“Angels don’t sing,” my friend said to me. I was rather surprised, given the assumption of so many Christian hymns (especially at Christmas) that picture the angels in full-throated song. “No,” he went on. “The Bible doesn’t say that the angels sing—not even over Bethlehem when Jesus was born. They give praise and they say things. It doesn’t say they sing. And even in Revelation, the angels make speeches with a loud voice, but it’s the twenty-four elders (Rev. 5:9–10) and the victorious redeemed (15:3–4) who sing songs. Singing is for humans, not angels.”

I’ve never checked his theory to see if there’s anywhere in the Bible where angels are specifically said to sing. Perhaps an angel might drop by and let me know. But I agree with my friend’s main point: singing is a distinctively human thing. Birds might disagree, but then we’re talking about songs with words. (Sorry, birds—we still love your singing.) And singing is especially a biblical thing, in the sense that it has always been deeply part of Jewish and Christian worship and culture.

Indeed, singing is commanded! How many times do the psalmists tell us to “Sing to the Lord!” And how many times do they respond with an enthusiastic, “I will sing … !” Clearly, God knew that His wonderful gifts of music, poetry and song would not only enhance all human life on earth in infinitely creative ways but would also serve to teach truth, enrich worship, accompany all our emotions and, above all, celebrate God’s own saving love and grace.

Singing accompanies the best and the worst of times. Isaiah sounds an Advent note when he envisages the joyful singing of the redeemed in the new creation.

And the ransomed of the LORD shall return and come to Zion with singing;
everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy,
and sorrow and sighing shall flee away (Isaiah 35:10, ESV).

Jesus and His disciples sang a hymn as they trudged out to Gethsemane in those last hours before His betrayal, trial and crucifixion (Matthew 26:30). Since they had just eaten the Passover meal, this would have been the traditional “Hallel”— some of Psalms 113–118. The arrival of the gospel in Europe began with two prisoners, chained up after a Roman flogging in Philippi, singing! “About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them” (Acts 16:25).

And what better time to sing than when we travel through Advent to the joy of the incarnation. No wonder there are so many Christmas hymns and carols going back centuries, just a few of which inspire each of the meditations in this book.

I used to think that the best Christian singers on earth were Africans, having enjoyed the rhythmic vitality and spontaneous harmonies of their worship. And then I went to teach a Langham Preaching seminar in Vanuatu. I could hardly believe what happened after someone strummed a few chords on a guitar: a huge swell of voices in multiple harmonies from these towering Melanesian Pacific Islanders raised the tin roof, louder than the pounding rain. I want to hear them again in the new creation!

Whether the angels will join in, we’ll have to wait and see.