Tag: christmas

By Ken Woodley

What a compelling reaction by Mary in Luke’s birth narrative as the  invisible snowflakes of grace fall all around her, shepherds recounting their encounter with angels.

“Do not be afraid,” Luke’s account states, because this is “good news for all people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”

Go to the manger to see for yourselves, the angels told the shepherds.

So they did and those listening to their story, Luke tells us, “were amazed.” 

But what of Mary? Her reaction deserves our full attention, a deep, silent and thoughtful response, as if she could see the footsteps of the Lord in those  unseen snowflakes of grace that began covering the world around the manger.

She “treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” Mary was clearly beginning a meditative journey about the deepest meaning of her son’s birth.

The angel Gabriel had sketched out the meaning when he’d visited Mary in Nazareth nine months earlier. You will give birth to a son, Gabriel had told her, conceived by the Holy Spirit, a son to be called Jesus. 

“He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David,” Gabriel had further explained, “and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will have no end.”

Mary’s reaction had often left me perplexed. Why did she need to ponder the shepherd’s words? Gabriel had made things clear to her. But then I reconsidered.

Anyone would be awash in wondering about an encounter with an angel. There may even have been times when she doubted her own understanding of what had happened. Could it have merely been a dream?

“The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever….”

Did that mean her son would some day become an earthly king, sitting upon an earthly throne?

The throne of David, after all, was very much an earthly throne and David was an earthly king.

Mary surely wondered about the precise meaning of those words. 

Nor was she alone in doing so. People have been pondering them ever since.

The question—like footprints in the snow—followed Jesus all of his life.

From his very first moments in this world to the final hours before his death—when Pilate asked him “Are you king of the Jews?”—people have wondered about the true meaning and message of his birth. 

In the end, each of us will decide for ourselves who this Jesus is in our lives and how that answer influences the way we see the world, what we see in each other, and how we see ourselves.  

And, crucially, the decisions we make in response to our answer.

We can choose to treasure the answering of that question in our hearts, and ponder it for a lifetime, joining Mary in a contemplative journey. If we choose that path, the nuances and subtleties of our answer will develop in different ways during our lifetime. A spiritual journey is organic, not static. 

There will be layers of understanding, flashes of clear insight—as if they were spoken to us by an angel—that may, at times, seem like an uncertain mirage or a dream when our daily lives intrude, pushing them to the side. We may also find that we return to previous understandings, but with deeper insight into them.

But if we treasure this and ponder it in our hearts, as Mary did, it can become both sustenance and light for our journey when we need it most.

The sun eventually melts even the deepest of snowfalls and every footstep taken through them disappears.

But not these footprints.

Because they are not left in the snow.

Every footstep we take on this journey is left firmly planted in the heart of our soul where the deepest meaning of Jesus’ birth is waiting to be born.

By Ken Woodley

What a compelling reaction by Mary in Luke’s birth narrative as the invisible snowflakes of grace fall all around her, shepherds recounting their encounter with angels.
“Do not be afraid,” Luke’s account states, because this is “good news for all people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”
Go to the manger to see for yourselves, the angels told the shepherds.
So they did and those listening to their story, Luke tells us, “were amazed.”
But what of Mary? Her reaction deserves our full attention, a deep, silent and thoughtful response, as if she could see the footsteps of the Lord in those unseen snowflakes of grace that began covering the world around the manger.
She “treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” Mary was clearly beginning a meditative journey about the deepest meaning of her son’s birth.
The angel Gabriel had sketched out the meaning when he’d visited Mary in Nazareth nine months earlier. You will give birth to a son, Gabriel had told her, conceived by the Holy Spirit, a son to be called Jesus.
“He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David,” Gabriel had further explained, “and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will have no end.”
Mary’s reaction had often left me perplexed. Why did she need to ponder the shepherd’s words? Gabriel had made things clear to her. But then I reconsidered.
Anyone would be awash in wondering about an encounter with an angel. There may even have been times when she doubted her own understanding of what had happened. Could it have merely been a dream?
“The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever….”
Did that mean her son would some day become an earthly king, sitting upon an earthly throne?
The throne of David, after all, was very much an earthly throne and David was an earthly king.
Mary surely wondered about the precise meaning of those words.
Nor was she alone in doing so. People have been pondering them ever since.
The question—like footprints in the snow—followed Jesus all of his life.
From his very first moments in this world to the final hours before his death—when Pilate asked him “Are you king of the Jews?”—people have wondered about the true meaning and message of his birth.
In the end, each of us will decide for ourselves who this Jesus is in our lives and how that answer influences they way we see the world, what we see in each other, and how we see ourselves.
And, crucially, the decisions we make in response to our answer.
We can choose to treasure the answering of that question in our hearts, and ponder it for a lifetime, joining Mary in a contemplative journey. If we choose that path, the nuances and subtleties of our answer will develop in different ways during our lifetime. A spiritual journey is organic, not static.
There will be layers of understanding, flashes of clear insight—as if they were spoken to us by an angel—that may, at times, seem like an uncertain mirage or a dream when our daily lives intrude, pushing them to the side. We may also find that we return to previous understandings, but with deeper insight into them.
But if we treasure this and ponder it in our hearts, as Mary did, it can become both sustenance and light for our journey when we need it most.
The sun eventually melts even the deepest of snowfalls and every footstep taken through them disappears.
But not these footprints.
Because they are not left in the snow.
Every footstep we take on this journey is left firmly planted in the heart of our soul where the deepest meaning of Jesus’ birth is waiting to be born.