So, last Sunday I preached the longest sermon of my life. Apparently, I have no concept of time when I preach in Spanish :) Fortunately, though, we also have a very gracious church and an equally gracious pastor.
Another fortunate happenstance is that I have enough material to share with you these next few weeks of Advent.
When I was a child, I remember attending church on the first Sunday of Advent and bringing home the Advent wreath to celebrate the season. It is a tradition we continue with our family today. If you are not familiar with this tradition, every night we light a candle that represents a part of the Christmas story. Each week, we light one more candle until Christmas day when we celebrate the light of the world Jesus.
I loved this tradition as a child. Although it was fun to talk about Santa and sing about Rudolph, I always knew that Christmas was really about Jesus. And the Advent season helped our family to prepare for this wondrous celebration. Therefore, as I considered my message for Sunday, I had Christmas on my mind. I read the Christmas story in Gospel of Luke and studied the early life of Jesus once again, and I wondered . . . what was it like for Jesus to grow up in his home? Did he get along with his siblings? Was he popular as a child; did he have a lot of friends? Was he a good student; did he complete his homework on time?
When I read the stories of the Bible, I like to place myself into the text, to view life and events through the eyes of those who experienced it first hand. And I realized through reading again the life of Christ there was only one person who was there from the cradle to the cross. And it is through her eyes these next few weeks, that I wish to tell the story of Christ.
Although, I have no desire to exaggerate the importance of Mary, neither do I wish to ignore her. She is, in fact a part of the Christmas story and the life of Christ. But as the story of Christ progresses, we see that she, like John the Baptist, must decrease, and Jesus must increase. As we watch Jesus grow up, leave home, begin his ministry, fulfill his purpose, and reveal his true identity, we also watch Mary slowly lose her influence and prominence in the life of her son, yet eventually find her true identity in the family of God.
As a woman, as a mother, and as a believer I find her perspective unique and interesting. As I read the story of God's son once again through the eyes of Mary, I was reminded of some personal events in my life as a mom that I would to share with you as well. It is a great responsibility to be a parent. We have no idea what it means to be a mom or dad, until we are one. Children are a joy and a privilege, but they come with a few surprises as well.
Many years ago, our son needed surgery when he was an infant. Stuart and I still remember the moment we had to place our son in the care of someone else. We had to trust that the doctors and nurses would take care of him, that they would protect him, and that they would bring him back to us when the surgery was completed.
Much in the same way, many years ago, God placed his son in the hands of a young couple. He trusted them to care for him, to raise him in a faithful Jewish home, and to guide him until he was ready to depart and then be placed back into the hands of the Father.
Next time: Carrying the Promise to Full Term
