Reflection for December 23
A friend Beth, who is Jewish, joyfully welcomed her first grandchild into the world this week. When asked his name, she only replied that he’d be unnamed until his bris in the coming week. We lovingly started to refer to him as the cute little No-Name Nugget. Oh, the hopes she and her family have for No-Name!
In another Jewish family, when the time came for naming, Elizabeth surprised everyone when she told her family that they would not follow tradition by naming their son after a relative. Even more surprising, perhaps, was Zechariah’s deferral to his wife in the matter, announcing the name would be John.
But I imagine that over the many months of pregnancy, both Elizabeth and Zechariah were changed and became attuned to a quiet voice, God’s voice, who helped them relax into the mystery of becoming parents and accepting their son’s uncertain path. While they didn’t know what John would become, they knew he was something special, something blessed. One result of that quiet listening is the beautiful Canticle of Zechariah.
How do we respond to the ordinary and yet mystical happenings in our lives? As a parent, I often imagine futures for my children and wonder how their lives will unfold. I wonder at new life coming into the world. I stand in both sadness and gratefulness at the death of loved ones. I relish connection with family and friends. Do I breathe in wonder and acceptance of such mysteries? Or do I experience fear and anxiety over them, as Elizabeth’s and Zechariah’s neighbors are said to have done?
As we approach your birthday, Lord, let us strive to adopt a posture of acceptance at what our children will become, what we will become, what our world will become.
Mary Kay Fenton