That first Christmas, there was joy. There was wonder and awe and salvation.
There was also sadness. Christ’s coming meant peace on Earth, but it was not immediate.
That first Christmas also held devastation. Mary’s joy was the joy of a new mother, a joy made infinitely more full as the mother of the Christ child. Her joy would become our joy, for centuries to come.
But there were others that would mourn that year, as another king of Israel sought to interrupt God’s place for peace on Earth. Other mothers welcoming new babes and unable to raise them.
: We sang that night as we had never sung before. Those shepherds believed they were the primary audience. True, they were important—the Mighty One has always favored the lowly. But there was much going on that night.
The other reason we sang in the fields was to hallow the ground where Rachel would weep over her sons. There the graves would be dug, the graves for the little boys of Bethlehem. Herod’s rage soon stripped dozens of firstborns from the breasts that nursed them. Those so fresh from God, so quickly silenced. Slaughtered like animals. So much blood.
The town had no room for Mary, as Herod’s heart had no room for another king. He would not share his glory. He would destroy this threat if he had to go through all the firstborns in the kingdom. Although we do not exist in time, there are moments when the affairs of earth are hard to endure. Even angels desire vengeance…
And so we sang: Glory to God in the heavenly heights, Peace to all men and women on earth who please Him. And Gabriel said, “Again, louder.” We sang again.
What the shepherds heard as an anthem, the innocents would hear as a lullaby. We sang as we had never sung before. A song to bring Him into the world, a song to guide them safely from it, and a song to help her endure it…”
– An Angel
As I sink into carrying merry and bright with me into the new year, I am reminded to pause and to remember, as well.
