But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.Luke 2:19
This Advent is a different one for our family. Our second son was born mid-November. On the first Sunday of Advent, he was 11 days old. As the Christian church is preparing to celebrate the birth of the Christ child, we are adjusting to the birth of our own child. Rather than spending the weeks of Advent planning worship, attending a multitude of special events, and trying to squeeze in a few more visits to homebound church members, I am spending a great deal of time this Advent being still.
As I spend hours each day nursing and holding the baby, I sometimes think of Mary, caring for her newborn on that first Christmas without so many of the luxuries I take for granted. We have at least 5 different devices where our baby can sleep (pack and play, rock and play, car seat, etc.) Mary had only a manger, a feeding trough for the animals, in which to place her baby. We complain about our 3 bedroom house being too small to hold all the equipment we “need” for our children, while Jesus was born in an overcrowded inn, without even one room for his parents to call their own. We are spending most of our time at home, avoiding crowds to keep the baby healthy during flu season. Mary and Joseph didn’t have that option. Having a new baby this time of year has helped me reflect on the nativity story in a new way.
But the truth is, the different routines of a new baby have also been a bit disorienting. While I am so thankful for this time at home to focus on our family, there is a part of me that misses the “busyness” of Advent at church. The planning, organizing, leading, and preaching that come with being a minister during Advent have become such an integral part of my preparation for Christmas, that it feels odd to prepare for Christmas without those activities.
My hope is that I will be able to treasure this time and experience, as Mary did. I want to use the stillness of this season to reflect on Advent and Christmas not as church events that require my preparation, but as cosmic events that invite my celebration. It is a bit humbling to accept that the Christmas season at church goes on without me. Others will plan what I would have planned; others will do what I would have done. And Christmas will still come. Like many overachieving ministers, sometimes I forget that my leadership, preparation, and involvement is not required for Christ to enter into our world. This Advent season, I am reminded that my work is to be still, to treasure these things in my heart, and to let Jesus be the one and only Savior of the world.