"Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful"

We "come and adore" in many ways

Every Christmas Eve my siblings and I used to put on a live nativity for our parents, an audience of two. We spent most of our practice time running around the house, dredging up old costumes or articles of clothing that could pass as costumes. Because of all the last-minute preparations, we rarely had time to actually rehearse the play. So, although we always used the same Luke 2 narrative, ad-libbing and other elements of surprise livened up the show from year to year. 

For instance, one year my brother Mark played the role of innkeeper at every door, repeatedly rejecting Mary and Joseph by using different accents and varying amounts of gruffness (and quite a bit of humor) until he finally offered a stable. For several years, when our ranks swelled with in-laws and grandchildren, we had shepherds aplenty, and we could afford to put family members in minor roles such as sheep. One of my older sisters would usually cast herself in the coveted role of an angel while several others made up the heavenly host, donning white sheets and tinsel halos. As a young girl, I was often the star, silent but smiling through a hole cut in the middle of a cardboard star spray-painted gold.

To some extent, nativity roles are still evident in today’s Christmas celebrations. My sister pointed this out to me many years ago when she and her family moved across the country to the East Coast for a short time. They had always been accustomed to worshiping the newborn Babe among faithful but poor “shepherds” who had little to give besides their adoration. However, in their new location that year she noted they lived among generous “wise men” who gave much of their time and material wealth to others.

Delivering a baby in the month of December was not something I planned, but 17 years ago this coming December 20^th I gave birth to our son Grant. Surprisingly, that pregnancy and delivery turned out to be one of the most special and sacred experiences of my life. During that time, my thoughts often turned to Mary and how she might have felt carrying the Son of God but was unable to rejoice publicly with others about the pregnancy. Her cousin Elizabeth seems to have been the only person with whom she openly shared her joy. 

When I held Grant for the first time, I couldn’t help but think of the private musings Mary must have had while holding her baby close and safe, knowing full well that one day even her fierce mother love would not be enough to protect Him from his enemies’ cruelty. She must have cherished those tender times with Jesus when, as a child, He needed her, yet knowing she would one day need Him to save her as well as all of us.

When a child is born, it is common and even customary for others to “come and adore” that newborn child. Upon seeing and holding an infant, we wonder anew at the miracle of life. Such poignant feelings must have been magnified among all those present on that first Christmas as they beheld the Christ Child who would become their Savior, the Savior of the world. Did the innkeeper peek outside, curious why so many shepherds had left their fields to come to his stable? Were the angels allowed to hover and marvel even after their songs ended? And what about Joseph? Did he quietly but firmly insist on keeping Jesus swaddled, clean, and protected from the cold? Was he the lone person to attend to Mary’s recovery after she delivered? Did he hesitantly leave her side to find nourishment for her? Did he and Mary long for a quiet, private moment together?

Just as during that original Nativity, today many “faithful” come and adore Jesus Christ each Christmas, all of us playing our unrehearsed parts. From moment to moment throughout the season, my personal approach to that adoration changes. At times I want to sing with “choirs of angels,” uniting my thrill and excitement with others; at other times I want to thank God more privately and quietly for the Savior, as Mary must have; and sometimes I want to buy the finest of gifts to show my love and appreciation, as the wise men once did. 

However we choose to draw near to Jesus, this season is the privileged time for all of us as “citizens of heav’n above” to come, to feel both joy and triumph because the Savior was born to conquer death and sin.