Going in Haste

I usually leave all the hurrying to my husband.

I would rather leave early and get there late than hurry to do anything.

But, there’s hurry in the Christmas story that was totally justified and just can’t be ignored. 

The shepherds were keeping watch over their sheep by night.

While they were diligently, methodically, but not hastily watching their sheep, an angel appeared with something important to say:

“Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people!”

The Good News was that the Savior had been born in a town not far away. The angel even told them what the baby was wearing and what kind of bed he had been placed in. 

Then, the whole heavenly choir appeared, and the shepherds still didn’t have to hurry as they listened to the world’s first (and finest) Christmas cantata. It must have been beautiful, but then, it abruptly ended.

What were the shepherds to do? Well, they hadn’t been expressly told to do anything. They could have remained in their peaceful state of non-hurry and talked over the angels’ singing, outfits, and news. But that would have been silly.

Instead, they hurried! They went in haste! They wanted to see what they had just heard about! 

What if the shepherds had not gone in haste? What if they had just stayed where they were, content to hear the Good News but not to go experience it for themselves? 

Years ago, my husband (who is a pastor) wanted to have a Christmas Eve service at our church. He wanted to keep it simple- just sing hymns together, light candles, pray, and go home. I resisted. Our children were little. Christmas Eve should be a family time. We had company from out of town. I didn’t want to hurry out of my Christmas Eve routine (or be pushed out of it either). 

I had a lot of excuses, but my husband really wanted to be at church, so I gave in. 

I did not hurry. I dragged my feet, our company, the babies, and my sour attitude to church, which was right next door.

Only two other people came- a woman and her daughter. We were such a small group that we were able to huddle around the keyboard with the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree and our candles reflecting in our eyes. 

We sang several hymns. By the time we got to Silent Night, I had come with haste to see the holy infant, tender and mild, and all was suddenly calm. I was in His presence.

As the woman and her daughter put on coats to go home from the service, she told me, “We don’t really have gifts or food this Christmas, but we wanted to come worship Jesus. That’s what it’s all about, right?” 

She was right. She had come with haste and was going in peace, like the shepherds on that first Christmas night.