Tonight is our annual Christmas Night at our farm. Caroling around a bonfire, moonlit hayrides, cookies and hot apple cider. We usually have around two hundred people stop by for the evening. It’s a fun tradition, a pleasant resting spot on the road to Christmas, and we’ve been hosting it now for about ten years. Traditions are important, and doubly so around the holidays. Otherwise, our years blur by in a rush of necessity, paying bills and sameness. Blink, and the years are gone, with nothing much to show for them, other than greying hair and a thickening waistline. Traditions give us pause to breathe and reflect on why certain things are important and should be remembered.
I consider such remembrance doubly important during the Christmas season, because, whether one believes the story of Mary, Joseph and Jesus or not, it is difficult to deny the blunt reality that so much of history has swung upon the tiny fulcrum of the baby in the manger.