Of Bears and Penguins

Day 2 of Advent - The Holy Family:

Are we all cozy now? Tucked well in for the night, windows shut against the cold, bellies warmed with some sturdy winter fare. Perhaps a pint of ale, or draught of wine nearby. Perhaps some handwork in your lap, or a puzzle before, and best of all to pass a winter eve - a story, a familiar one, one that we know by heart.

Bring a torch, Jeannette Isabella
Bring a torch, and quickly run
Christ is born, good folks of the village.
Christ is born, and Mary's calling,
"Ah, ah, beautiful is the mother,"
"Ah, ah, beautiful is her son."

I love that carol, it's lilting melody, the echo of the last two lines. The celebration of beauty, the hastening of hearts to Jesus. Somehow I hear the vunerability of Mary and Joseph, of their journey, and of the birth in the old song. It's there so clearly for me.

That vulnerability has been on my mind lately. All life seems so tender that it seems remarkable to me that we survive. So I imagine with compassion what it might have been like for Mary, little more than a girl, most likely younger than me seeing her life so clearly before her. And then the Angel appears:

"Greetings you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you."

And Luke mercifully records, "Mary was greatly troubled by his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be."

What a relief that she was troubled - I think any of us would be, then, "Do not be afraid..."

We get the annunciation, the greeting of Elizabeth and Mary's song, and it's so easy to think that that's all there was, but there was nine months of carrying a child for her, there was morning sickness and aches, there was the shame that must have been cast upon her from those who questioned her honor, there was surely a delicate relationship to work out with Joseph, even amidst and through the joy of being highly favored by the Lord.

And that final difficult journey - what did Mary and Joseph talk about? Did they talk at all? Were they grumpy and afraid? Were they tender and patient? Were they all those things?

And the birth, I think for Mary, and probably for Joseph too, must have felt like the final crucible of that whole experience from Angel to manager. Did Joseph feel ashamed that he could do no better for his betrothed and baby than a stable? Was he afraid for Mary? Was there anyone to help them through the birth?

I think that in that final great test, Mary's beauty must have become transcendent, as does the look of those who come through trials for the better and whole, and I think Joseph must have seemed his strongest and best, as do those who keep the faith through difficulty, and the babe in their arms, Ah, beautiful is the Son.

Who knows of Mary and Joseph stopped and looked at each other in all the noise and action, and said, "My God, has it come to pass?" Or if they were able in their weariness to grasp what the Shepherds understood - that in the bosom of the beautiful boy beat the heart of a Savior, beat, indeed the heart of God veiled in flesh. To think about it for a moment is like looking into the bright light - one can do it for a moment, but one has to look away, it's too much to take in at once.

That remarkable beauty, the admirable strength, the wonder of the child - I think that's what the Shepherds saw for a brief moment, and what Mary and Joseph felt for a brief moment. It was bright, and too big to take in all at once.

So Mary stored those things up in her heart, and thought over them. And the Shepherds who had hastened to the manager, sang their praise to the Almighty who gave the good gift, and the hope for all men and women, for all time.