Holy Night on a Farm

Many years ago, when I was a teenager living on my parents’ farm in the mountains of Vermont, I took a walk. A very slow and peaceful walk on a December evening with fat snowflakes drifting silently down, giving a sense of serenity to the dark night. As I followed a path through a field close to the barn, I looked up and stopped in my tracks at the sight before me. A sight I’d seen many times, but at that moment I was almost speechless.

Our sheep were kept in a space carved out of the cellar of our 200-year-old barn. The walls of this space were lined with massive boulders, giving it the appearance and feel of a cave. A light was on and the sheep were milling around, contentedly munching on the hay my Dad had just fed them. I felt as if I was looking in on the scene from the Gospel of Luke. If I had walked closer, I imagined I surely would have seen a young mother wrapping her new baby and laying him gently down in a feeding trough while her husband stood behind her, protectively watching. The moment was so holy, I stood rooted to the spot and simply drank it in. I have never forgotten that holy night on a farm in Vermont.

More than a century earlier, a poet in a small village in France was asked by the local priest to write a poem for their Christmas mass. Since he was not a regular church attendee, Placide Cappeau de Roquemaure felt inadequate to the task. So, he read Luke’s account and imagined he was there on that holy night, witnessing for himself the birth of the Savior of the world. What followed were the words of “O Holy Night”. Music was added later and eventually the song made its way to America and was translated into the song we now sing.

                                O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining;

                        It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth!

                        Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

                        Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

                        A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices,

                        For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

                        Chorus:

                        Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!

                        O night divine, O night when Christ was born!

                        O night, O holy night, O night divine!

“Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.”

The soul felt its worth! Only in Christ will your soul feel its worth.

Come to Him. Bask in His love. Realize your worth.