(even if you aren't a churchgoer....the best free
show in town tonight is at your local large church)
http://www.womensenews.com/article.cfm/dyn/aid/2119 "For unto us a child is born, unto us, a son is given," washed over us. I looked up toward the vaulted ceiling, pulled my grandson tight to my chest and felt an enormous sense of gratitude for the moment of all-consuming joy, of having the experience of holding a brilliant and beautiful grandson in the magnificent cathedral during such an overpowering performance of the Messiah.
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The moment was one of ultimate happiness and thankfulness. And yet, and yet, I could not help but rewrite the lyrics to myself, as the choristers continued the refrain, hearing as I did the singers' voices express a particular ecstasy during the phrase "a son is given."
I have heard no equivalent in sacred music, one that hailed the birth of a girl, not even one like my granddaughter, ensconced on her mother's lap one row away, a 3 year old who whispered during the concert that she wanted to practice her spelling words.
Around the world, girls face the threat of violence, are victims of infanticide, denied healthcare, kept out of school, forced into sexual relations and married without consent, as Joan Holmes, president of The Hunger Project, wrote last week for Women's eNews. My granddaughter will surely go to school and will not experience the worst of gender bias. Yet, at that moment in the cathedral, I remembered Holmes' words, confirmed as they are by what our journalists report each day.
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Silently, I sang, thinking of my granddaughter on her mother's lap: "For unto us, a child is born, a girl is given: and her name shall be called WONDERFUL, COUNSELOR." Fearing sacrilege, I could go no further, not even in my imagination.