"Treasure and Ponder"

          Whew! We made it--Christmas Eve. How’s the time before Christmas been for you? Hectic? Fun? Some difficult things going on in your life? Some joyous things too? What’ve you been thinking? What’s been on your mind this Christmas? There’s a lot to consider.

          What did Mary think? We know the story. What did Mary think after a hard journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. After having to have the baby Jesus in a manager. After the visit of the shepherds who told her about angels proclaiming her baby as Savior, the Messiah, the Lord. After other people were “amazed at what the shepherds told them.” What was on Mary’s mind after all this, and how did she react?

          Luke says, “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” Can we imagine Mary then? Some of the people around her were amazed. Others were busy glorifying and praising God. 

          But Mary’s response was different. She thought very carefully about what had happened. Mary clung to this precious news as a treasure. She struggled with what it all meant. “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”

          I was listening to National Public Radio one day, and a minister who had terminal esophageal cancer was being interviewed. He talked about meeting people who said they did not believe in God. His gentle and inquisitive response to those people was unforgettable for me. He said to them, “Tell me about the God you don’t believe in. Chances are, I don’t believe in that God either.” (The Rev. Forrest Church, interviewed on NPR, Dec. 22, 2008) 

          “Tell me about the God you don’t believe in. Chances are, I  don’t believe in that God  either.” Mary did not jump around and shout platitudes. “My kid’s better than your kid!” She did not holler threats at nonbelievers. “You better get right with my son, or else.” She did not relax into an easy-going acceptance. “Oh. My son is Savior, the Messiah, the Lord. Isn’t that nice?” No. There was too much said and too much happening for Mary to take it all in and to figure it all out. As someone has said, “Mysteries to be known must be entered into . . . For we do not solve mysteries; we enter into them. The deeper we enter them, the more illumination we get. Still greater depths are revealed to us the further we go.” (Diogenes Allen, quoted by Peter J. Gomes, The Good Book: Reading the Bible with Mind and Heart, 328.) Mary entered into the mystery with so much at stake–her son! What did all the words about him mean? What did all the things that had happened mean? “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.”

          Besides our praising and glorifying God, maybe you and I could do some treasuring and pondering about  Jesus and his birth. Maybe we could join Mary in asking why God has acted in such an outlandish way.

          I mean, if you were God, the Eternal, the Great I AM, the One who was, and is, and is to be, how would you get a message to humanity? How would you communicate your  expectations and your love to these creatures made in your image? What language would you use? What sign would you give?

          Barbara Brown Taylor says, “Once, when he was too ill to preach, Saint Francis simply stood before his congregation–mute–and gazed on them with love.” (Barbara Brown Taylor, When God is Silent, 117.) Is that what Jesus’ birth is all about? God says, “I’m sick with love for you. So, enough talking--in the birth of my Son, I’ll just gaze on you with love.” Is that what the birth of Jesus is about?

          Or is Jesus’ birth about finding the right language for us to hear? I remember when I was a first-year seminary student way back around 1987. One of our New Testament professors was a thirty-something-year-old rising star named Peter Lampe. Peter was a genius, but also a kind, humble, and gentle man who had come from his homeland in Germany to teach future pastors and scholars in the United States. Everybody in our class loved him, but, of course, he was still a long way from home. And I imagine he was lonely at times. One of the students in the class came up with an idea. We secretly met and learned a hymn. Then, at the end of the last class before winter final exams, we told Peter we had a surprise gift for him. We stood together and began to sing “Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht”–Silent Night sung in German. And Peter’s eyes filled with tears as he heard this sacred song sung in the language of his home. Is that what Jesus’ birth means? God singing to us in the language of our home?

          Or is there even another way to see it? The way that children sometimes surprise us with the Word of God? Presbyterian writer Frederick Buechner says, “A friend of mine told me about a Christmas pageant he took part in once as the rector of an Episcopalian church somewhere. The manger was down in front at the chancel steps where it always was. Mary was there in a blue mantle and Joseph in a cotton beard. The wise men were there with a handful of shepherds, and of course in the midst of them all the Christ child was there, lying in the straw. The nativity story was read aloud by my friend with carols sung at the appropriate places, and all went like clockwork until it came time for the arrival of the angels of the heavenly host . . . the children of the congregation, . . . robed in white and scattered throughout the pews with their parents.

          “At the right moment they were supposed to come forward and gather around the manger saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will among [all],’ and that is just what they did . . . [except the area was so crowded] a little girl about nine years old who was smaller than most of them, ended up so far out on the fringes of things that not even by craning her neck and standing on tiptoe could she see what was going on. ‘Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, good will among [all],’ they all sang on cue, and then in the momentary pause that followed, the small girl electrified the entire church by crying out in a voice shrill with irritation and frustration and enormous sadness at having her view blocked, ‘Let Jesus show!’

          “There was a lot of the service still to go, but my friend the rector said that one of the best things he ever did . . . was to end everything precisely there. ‘Let Jesus show!’ the child cried out, and while the congregation was still sitting in stunned silence, he pronounced the benediction, and everybody filed out of the church with those unforgettable words ringing in their ears.” (Frederick Buechner in The Christian Century, April 4, 2006, 28.)

          This Christmas in the midst of all our hustle and bustle, our joys and sorrows,

we’re invited with Mary to stop for a moment to treasure and to ponder the birth of

the Christ child. God beckons us to enter the holy mystery. And then as this year and

all the years go by, may God also answer us the prayer that is finally our deepest,

richest, truest prayer. “Let Jesus show.” Amen.