For Wilshire Baptist Church
While waiting for a meeting to begin, I was listening to music on my iPhone and heard “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” by Elvin Bishop, a personal favorite from the 1970s, and Paul McCartney’s “Alligator” from just a few years ago. And sandwiched right between the two was a Kurt Kaiser arrangement of “Gesu Bambino.”
I keep cuts from Kaiser’s “Christmas Favorites” album in my shuffle mix year-round because it’s just great music. It’s mostly piano with some light orchestration and it’s timeless – seasonless. When I hear it, I don’t think, “Oh, that’s Christmas and it doesn’t belong.” I let it play, even during Lent.
And why is it that we squeeze Christmas and Easter down to thin seasons every year and turn our backs on them otherwise? Aren’t they more than holidays to be observed? Aren’t they stories that should be lived? Aren’t they the stories that define who we are and how we relate in the world?
But I get it: Too much of a constant thing – even a good thing – can become rote or make us numb to its significance. Christmas music all the time? No, not nonstop throughout the year, but why not a little sprinkled here and there, especially good stuff like Kaiser? And besides, Easter has no Top 40, so why not a little Christmas during Lent because that’s where the Easter story begins. And it doesn’t really end at Easter. It goes on through the highs and lows of our lives — on those giddy days when we discover we’ve fooled around and fallen in love, and on those gristly days when we can’t seem to tame our alligators.
It’s doubtful McCartney was thinking about Easter when he wrote “Alligator,” but when I heard it this time I had on my Easter ears because they had been perked up by my Christmas ears, and my imagination – or was it the Holy Spirit? – made some connections in a few of the lines:
I want someone who can save me
When I come home from the zoo.
I need somebody who’s a sweet communicator
I can give my alligator to.
I want someone who can bail me
When I get up to my tricks.
I need somebody used to dealing with a sinner
Whenever I get in a fix.
Everybody else busy doing better than me.
And I can see why it is,
They’ve got someone setting them free,
Someone breaking the chains,
Someone letting them be.
Could you be that person for me?
Would you feel right setting me free?
Could you dare to find my key?