Worth a Listen: 7 Incredible, Non-Traditional Christmas Songs

At this time of year, the airwaves are jammed with tried-and-true holiday favorites. We love to hear Bing crooning about a “White Christmas,” Burl Ives wishing everyone “A Holly Jolly Christmas,” and Josh Groban giving a chills-inducing rendition of “O Holy Night.” Every year new songs are added to the Christmas playlist, but many are simply covers of old songs. What about the truly unique songs—ones that recapture the reason for the season? Here are some of my favorite non-traditional Christmas songs.

This album is an independent release partnering three extremely talented artists. Full of unique arrangements, the album does its fair tribute to the traditional Christmas canon—but adds a few twists of its own. “Born to Bleed” is one of them. The song has an Easter perspective on Christmas, reminding us that the whole reason Jesus was born was so that He might die for our sins. It certainly ignores the usual warm, fuzzy feel of standard Christmas tunes, replacing it with a solemnity befitting Christ’s mission. The lone acoustic guitar well represents the loneliness of His purpose. It is a beautiful, haunting song that, instead of inspiring visions of silver and gold, evokes a profound sense of gratefulness.

This contemporary Christian girls group has been making music for a long time, and A Christmas Story was their first of four holiday releases. Among renditions of the more well-known hymns—“Angels We Have Heard on High,” “O Holy Night,” “The Coventry Carol”—are some wonderfully new songs, including this one. “Not That Far From Bethlehem” takes us back to the lonely road between Nazareth and Bethlehem, with Joseph comforting a tired Mary that their destination really isn’t that far away. The second verse brings it home to us: that although 2,000 years have gone by, if we love Jesus we’re still “not that far from Bethlehem.” The sentiment always makes me cry—and will always be true, whether we’re talking 2,000 years ago or 2,000 years from now.

What list of Christian-targeted music would be complete without some Southern Gospel? This group, founded by Ernie Haase, is astoundingly talented, full of an energy that infuses every song they sing (or write). Their first Christmas album contains many new favorites, including “Glory to God in the Highest” and “Is it Christmas Yet?”, but for me, the most meaningful is “Come Make a Place in Me.” It echoes the first verse of “Joy to the World,” which calls for “every heart [to] prepare Him room.” In beautiful four-part harmony, the men invite Jesus to make a place in our hearts the way He made a place in the hearts and arms of Mary and Joseph that night so long ago. It takes the usual joyful—but distant—sentiments and makes them personal and relevant.

While most of the rest of this album is the fun, funky Big Band–style music fans know and love, “Born Tonight” is a quieter, more ethereal, haunting song, with moments from “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” blended into the fabric. It recalls the “miracle and the mystery” of the birth of Christ, asking us to “hush for a moment” and listen for the heartbeat of the baby. The song is a call to slow down in the midst of a busy, harried season, to really listen and hear the Good News Jesus brought. Sandwiched between a scat-wonderful rendition of “Little Drummer Boy” and a swingin’ version of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” “Born Tonight” is itself a perfect time to sit down, take a deep breath, and remember.

This song also appeared on Joy, Bebo’s collaboration with Ed Cash and Allen Levi. Little changed in the two incarnations, which I think is appropriate—it’s unlikely that Mary’s prayer would have changed much in nine years. It is, essentially, a lullaby; one that Mary, if she had been given visions of her baby’s future, might have sung to the infant Jesus. It looks ahead to miracles, to the Good News, and to salvation. It’s a song of comfort, of love, and of peace, though it foresees that His life on Earth will not be peaceful. You can almost picture Mary, tired herself, singing this song gently over her sleeping baby’s swaddled form. Like “Born to Bleed,” it reminds us that Jesus’ arrival on Earth was a brief moment of joy before the pain of His rejection, suffering and death. Nevertheless, it is a beautiful song.

We return to this album for a double-dip, and I promise it’s worth it. Continuing the theme of returning, in our mind’s eye, to the very scene of Christ’s birth, “One King” recalls the journey of the Magi to a little house in Bethlehem, following the miraculous star that led them all the way from their homes in the East to visit a baby. Though it has been pointed out many times that there probably were not three of them (likely more), this song uses the “We Three Kings” imagery to draw a much more important point: however many Magi were in the caravan, the number of kings present was actually one more—the baby Himself. The song recognizes that there were kings presenting each of the mentioned gifts (gold, frankincense, and myrrh), but then reminds us about the fourth King—the one who “held the hope of the world.” Indeed, the greatest Christmas gift was not what Persian seers presented to Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, but what the baby offered us all.

“Mary’s Song” may be the most well-known song on this list, but, lacking the punch and pep of many other tunes, it still isn’t really mainstream. Amy Grant is not the only artist to record this song, but her version was the first I heard. It comes from the perspective of the pregnant, teenage Mary, scared and lonely and afraid that somehow a mistake has been made in her situation. She is desperate and tired, and in need of assurance that everything is the way God intended it. The song is a prayer, and though the specific circumstance has only happened once in all of history, the lyrics can, in many places, be applied to the rest of us. Sometimes God calls us to missions that are daunting, scary, lonely, or otherwise less than desirable, and we need to be held together by the “Breath of Heaven” that is our biggest and only comfort. It is important to remember that while we celebrate Jesus’ birth now, his mother endured derision, scorn, and isolation for what we perceive as her biggest blessing. Her road was cold and weary and lonely, as ours often feels.