an Advent meditation on Luke 2:1-8
In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.
This season often seems one of constant movement, doesn’t it?
So many things to do, so little time to do them all.
Parties to attend, gifts to buy, people to see, performances to prepare for, places to travel, schedules to pay close attention to.
It can be a joyful race all that movement, but even when done in joy the end result can be quite tiring. And sometimes even while necessary, that go, go, go approach can leave us missing out on a thing or two about what really makes this time special.
The very first Christmas was a sort of “Go, Go. Go” mad dash of an event, too though.
Think about all the hustle and bustle required of Mary and Joseph in a time when there was no Expedia to book your tickets, no gas station every couple of exits to stretch your legs, and fuel your donkey, no iPhone GPS to tell you how to get from Nazareth to Bethlehem without having to go through Atlanta or hitting all those toll roads!
And as bad as the crowds may get at the Summitt or Galleria, they must have paled in comparison to the mad rush in Bethlehem that led to a no vacancy sign in ever inn save the one that happened to have a manger in the back.
And yet as we think about that Christmas, as we think about seasons past and seasons yet to come, we feel a moment when time seems to stop; when go, go, go, gives way to still, still, still, still.
That’s the moment of course when the baby is born—which as we know is a mad dash all in and of itself. But it’s a different sort of dash, too, one which actually invites us to put aside the frenetic pace we keep so often in this and many other times, and instead stop and pay attention in ways far deeper than we ever thought we could. really can fade, and a deep and abiding peace can begin to take hold.
Because a baby, if nothing else, demands our attention. Demands we alter our movements and concentrate not just on what’s straight ahead but also on what’s all around.
And this baby Jesus demands something even a bit more—demands that we put aside every other thing that occupies our hearts and instead focus on the joy, love and peace of his heart, which this baby promises to deliver to the world.
In the process, we are invited to remember that while life in this world necessitates a certain amount of go, go, go, the most important things, the deep things, the precious things, call for us to pause, to relish the moment, to be still, still, still, and know that we are mortal, that God is God, and that God’s love and grace are to be enjoyed, appreciated, and shared everywhere the journeys of the season take us.
My goal therefore for this Advent season is to accept that invitation and to slow down a little bit more. To be at peace a little bit more. If that means I’m a little late to the party, or have to stand in the checkout line a little longer, or spend an extra moment or two stretching my legs at each rest stop—so be it.
For those times of stillness are also opportunities to hum along to a piece of music, or to be aware of the people around me, or to hear the laughter of children or the cry of a baby and be reminded of the love of God that comes to us in surprising ways, of God’s grace which changes the world, of God’s peace which stills our hearts and our steps and fills us with the light of hope.
May that same peace be with you in all your going and yet grant you stillness when it is needed most. Amen.
Mighty God, as we move through this advent season guide our steps and calm our hearts so that we may also learn to pause and recognize your goodness filling up our lives and our world. Amen.