Oh Holy Night

Christmas has always been one of my favorite holidays. I know, that is nothing unique, as I share that sentiment with millions of people around the world. One of the things that I love the most about Christmas are its traditions. Christmas traditions have always been a part of my upbringing, and they have always been something that brought me great comfort and joy (see what I did there?) throughout the holiday season.

When I was little, decorating the Christmas tree with my mom was one tradition I cherished. My mom would inevitably choose the biggest tree on the lot, and shove it in our house, barely saving the ceiling. The plastic would be cut away, and for the month of December we would have a tree viewing room rather than a living room…Okay, I’m exaggerating, but still, the philosophy here was, the bigger the better. I’m actually surprised we never had a Christmas Vacation moment with any squirrels in some of those trees- although we did have one one year when the tree was too big for its stand and it crashed to the floor one night… The trees became more toned down after that year.

On Christmas Eve, we had another set of traditions. One that I hold onto the most is going to Christmas Eve service with my grandma and my mom. 

We went to a very small church, one that is not even around anymore. Because of its size, we were able to successfully navigate the tradition I am about to tell you about, with no fire personnel standing by. 

As you walked into the sanctuary, you would be given a small white candle to hold. Then you would go find your favorite pew, sit down, and wait. Now this memory is a little faded, and I am sure there was a heartfelt sermon that was given, but I was most likely zoned out and drawing on my offering envelope while that was happening, so we’re skipping over that part. Regardless, even if there was a sermon it didn’t matter, because the true magic of the night was in the events that followed. 

Once everyone was settled, the acolytes would come and light the candles of the people at the edge of the aisles. One by one, those with lit candles would turn to light the candle of the person sitting next to them. As the candles were lit, the lights were turned down, and pretty soon the flickering candle light filled the room. The peaceful feel of that room, the dancing lights, the quiet calm, is something I yearn for each Christmas. 

Then, the music would start.

Now the church I went to did not have a band, or a screen that had the words to songs on it. No, my church had hymnals, bells, a choir, and an organ. But on Christmas, the only thing the congregation needed were its voices, because the songs we would sing were ones any Christmas lover would be familiar with. Away in a Manger, O Little Town of Bethlehem, Joy to the World,  and Silent Night filled the room. The sound sent chills down my spine, and touched what I believe was my very soul. The beauty of the lights, the sound of a hundred voices coming together, and the anticipation for what was to come, was enough to make even a nine year old get choked up from the beauty of it all. 

I can’t explain it, but the peace and fullness that I would leave church with that night would put Christmas into perspective for me, even as a child. Yes I was still excited for what was to come on Christmas morning, with its presents and stockings and candy and delicious food- but Christmas Eve reminded me of what had already come. A little baby who was sent here. For you. For me. For each one of us.

As I have grown up and had children of my own, Christmas traditions are something that I have tried to weave through the season, so that my kids could hold on to their memories like I have held onto mine. We decorate the tree together… just the ornaments though, I am very particular about my lights. We usually make some type of ornament together… this year was melted pony beads that turned out nothing like the Pinterest picture, so if you are one of the grandparents reading this don’t expect one this year. You're welcome. Each year we open a Christmas Eve gift that usually holds the makings for spending time together. Popcorn, candy, a movie or a game, and of course, Christmas pajamas. We look at Christmas lights, watch Christmas movies, listen to Christmas music- we try and do all the things. And we typically go to our church’s Christmas Eve service. 

The church I grew up in has been gone for around 15 years, so the candlelight services are no more. The church I go to now would probably not allow 300 burning flames in the sanctuary, no matter the occasion. But even without the candle light, they are able to bring each person in the room to their feet, singing the sweet songs of the season, while adding vocals and instruments that you can feel in your bones. I'm not going to lie- the singing in the crowd isn't always harmonious, but it is still one of the most beautiful sounds I look forward to hearing all year. 

Christmas Eve to me is one of the most special days of the year. Of course Christmas is a celebration of Jesus being born, beginning the journey that would ultimately lead to the forgiveness of each and every one of us, and the promise that there is more after life than we can even fathom. But Christmas Eve is a quiet reminder. A humbling story of a child who was born, shepherds who were visited by an angel proclaiming the news, and a star lighting the path to this new life. I can imagine Mary and Joseph in that barn- holding their sweet baby boy. The twinkling of the stars, the quiet calm of the night, the uncertainty they undoubtedly felt, and the love that overpowered any of their fears, which gave them the strength and hope to move forward.

The traditions they would come to practice from that moment on might not look like the modern traditions so many of us have created and hold dear. But hopefully, among our moments of holiday tradition and the hustle and bustle of the season, we search for a moment in the chaos to remember the reason behind our holiday celebrations. A reminder that through the darkest days there is still a light. A reminder that even though we might not fully understand what it all means, we were given the greatest gift of all on that Christmas so many years ago.

“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The Mighty God.”

Merry Christmas.