I look forward to taking the Sacrament with all of you on Christmas Day this year. In honor that, I’ve updated this post on Christmas and the things that make us innocent.
Every birth is a nativity for the family involved. Every newborn babe is shocking proof that innocence and holiness can exist in fleshly vessels. Every parent can tell you that every little infant is a surety that better things can be then are found in the ponderous and deadly accretions of the World. Births are a miracle.
In this respect, every birth follows the pattern of Christ’s birth. His birth does to all of us what births do to parents. He unmans all creation.
In a sense, I think, we are spiritually reborn when we participate in a birth. For all of us, at Christmas, when we participate in Christ’s birth. For we individual parents, at the birth of our children.
That was the conclusion I came to while thinking over Christmas and rebirth this Sunday during the sacrament. I remembered that the prophets explicitly describe baptism as being born again and the sacrament as the weekly “renewing of our baptismal covenants,� which is the matter-of-fact Mormon way of saying that every week in the sacrament we are born yet again as new sons and daughters of Christ. I pondered this and realized that I had experienced that rebirth. At least, I had experienced something when I took the sacrament that I had experienced on witnessing my daughters’ births or on standing as a Christmas witness to the timeless birth of Jesus. I had felt the value, hope, freshness, and vitality that that’s slowly drained out of everything come flooding back in. Nothing looked the same; I’d only seen it with before with dead eyes.
This rebirth experience, I realized, has happened to me many times. I was baptized once. I’ve often taken the sacrament efficaciously. I’ve seen daughters born twice. And every Christmas, in my heart I’ve gone to the stable to glory in the Infant. All those were rebirths for me and remembering them was a sweet accompaniment to the sacrament.
Then, as I was sitting there with the bread and water, I suddenly saw myself in contrast to Him. I have been reborn and will be reborn many times. He was born but once.
Certainly we celebrate his birth every year. But we don’t do it, I think, as if he were being reborn. We do it as if his birth was somehow timeless and therefore ever present. It is as if he were the Lamb slain and born from the beginning of the world. But now can a birth, how can anything, be timeless? The answer came. His birth continues–the joyful promise of it is as good today as it was then–because he has never blighted it and thus has never ceased to be what he was. The omnipotent Jesus is in some sense still the Child.
Every baby grows a little crooked as it grows. Every sacrament goer leaves the meeting touched, if still only lightly, with stupor. Every Christmas brings its quarrel. Every new leaf stiffens in the summer and sickens in the fall. He alone–the Christ –was born and lives an evergreen.
And this one for Christmas Eve:
http://www.timesandseasons.org/index.php?p=1781
Adam, thanks for a wonderful post. I’ll try to keep your thoughts in mind as I take the sacrament this Sunday/Christmas. You’re right; our commemoration of Christ’s birth takes place in sacred time, whereas our own perpetual rebirths through covenant take place in calendar time. That’s one of the things that I find so powerful about the sacrament; every week, our lives are relinked to the sacred moment of Christ’s birth, life, and death, and we are remade in His image.
Again, thanks. A wonderful set of spiritual insights.
Thank you, sir. The spiritual insight here into Christmas is all the sweeter for seeing it written in your own words.
Adam,
That may be the most meaningful post I have read in a long time. Sincere thanks for enriching my appreciation and enjoyment of the Christian miracle. Best to you and yours.
Back with my new cherry computer. This kid who was my son’s friend is now a computer genius.
I would advise anyone wanting to have a more spiritual and meaningful Christmas to do less. This year we didn’t put up a tree, which entails hauling five boxes up the stairs. I bought a huge fresh wreath at home depot and put ribbons all over and my front room looks lovely, but not so much work. I feel more Christmas-y. Haven’t baked one cookie.
I think I know what you’re trying do to, Adam, I try every year to somehow capture that special feeling of Christmas. It’s hard. I want that movie sort of warmth, the snow softly falling, the love, the colors.
So you have given me good food for thought. One of the most wonderful experiences in my life was watching the birth of my friends’ baby. Bar none, it was absolutely thrilling. I will ponder. As me and Bill wander Salt Lake City.
Merry Christmas, AnneGB. Merry Christmas, Constanza.
“The omnipotent Jesus is in some sense still the Child. Every baby grows a little crooked as it grows. Every sacrament goer leaves the meeting touched, if still only lightly, with stupor. Every Christmas brings its quarrel. Every new leaf stiffens in the summer and sickens in the fall. He alone–the Christ –was born and lives an evergreen.”
Beautiful, Adam–simply beautiful. Thanks.
(tears of happiness)
As I thought, taking the sacrament with you all this Sunday was sweet. I wish we could celebrate Christmas on Sunday every year.
Adam, you’ve gone beyond yourself with this one, both in content and style. Thanks very much.