Oh come, all ye faithful...

“Oh come, all ye faithful

Come let us adore Him

Oh sing hallelujah

Come let us adore him.”

As I walked towards the sanctuary this morning, these words echoed down the hall.  I parked my little Doona on the end of the row and gleefully unpacked the small, wide eyed girl it was carrying.  Singing as I lifted her up, smiling at her sweet face to see her smile at me in return.  Then back to these words, this beat as in the style of Hillsong and I instantly see Jesus in her sweet face.  Thoughts of those that flocked to see Him in that manger, thoughts of the pride Mary must have had circling in my head and heart.  Mary, what a moment that must have been for her.  I begin to chase the rabbit.  How full was her heart?  How full was her spirit?  How much did she know?  How much did she fully grasp?  

As a mother, I find myself pondering the thoughts and actions of Mary.  I mean, she was chosen to be the mother of the only Messiah.  She has to be a pretty good example of what to look up to and as a mother I find this trans-generational empathy from her to me and me to her.  I find myself wondering if her heart was conflicted?  Was it filled with joy in the birth of her baby but filled with worry as to what exactly her (Old) Testament teachings referred to in Isaiah.  Joseph had been given the vision to keep Mary as his wife and that their son would “save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:21).  Did he share that with her?  Did he boast in the great gift and task they have been given?  “Mary, he is the One!  The chosen One!  Our son is the Messiah!”  Or did he play it down with an “it’s cool, God’s got this and we’re good” kind of attitude as to not alarm his new young wife?  Had she told him of her visit from Gabriel who told her she would give birth to the son of the Most High and that he will reign forever?”  (Luke 1: 28-33)  Did they compare notes?  

 Did she realize this man Isaiah spoke of as lacking beauty, majesty, who would be despised, rejected, pierced and crushed (Isaiah 53:1-5) could possibly be the same face of that baby boy she stared into on that star-filled night as the shepherds gathered to simply see him and then to tell Mary of the things the angels had spoken to them. “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” (Luke 2:8-20)    

Here, gathered around the manger, I would like to think that the only thing in Mary’s heart was joy, an overflowing joy.  For the next three decades, her life would be filled with fret and anxiety and I’m sure worry wondering if they were doing “enough”. Simeon would tell her on that eighth day, “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.”  (Luke 2:34-35).  Imagine getting that good news.  She and Joseph had to flee King Herod’s killing of all babies heralded by the Wise Men.  (Matthew 2:1-21)  They had to raise a child who “grew and became strong in spirit, filled with wisdom; and (who had) the grace of God upon him.”  (Luke 2:40) And imagine her sunken heart after losing the Messiah.  Lance and I lost sight of Gabe one time at Hunter park for about 30 seconds when we turned our backs to load up the bikes.  He had traveled from the train to the swings.  In that 30 seconds, my brain played out every SVU/Criminal Minds child abduction scenario and that annoying voice kept repeating “worst parent ever.”  And there's Mary, losing Him for three days.  Three days!  Where’s the Messiah, Mary?  Where’s the boy God chose you to protect?  

(Side note, isn’t is amazing the parallels the Bible makes, the foreshadowing that we see?  When Jesus was simply 12 years, his family made a trip to Jerusalem for Passover.  After the 7 days of celebration, the family returns home.  But then they realize they have forgotten or you could even say forsaken as they abandoned and deserted him (not purposefully though).  And so they search for him and it is not until the 3rd day they find him.  Sound familiar?)     

Then when they find Him, I’m sure her face is tear stained, her eyes red from the crying from this sorrow and then they have to wrestle with all of these weird things He is saying and what would sound like straight sarcasm to my ears: “Why were you looking for me?  Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”  (Luke 2:49-50)   So there she is, I’m sure weeping as He has been lost for days and much like he tells Mary Magdalene on that third day outside of the tomb as she sat there weeping as she mourns not knowing where the body of Jesus has been taken, Jesus responds in this questioning way that many of us would see as having zero social norms or social awareness.  “Why are you looking?  Why are you crying?  Do you not know?”  (John 20:15) Then there is this wrestling of the unfolding of this personal relationship that is being recorded from the words of Jesus referring to God as His Father.  And Mary and Joseph are left struggling to figure out what this all means.  But Mary continued to ponder these things in her heart just as she did when the shepherds first came to her.  (Luke 2:51; 2:19) 

Then they continue to raise this young man and Mary, still not quite getting it, pleas for Him  to somehow correct the running out of wine in Cana.  She witnesses the first miracle but not after having probably what was another pondering conversation.  And then of course we come to Mary at the foot of the cross.  Picture her there weeping, filled with sorrow, love overflowing, understanding lacking as she watches her oldest son hanging from a cross.  In that moment, her world was crashing.  Yet, God proves to be faithful.

So, when I think of the birth of Jesus, when I think about Christmas morning, I like to think that her heart was filled with that same joy I felt as I pulled Cadence out of her seat and she greeted my smile with bright eyes and a smile that seems to sweep over her entire body simply because those next 33 years for Mary were filled with hate, fear, anguish and death that this mama can’t even begin to perceive.  

As we enter into this Advent season and we reflect and we look forward with much anticipation, we can remember that He is faithful and just like Mary we can adore Him, we can sing hallelujah.  

“Unfulfilled and fulfilled promise are related to each other, as are dawn and sunrise. Both are promise and in fact the same promise. If anywhere at all, then it is precisely in the light of the coming of Christ that faith has become Advent faith, the expectation of future revelation. But faith knows for whom and for what it is waiting. It is fulfilled faith because it lays hold on the fulfilled promise.” --Karl Barth

He has come, and he will come again. This is Advent.  

Thank you, Jesus, for always refocusing my heart on you.  This morning was filled with much angst as I wrestled with even attending service due to a hungry girl who nursed longer than normal.  But when I walked through those doors, you were speaking to me.  I heard you tell me that I was to write tonight.  Thank you for giving me the words, for mine would be nothing more than a blundering mess.  I thank you that you are faithful and I adore you.  My heart does sing hallelujah as I enter into not only Advent but this time of reflection and remembrance of Gideon in the coming days and months.  I thank you for the Hope.  I thank you for choosing Mary to show us this relationship.  We see Mary weep and Mary fret.  You know the heart of a mother and you show us that even the mother of God made mistakes, that even she didn't have it all put together.  I thank you for knowing me.  

Thank you, God, for happy, smiling babies.