Christmas is an occasion to remember, and we all need opportunities to remember. We celebrate anniversaries and birthdays and gotcha days to recall important days in our lives, and celebrate the lives of those we honor or the paths we've traveled since that day. It's an important human function to commemorate. I think that might be why Luke tells us twice, Mary locked away the memories of Jesus' birth and His youth, deep within her heart.
I have a favorite holiday memory. My son was, maybe, eight-years old. We had been visiting family in South Philly, and dared not leave the area without a visit to one of the local bakeries. Having completed that ceremony, we stopped for coffee to prepare for the ride home. An elderly woman stood outside the store, shivering in the blustery cold. Steven begged me to give her the blanket from the trunk. As I opened the lid, he saw the rolls we'd just purchased. "Can we give her some of these, too?" I saw my son's heart that day, so kind and gentle; but so vulnerable to anyone who wanted to take advantage.
Mary had given birth to the King of kings, the Messiah, the Lord of all lords. But to the mother in her, He was Jesus, her little boy. How she must have feared for Him! In His kindness, in His gentleness, she had to have known there would be those who would take advantage of Him. She had to have yearned to keep Him close to her forever, to protect His innocence from those who would plot evil against Him. To watch Him grow and begin His ministry, healing and lavishing love on the "greatest of sinners", while the vipers stood closely by, waiting to shame and devour Him -- how her heart must have ached!
But, in her pain, in the darkest of days, she would remember. She would remember the shepherds arriving dirty from the field and out of breath from their haste, eager to see that which the Lord had made known to them. She would remember the wonder on their faces, and the excitement coursing throughout Bethlehem and the surrounding regions, as the shepherds testified to what they had seen. She would remember the fear she felt as, twelve years later, she and Joseph searched frantically through crowded streets for her boy. She would remember the words He spoke, and smile with understanding so many years later. He was so wise and confident, this child of hers, but He was His Father's Son. He had only wanted to help, to save them and teach them about the One who had sent Him. All the good He did sprung from a heart that served His Father and truly loved others.
And how they would repay this boy of hers. A man, now in His thirties, but still a boy to His mother. Hanging from a tree, condemned to death for truth, for love. Why didn't He defend Himself? Why didn't all of heaven come to save Him? But in the space of three days, she would come to know. In the space of three days she would come to remember her son in a new way. By bread and wine. Not just her son, but her Savior.
This Christmas, remember. Teach your children that being good is right, but being truly kind and gentle toward others comes from a heart filled with love, the love of Christ our Savior and Lord.
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