I readily admit that one of my favorite parts of Christmas is the music, especially the carols.

For a long time, it seemed like my favorite changed each year. But “Joy to the World,” by Isaac Watts and Lowell Mason, has seemed to occupy that position for a while now.

One of my early “favorites” was “The First Noel.”

A “noel,” according to the online Merriam-Webster dictionary, is “a Christmas carol.” It defines “carol” as “an old round dance with singing,” a “song of joy or mirth” or a “popular song or ballad of religious joy.” But today’s column has more to do with singing than dancing.

Interestingly, though the word “noel” comes from the French, it can actually be traced back to a Latin word, “natalis,” having to do with birth. Hence, what we call Christmas carols are joyful songs referencing a specific birth celebrated every year at Christmas time. That’s not to say Jesus Christ was born on December 25; the precise date of his birth is unknown. So, a Christmas carol is a song celebrating the fact that he was born — and the reason for it, rather than a specific date.

Many beloved carols hearken back to what really was the “first noel,” the angel’s announcement to the shepherds watching their sheep in the fields near Bethlehem: “I bring you good news of great joy, which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a savior, who is Christ the Lord,” the 2nd chapter of the Gospel of Luke says.

The city of (King) David that the angel spoke of was Bethlehem, referred to by another carol, “Once in Royal David’s City.” Old Testament prophecy said the Messiah would be born in the “city of David.” Before Jesus was born there, Bethlehem was the birthplace of the son of Jesse who became King David.

To be born there was one of the proofs of the savior’s true identity.

The herald (messenger) angel had more to tell the shepherds: “This will be a sign for you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

Then — “suddenly,” the record in Luke says, “there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God …” But the time came for the angels to go back into heaven.

RAPID RESPONSE

I am intrigued by how the shepherds responded to the astonishing experience. They could have sat staring up into the sky, unable to put into words what they were thinking, and feeling. And how many shepherds were there, anyway? We don’t know. But we do know it was more than one — so they knew it wasn’t just a dream, or their imagination.

Moreover, it sounds like they weren’t about to let moss grow under their feet while they decided what to do next. “Let us go straight to Bethlehem then and see this thing that has happened which the Lord has made known to us,” they decided. “So they came in a hurry,” Luke’s account notes.

They “found their way to Mary and Joseph, and the baby as he lay in the manger,” Luke continues. Then, “when they had seen this, they made known the statement which had been told them about this child.”

Who did they make it known to? It sounds like it may well have been every person they encountered: “And all who heard it wondered at the things which were told them by the shepherds.”

I’m also intrigued when I imagine the shepherds who were actually part of this historic account. I would guess they ultimately went back to their sheep in the fields. (Was one left behind to watch the sheep while the others were away?)

And as the days, the weeks, the months and the years went by, did they talk to other people about what they’d seen and heard and experienced?

I wish I could have known them and had the opportunity to sit and listen to their account of that extraordinary night. “What did the herald angel look like?” I know I would have asked. And I’d have begged for a full description. “Tell me everything,” I’d have entreated them.

Oh, but that would have been just the beginning. I would then have had myriad questions about the baby Messiah and wanted nothing less than a full report, perhaps over and over again. “Did you touch him?” I know I’d have asked. “Did he look at you? What did the grownups say?”

And I guess I was a reporter for too long and listened to too many stories of people’s amazing experiences not to want to imagine how the last shepherd alive would have still tried to put into words what it was all like that night.

But most of all, I’d want to know if any of them were still alive 33 years later. And did they ever again see the one who had been that baby in the manger?

That’s when the interview would really get intriguing …

Tommi Halvorsen Gatlin is a retired reporter, who still contributes to The Vidette. Contact her by emailing the editor at editor@thevidette.com