Silent night ... holy night ...
The Nativity of Christ is frequently presented to us as a silent thing, and even I’ve referred to it as such. In some long-ago piece, I describe it being “as if God had put His hand over the wails and sobs of a suffering world and said, ‘Sshh, it will be all right...’”
But of course, Christ’s coming was no silent affair. Between the bells of the shepherds and the angelic songs of the heralds, between the braying animals and the crackle of the veil being rent, all around, how could it be? The night was certainly holy, but it likely wasn’t silent.
After the trials and tribulations of a tough year, after what for some has been a time of trauma and tragedy, we know something of the event to come – the event that signals all the hope there is, all the hope that has been hiding in our hearts for far too long.