Reflection—v.8, ‘…nearby, shepherds were living in the fields…’
With the exception of three years, I have always gone to church with my family on Christmas Eve. I get to do my hair and consider wearing heels. We look at the huge, stunning, and tastefully decorated tree, hung with chrismons, and lift our candles high as we sing Silent Night. To be perfectly honest, I love it. I leave Atlanta–and the streets–to be there. But I cannot help but feel a tug that Christmas should be different than just keeping traditions for tradition-sake. After all, the angel’s announcement of prophecy fulfilled did not take place in the Temple but in the fields to those who worked into the wee hours of the night, living outside. The angels sang to those who were labeled unclean and worked on the Sabbath and despised by their more well-off neighbors as little more than ‘liars and thieves.’ As much as tradition comforts me, I cannot help but think I am missing out on being where Christ himself chooses to dwell.
Prayer God of shepherds keeping watch in the night, lead my heart to long for the place where you choose to dwell with us.