Silent Night

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
‘Round yon virgin Mother and Child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace

I have spent a lot of this Christmas season wondering what it was like to be Mary bearing and giving birth to Jesus.  The Christmas carols make it seem so nice and cozy, perfect and hymnal. The Bible account of it, though perfect as is, seems to oversimplify the great feat of birth by saying things like “and she bore him a son.” Yet the God who created the birth process made it to be an incredible ordeal of death to self and surrender of every instinct to the raw call of the body. He created birth to be awash in blood and water, tears of pain and laughter of triumphant joy, and nothing about it makes me think of silent nights. But then, I wonder…

Was Mary’s pregnancy easy going (cultural damnation for pregnancy out of wedlock aside) or did she struggle with nausea, back pain, heartburn, or one of the other common maladies that come with pregnancy? Did she deliver at 39 or 40 weeks or did the blessed Lord Jesus make her wait? As she walked to Bethlehem alongside her husband, did her feet swell and hips ache leaving her to wonder how they would make it? I wonder if her contractions waited to begin once they arrived at Bethlehem or if it was just like your typical birth and contractions began when they wanted to – at the most inconvenient time ever. During those labor contractions, was Mary the angelic mother we paint her as or did she – mid contraction – grab Joseph by the arm and hotly demand, “you find me a place to have this baby because – he – is – coming!” Perhaps she had it together and was able to just trust, surrender, and wait for the Lord to provide. Did Joseph find a voice of command in him that he never knew he had and did that conversation with the innkeeper go more like a directive than begging and pleading?  I wonder if Jesus was a cooperative birth or if he made his mother work long and hard on his birth. How emotionally challenging a birth – even if it went “perfectly” – not just because it was pregnancy that started for Mary out of wedlock but that Joseph must have had to play a major part in the delivery – a work mostly, if not exclusively, left to the women. Perhaps the innkeeper’s wife helped. Perhaps no one wanted to help the immigrants in the stable. Either way, this birth was a work of excellent teamwork from two people who had not even had a chance to be a couple in life before a child and were now having to birth a baby together – in a place far from home – in the cold of winter – in a stable with animals and poop and dirt. I wonder if Mary felt fear in the final moments of delivery – would she make it or was her life the true cost of this service to God? As she held Jesus to her breast that first time, feeling the frailty of His human form, warming His soft baby flesh with milk and cuddles, did she weep for joy and call Him “sweet, sweet little baby.” Without doubt she kissed His chubby cheeks, counted His fingers and toes, and felt intoxicated by the scent of His fresh babyness. Without doubt she loved Him so dearly. Without doubt she felt that it was all entirely worth it.

This Christmas, I am thankful for the part Mary played. We won’t know her story exactly, but mothers everywhere know the essence of her heart. I am sure that Mary’s view was not “silent night,” but perhaps in the big picture it really was a silent, cold night. No one knew that the birth happening behind the inn was going to change everything for everyone. God created birth to be such a giving of self that I wish it had given a little more to what Mary did. But the story of Christmas wasn’t and isn’t about Mary, it’s entirely about Jesus.  The circumstances of His birth started the age of grace – from how he ensured Mary and Joseph made it through the tumultuous beginning to how He provides for the tumult of humanity now.

 

And Mary said:

“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me— holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation. He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever, just as he promised our ancestors.” (Luke 1:46-55)