The Twelfth Day of Christmas
05/01/16 04:58
It is always interesting to observe new parents with their children. 2015 was a year with many births in our congregation and the response to those births took on many different forms. Some new families, reveling in the intimacy and joy of the new person stayed at home for weeks. I suspect that some of them were afraid of the many different viruses and infections that seem to run around the community every year, trying to keep those precious young infants isolated from potential harm and disease. But there is more going on that fear of infection. There is a delightful joy in just being family. A newborn is fascinating enough to entertain and just watching a baby is enough to make one want to do more of it. In today’s busy world, families are often going from one thing to another and the coming of a new baby is a wonderful opportunity to slow down and stay home.
Other young families are out and about with their children as soon as they are born, bringing them to church the first or second Sunday of their lives, allowing us to pass them around during the fellowship hour, delighting in our joy at the arrival of the new ones. There are a few babies in our church that my first opportunity to hold the child is at their baptism. Others have become at home in my arms before the day of celebration.
I was thinking of the many differences in how families react to their children as I have been pondering these twelve days of Christmas. Because no matter how you measure it, no matter how you count the day or weeks or months or years, the truth is that our children are not “ours.” They come into this world and into our homes for a little while. Being a parent is primarily missionary work. We prepare our children to go out into the world and to make their own contributions to the lives of others. They develop their own style of independence and discover their own way in the world. And the journeys of our children often take them a long way from us. None of this changes the closeness we feel to them. None of this makes us love then any less intensely or passionately. But every parent realizes at some point that the lives of their children stretch beyond the reach of the parents. It is the way of the world.
So we come to the end of the 12 days of Christmas - the days of keeping the Christ child to ourselves and our own small community. Of course we know that Christianity has now reached every country on the globe and there are millions of others celebrating in their own way in their own places. But the celebration of Christmas is often a quiet and intimate time of getting to know, once again, the depth of God’s love and the power of incarnation - God with us in the form of a child. Then the twelfth day come and we remember once again that the Christ child comes to the whole world. We cannot keep this good news - this precious child - to ourselves. Our faith exists to be shared. Sharing outside of our immediate community is part of the natural course of events.
The good news of the Christ child is simply too good to keep to oneself.
Epiphany is, in part, the celebration of the acknowledgement of the coming of the messiah beyond the immediacy of the Jewish community. Gentiles, too recognize the child. The savior came to the whole world, not just to a single religion, a single ethnic group, a single family. And no matter how quiet and humble the circumstances of the birth were, pretty soon the wise men from the East come and it become apparent that the news of this birth will not be kept secret or private.
Christmas is a delicious, joyous, and wonderful season and it is coming to its own end. The real work of Christmas - sharing the good news with others - is just beginning as we take down the decorations and prepare for the next season. Epiphany will rush by quickly. Ash Wednesday comes early this year, on February 10. Before we have time to adjust to the season of light, we will fall headlong into our time of preparation.
It is a reminder of how short and precious a single human life really is. The time passes and we soon enter into eternity. Focusing on the shortness of life, however, is seldom the way to live fully. Dwelling in the present without undue regret of the past or fear of the future is the vocation of all who would draw close to God.
In my own life, I’m not sure how it came to pass so quickly that I have become a family elder - the patriarch of a small clan - the grandpa who doesn’t always keep up with the fast-paced action of the grandchildren. I don’t remember growing old. I simply lived.
Our life of faith can also seem a bit fast-paced. We celebrate communion and peak of Jesus death during every season of the Church year, including Christmas. Even as we marvel at the baby in the manger, we foreshadow his suffering and death. The journey from Christmas to Good Friday always seems like a whirlwind of moving too quickly even after having traveled that road every year for a lifetime.
Tomorrow is the feast of Epiphany and we’ll be gathering as a church family to remind people of all ages of the joy of following the star to discover what it is that God has to show us.
