorts and thongs, to consider that life may be grander, more wonderful, and more spiritual than we first thought.1

By the time we have reached the dramatic, triumphant conclusion of the fifth verse, we have covered some magnificent territory:

• We have sung about the hope for “peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinner reconciled”, a vision of harmony not just on earth but also between the earth dwellers and their Creator;
• We have sung the astonishing words, “Veiled in flesh the Godhead see; hail the incarnate Deity”. This is the unique claim of Christianity, that Jesus embodies the Divine; in Jesus, we see God;
• We have sung the wonderful image ‘risen with healing in his wings’. This is a quote from Malachi 4:2, and it captures the idea of Jesus’ resurrection (an Easter idea, really). Just the thought of Jesus as a glorious bird, whose wings shadow you with healing and hope, sends shivers down my back.

All of this is the grand meaning that is attached by believers to the birth of Jesus in the little town of Bethlehem back in the first century. It’s what makes Christmas carols special.

The Bible, whatever form it comes in—sung in Christmas carols, read aloud in church, listened to on a smart phone, even read as a book—has great power to move us. We just need to stop and realise what we are singing.

This month’s column is drawn from Greg’s new book, The Great Bible Swindle, available from bookstores and shop.biblesociety.org.au.