The Darkness of Christmas Morn

Blessings upon all of your holiday seasons, be it Hanukkah, Christmas, or the Solstice. I am an observer of the Christ-mass and mark the turning of the year through the Winter Solstice with the fire of a Yule log or two. And while I certainly make merry, it was a more silent contemplative holy day that I sought this year.

I was compelled to go out into the early darkness on Christmas morning, before the first feeding of our livestock, to sit with the sheep and read to them the Christmas story from Luke chapter 2. Now if you’re wondering to yourself “By God is she in her cups before dawn!?” The answer is no. But it’s a good story, and there are shepherds, which means there are sheep, and I thought the sheep would be pretty keen to hear the part they played in all this messy business of God poking about.

It’s a common story of poor people being shuffled around in order to obtain proper documentation, and then having to flee to save the life of their child. I promise you that ancient story played out again this year on Christmas Eve, and the night before, and the night before that, in Gaza, Ukraine, a south Texas border town – take your pick of every unfolding ongoing human calamity at this moment – I promise you there was a child born under great duress to a family having to flee in the darkness.

But where there is darkness there is also wonder, and there is still a heavenly host calling us to pay attention, inviting us to ponder deeply in our own hearts why there are still defiant young mothers on the run with their babes, who know the value of their children’s lives, and who have the audacity to point to some heavenly host announcing the good news that everyone belongs. Can you hear it? Can you hear it?

Christmas blessings to you all. May your days be filled with signs and wonders.