But for today, I am just a little bit like the new fathers and mothers with their new babies who are in no rush to get out into the world. They are content to stay at home and watch and marvel at the miracle in their midst. They know that the child will soon grow out of infancy and before long take steps on journeys that lead them far from home, but for a few days it is enough to just enjoy the presence of the infant.
On this last day of Christmas, may you find time to simply marvel at the miracle.
Other young families are out and about with their children as soon as they are born, bringing them to church the first or second Sunday of their lives, allowing us to pass them around during the fellowship hour, delighting in our joy at the arrival of the new ones. There are a few babies in our church that my first opportunity to hold the child is at their baptism. Others have become at home in my arms before the day of celebration.
I was thinking of the many differences in how families react to their children as I have been pondering these twelve days of Christmas. Because no matter how you measure it, no matter how you count the day or weeks or months or years, the truth is that our children are not “ours.” They come into this world and into our homes for a little while. Being a parent is primarily missionary work. We prepare our children to go out into the world and to make their own contributions to the lives of others. They develop their own style of independence and discover their own way in the world. And the journeys of our children often take them a long way from us. None of this changes the closeness we feel to them. None of this makes us love then any less intensely or passionately. But every parent realizes at some point that the lives of their children stretch beyond the reach of the parents. It is the way of the world.
So we come to the end of the 12 days of Christmas - the days of keeping the Christ child to ourselves and our own small community. Of course we know that Christianity has now reached every country on the globe and there are millions of others celebrating in their own way in their own places. But the celebration of Christmas is often a quiet and intimate time of getting to know, once again, the depth of God’s love and the power of incarnation - God with us in the form of a child. Then the twelfth day come and we remember once again that the Christ child comes to the whole world. We cannot keep this good news - this precious child - to ourselves. Our faith exists to be shared. Sharing outside of our immediate community is part of the natural course of events.
The good news of the Christ child is simply too good to keep to oneself.
Epiphany is, in part, the celebration of the acknowledgement of the coming of the messiah beyond the immediacy of the Jewish community. Gentiles, too recognize the child. The savior came to the whole world, not just to a single religion, a single ethnic group, a single family. And no matter how quiet and humble the circumstances of the birth were, pretty soon the wise men from the East come and it become apparent that the news of this birth will not be kept secret or private.
Christmas is a delicious, joyous, and wonderful season and it is coming to its own end. The real work of Christmas - sharing the good news with others - is just beginning as we take down the decorations and prepare for the next season. Epiphany will rush by quickly. Ash Wednesday comes early this year, on February 10. Before we have time to adjust to the season of light, we will fall headlong into our time of preparation.
It is a reminder of how short and precious a single human life really is. The time passes and we soon enter into eternity. Focusing on the shortness of life, however, is seldom the way to live fully. Dwelling in the present without undue regret of the past or fear of the future is the vocation of all who would draw close to God.
In my own life, I’m not sure how it came to pass so quickly that I have become a family elder - the patriarch of a small clan - the grandpa who doesn’t always keep up with the fast-paced action of the grandchildren. I don’t remember growing old. I simply lived.
Our life of faith can also seem a bit fast-paced. We celebrate communion and peak of Jesus death during every season of the Church year, including Christmas. Even as we marvel at the baby in the manger, we foreshadow his suffering and death. The journey from Christmas to Good Friday always seems like a whirlwind of moving too quickly even after having traveled that road every year for a lifetime.
Tomorrow is the feast of Epiphany and we’ll be gathering as a church family to remind people of all ages of the joy of following the star to discover what it is that God has to show us.
But for today, I am just a little bit like the new fathers and mothers with their new babies who are in no rush to get out into the world. They are content to stay at home and watch and marvel at the miracle in their midst. They know that the child will soon grow out of infancy and before long take steps on journeys that lead them far from home, but for a few days it is enough to just enjoy the presence of the infant.
On this last day of Christmas, may you find time to simply marvel at the miracle.