Anticipation and Gratitude

 

Advent for me has typically been a reflective season of anticipation.  This year feels different.  It’s a reflective time, to be sure, but it feels more like a season of perspective than one of anticipation.  Like everyone else I know, 2020 caught me off guard.  The Gospel I read today is Matthew’s account of the time that Joseph learns that Mary is pregnant (Matthew 1:18-25).  Joseph had to have been caught off guard when he learned this news.  From Joseph’s perspective, Mary must have been with another man.  When we’re caught off guard, it’s easy to lose perspective, to see things narrowly, and to be closed off to possibility or alternatives.  It’s easy to become afraid when we feel confused, hurt, betrayed, angry or embarrassed. 

I think for most people, the decorated tree is a way to keep Advent and anticipation of Christmas Day in mind.  For me, it’s the creche.  The Nativity creche in our house sets on a dresser next to my favorite spot in the house, the recliner.  It’s the perfect spot, because I can just turn to my right and be reminded of Advent and anticipation of Christmas.  The Nativity scene is a source of great comfort to me, especially this year.  After reading Matthew’s Gospel today, I glanced over to the crib where the baby Jesus is in the manger.  (Yes, we traditionally place the baby in the crib when the rest of the set goes up, because “why not”?).     

Seeing Jesus in the crib today brought tears to my eyes.   The tears of gratitude flow from the realization that He chose to experience our life; "he was like us in all things." (Hebrews 4:15).  Children on Christmas day usually connect with Him immediately when they see Him as the "baby Jesus."   Those of us who have several years under our belts usually approach Him a little differently.  Our stage of life finds some of us looking back with a loving smile.  But then we need to move on. 

The question He asked the disciples seems right to the point: "Who do you say that I am?"  (Matthew 16:15).  For me as an adult it’s an awareness through the years of my deepening friendship with Him.   There certainly were moments of dealing with the truth of what that friendship is all about and feeling I wasn’t carrying my part of the load.  I wish I could erase some things.  These 67-year-old eyes have also known the tears of sorrow.  For me, thanks to the guidance I received from my parents, I feel as though I’ve had a continual reaching out in love to Jesus, as well to all my brothers and sisters and lastly, to myself.  So there’s nothing wrong with the love and tears that I experience at the celebration of His birth so wonder-filled.

What keeps coming back to me again and again is the fact that my/our salvation could have taken place at the very moment of His birth.  But, no, He continued living, teaching, healing, forgiving, and loving us.  "You shall call His name Jesus, because he will save His people from their sins."   What a joy it is to picture myself holding Him as a little precious infant in my arms.  The truth is that His love led Him to die on the cross out of love for us… for me.  And now, the embrace, the hug that I receive comes from Him who chose to keep the marks of His love in His hands and feet and side.  I hope this explains where the tears came from as I meditated on His birth and the confidence and hope that it brings to me, even in the midst of all our current woes.