Christmas Eve

 Lots of us are happy this day and into the night.  It is Christmas Eve.  New baby.  Happy  Shepherds.  Mom and Dad beaming.  Angels singing good music.  And the churches go all out to decorate.  But beneath all this glitz and joy, I recall the image in my religious tradition of the heart surrounded by thorns.  Love can hurt and does hurt.  Mary and Joseph are outsiders in the suburbs of Jerusalem, Bethlehem.  They are like hicks from Nazareth, red necks, think the hollars of Appalachia.  They are in untidy and unsanitary conditions in a barn with animals.  No nice comfy bed for the baby or themselves.  And they will be on the run soon after because the word got back to the rulers that someone special was born.  And the rulers don’t control this someone.  So, I enjoy this Christmas Eve but always try to keep in the background, Good Friday.  Why?  So that I will be loving when the thorny time comes and I am not so happy.  Love isn’t all about me.