For decades, friends and I have enjoyed a treasured ritual of attending the Christmas concert at a nearby public university. The concert lasts for two hours with the last 60 minutes devoted to a cantata of sacred music. The experiences have been unspeakably powerful so much so that the audience is asked to hold the applause at the end to sustain our reverence and assimilation of the Christmas message. Different ones of us have been moved to tears as we rose from our seats in the packed hall. Unfailingly, we are also gripped by the radiance of the students’ faces and the light in their eyes even though not all of them are of the Christian faith. There is something transcendent in their singing beyond gifted vocal chords and perfect harmonies.
The scriptures today present us with songs that tumble forth from people to whom God pledged deliverance from oppression, unimaginable fruitfulness, God’s own faithfulness, and God’s participation in our individual and collective lives.
Micah extols the vision of a people—forgotten, downtrodden, and wayward—to be restored in triumph through a kingship of righteousness, justice and peace. 
The responsorial psalm and Paul’s letter to the Hebrews remind us that what God desires is not unaffordable sacrifice to satisfy rituals imposed from the outside. The people are to turn to God, pay attention to God’s message that they are worthy and loved, and let divine grace sanctify their lives.
Bursting in songs of praise and deep gratitude are Mary and Elizabeth, both totally overtaken by God’s actions in their lives. One pregnancy ends the scourge of barrenness, while the other moves beyond illegitimacy and impossibility to play the central role in birthing the savior for all times and all people. They sang not from their achievements, but from the presence of the Lord who loves, forgives, redeems, and renews them, and acts in tangible ways to fulfill the divine promise. 
We too have our favorite songs and carols. We sing along with words that form automatically on our lips with memories of and nostalgia for seasons past. Yet, do the words have power over us: are we gripped by Emmanuel—God with us? Is Isaiah’s vision of turning swords into plowshares and lions and lambs reposing in peace simply poetry with no purchase on the fears that spawn our competitiveness, selfishness, violence, and divisiveness?