Oh Come let us Adore Him

We have started singing Christmas Carols at church! I love it!

This week as we sang Oh Come Let us Adore Him, I thought about the "three wise men", aka rich foreigners of indeterminate number on a long trip to a backwater Roman province, and what it might have been like for them to visit toddler Jesus and bow to him.

Venerating a toddler is basically unfathomable for me. I can only grasp at it. I know that in Buddhism sometimes they have young deities. And I imagine that in hereditary monarchies people get used to the occasional young monarch or heir apparent. But I'm a Protestant American. If anything it is taboo to venerate people for anything other than their accomplishments. There's a vague notion of "First Families" but it's got a vague tint of unAmericanness about it.

But there you go. In Matthew chapter two, it says these "Magi" end up at Jesus' house, bow down to him, and present him gifts. I wonder what could have moved them to do that? It says they saw a "star when it rose" and they interpreted that as the birth of a new king of the Jews. First, how? and second, how does that lead them to conclude that what they need to do is take a long journey to find this new king and worship him which is what the text says they do? That's a lot of conviction followed by spending, the money, time and effort. I wonder what their servants thought about this whole hare-brained adventure?

Then I wonder what these guys thought when they discovered the new king wasn't going to be found in a palace but probably the village of Bethlehem? Like, is that ok? Do they question their quest at this point? A king? but not in the palace? (And I notice that Herod puts two and two together really quick and decides this new king is the "promised Messiah". This does not stop him from ordering the deaths of a whole bunch of toddlers in the hopes of getting this aforementioned Messiah dead.) But back to the Magi, in any event, they move on from the palace and a star leads them to Mary and Jesus.

As far as the text go, we don't know that Mary and Joseph had any special social status. But in the Magi go, into the house, and they bow down. Wild. Toddler boys don't look like much. Wide-eyed, with round bellies and stumping legs, they kind of hoover up life innocently. They are not worship material. They are barely contained chaos, don't-touch-that, don't-eat-that kinds of beings. Maybe toddler Jesus was special and glowed or something. But I like to believe that these foreigners simply had a God-given revelation that this kid was special and had special meaning for the world. In any event, however, they felt about the events that led up to that recorded meeting, they worshiped, and Jesus even as toddler deserved that worship.

As I look ahead to 2014, I am exploring whether to commit my time to a couple new projects. My thing with projects that involve people is that I like metrics but I believe in the value of people. So left to my instincts, I will pursue outcomes over individuals. But as I think about venerating a teething, drooling, pooping toddler, I'm reminded that just as Jesus deserved worship before he "accomplished" anything, that if I take on a project my first goal is not to fulfill metrics. Instead I need to live as a human being treating others as other human beings who have a Jesus-derived worth.

Too tired to (not) connect

It's been a rough six weeks. We are really tired, we've been really tired. It's Friday and like most Friday's recently we've just barely made it.

And most days around 7:30, 8 o'clock, the kids are in their beds and my husband and I look at each other, and we are totally beat. And a couple nights a week, we'll put in a DVD, snuggle up on the couch, and watch something fun. Yes, we're not eyeball to eyeball talking about deep issues, and yes, we're not even being silly and goofing off over a video game, and yes, it's not a dress up date, but that is us, a few quiet moments, resting together, and that's it. Apart from the general figuring out of how to keep our four lives going, this is how we're connecting.

Spiritually, my first thought is that I am way too tired to connect with Jesus. Not only do I have little time to myself, when I do have physical space, I have very little mental space. What I need is a couch and DVDs with Jesus. A little place to be safely exhausted yet with.

And as I ponder this, I realize that I'm way too tired to not connect with Jesus.

I don't have the how's figured out, but the following words of Jesus have come to mind.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
~The good news according to Matthew, chpt 11

Motherhood: The never ending New Year's resolution

I don't know why anyone else might have a kid; I imagine there are many reasons possible, but I had a kid because it was a "good idea" or more to the point, I believed it to be part and parcel of "being married" which I was at the time and still am. This feels remarkably like the reasoning behind many New Year's resolutions; losing weight, exercising more, procrastinating less, drinking 8 glasses of water a day. All these are "good ideas", and only a contrarian would dispute that these resolutions genearlly fall under "being a better person".

New Year's resolutions in December are shiny and full of possibility as one looks forward to the payoffs of new habits and behaviors. In February, however, they have generally been discarded as the stresses of life squeeze out exercise and make mindless time wasting and mass quantities of bacon ever more appealing.

While the whale-like state of 38+ weeks of pregnancy and any weeks of nausea and vomiting are admittedly uncomfortable, any fetal cries for help are well hidden and frankly impossible for anyone to do much about. The newborn infant is but a soft idea of cuddly cuteness. About 4-6 weeks after the wriggling mass arrives, this idea is well buried beneath chronic sleep deprivation as the new mother struggles to hold on to the last vestiges of her sanity. Unfortunately for her, there is no socially approved wink for giving up on her child, but luckily about this time her baby will likely learn to smile and her breasts will decide that maybe they don't need to explode off her chest. This improves things quite a bit.

I was talking with some friends about how fear is frequently more motivating than grace and trying to figure out why this was. The more I think about this the more I think about how we--as in all people but particularly, Christians--behave as if we constantly need to justify ourselves. I don't really mean this in the theological justification sense, but partly. We're constantly trying to prove that we're ok with our bosses, with our co-workers, with our friends, with our spouses, and so on. We fear missing a deadline because of various social and financial consequences. And deep down we believe that if we only do X, Y, and Z, we'll solve the rubix cube and our lives will be ordered and ok.

Motherhood has been the New Year's resolution that I'm not allowed to give up. No matter how tired, grouchy, and entitled I feel, I'm going to change a lot of diapers and I'm going to feed and hug my baby (who's really on the cusp of being a toddler, but I'm not ready for that). And in these most tired, most grouchy, most selfish moments I am faced with my failings that are unjustified and unjustifiable. Am I really mad because my kid didn't poo in her potty? Seriously? Yes, seriously, I am mad. Wow. How revealing.

I have not always been an awesome wife, but it's not that hard to rationalize and hide behind something the husband has done or not done. But being a mother, I've lost a lot to hide behind. Who or what can I blame for being impatient or angry or unkind to my child? Nothing rational. And I see ever more vividly my need for grace. When grace isn't motivating enough for us, I think it's because we don't know what grace is to us. Grace is why I haven't been zapped off the face of the earth for my impatience, anger, and unkindness. Grace is what justifies me and my life and allows me to stop doing mental contortions to justify not being a star academic blazing trails for future generations of women in academia. Grace is what will make being a mother possible, endurable, and vibrant.