Singing Jesus to Sleep

In Christian devotion (and in many other religious traditions as well) there is much praise to God for creating the world. That God would consider it worth while to make a world with living creatures in it is astounding; an occasion for contemplative awe. According to the Psalter, the rivers clap their hands and the mountains sing together for joy. (Ps. 98: 8) Needless to say, the Psalmist expects humans to praise God at least as much as that if not more.

The traditional celebration of the Christ Child is enriched by the inclusion of nature. It is true that Luke doesn’t mention animals except for the sheep tended by the shepherds, but where there is a manger, there are animals, and the Magi probably didn’t walk great distances when camels were available. The tradition of farm animals being present to welcome Jesus into the world is inspired by the words of Isaiah: “The ox knows its master, the donkey its owner’s manger, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand.” (Is. 1: 3) Isaiah obviously thinks the animals are better at praising God than humans. Meanwhile, the angels really show us how to whoop it up over the pastures where the shepherds are tending their flock.

It is amazing that in spite of all the human failure to praise and obey God, the Creator entered God’s own creation as a human being, as frail as any other. That is quite a lot of downward mobility for one in whom “all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities.” (Col. 1: 16) It really is too much for us to take in. Like Mary, we need to treasure these things and ponder them in our hearts. (Lk. 2: 19)

In addition to all the carols about ox and ass tending the baby Jesus and the lovely carol Angels We Have Heard on High, there seem to be more Christmas lullabies than there are stars in the sky. The lullaby for Jesus, Schlaf, mein Jesu,” (Sleep my Jesus) sung by the alto soloist in Bach’s Christmas Oratorio is among the most beautiful. As a choir boy, I sang several lullaby carols. One of my favorites was a Czech carol called the “Rocking Carol” with flowing melodic lines accompanying the lovely melody.

From the dawn of humanity, mothers have been lulling their babies to sleep. It seems quite possible that lullabies may be among the oldest songs conceived by humanity. They are among the first songs that children learn. I still remember several from early childhood, especially the Irish lullaby: “Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-rah.” It is both fitting and a deeply sound intuition to assume that the infant Jesus would have been lulled to sleep like every other baby, his divinity notwithstanding. Nothing could more deeply affirm his full humanity. The lullaby Christmas carols give us entry into a devotion of rocking Jesus to sleep as an act of devotion.

Because God became a child who was lulled to sleep, every child is Jesus, just as each person is the least (and therefor the most) of his brethren. Like every baby, Jesus was fragile and needed to be handled with care. When he grew up, nails could be driven into his hands just as easily as with any other human. Because of Jesus, every baby, every person, needs to be handled with the same gentle care expressed in these Christmas lullabies. The same applies to the whole eco-system, which is both resilient and frail, so that heaven and nature can have something to sing about. Quite a lot for us, like Mary, to ponder in our hearts.

Czech Rocking Caro lhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpa2qjIxolY

How to Look Forward to God

From time to time, some of us, probably most of us, are overcome with a feeling that something is about to happen. What it is that is coming is usually vague as in the celebrated song from West Side Story: “Something’s coming, I don’t know what it is/ But it is gonna be great.” Perhaps this longing turns out to be wishful thinking, or maybe something comes but it turns out not to be as great as hoped for. But then there are times when something really does come. John the Baptist proclaimed in the desert a conviction that something momentous was about to happen, even if he didn’t know exactly what it was going to be: “After me comes the one more powerful than I, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” (Mk. 1: 7–8) With Advent being the time of expectation and preparation, John the Baptist is a focus because of his own vocation of prophetic expectation. So how can we deepen our expectations today through his expectations in his time?

Past history can give us some sense of direction about what might be coming, as it did with John. If a parent tells a child that a special treat is coming, the child’s expectations are fueled by the special treats given previously, even if they don’t make the next treat predictable. Mark quotes the opening verses of Isaiah 40 to indicate the history that fueled his expectations. The verses in Isaiah proclaim the miraculous return of the Israelites to Jerusalem at the end of the Babylonian Exile. This remembered act of deliverance raised hope that God would do yet another great new thing in the present time of need under the Roman occupation which had exiled the Jews in their own country.

As for the present time, John did not know specifically what was coming but, from our vantage point, we know that the infant Jesus had been born and we also know what happened when this child grew up. Does that mean that for us there is no suspense? No. When we read a story for a second or third time, we may know how it ends but we find ourselves understanding much more about what the ending means by going through the story again. Surely none of us have exhausted the meanings of Jesus’ birth and death and resurrection! To give a telling example: John himself seems to have been off the mark when he said someone “stronger” than he was going to come as Jesus was born a helpless infant and Mark stresses Jesus’ weakness on the cross. Or is this weakness an unimaginable strength beyond John’s grasp? The Greek word ischyros used here means physical strength, but it can also refer to spiritual and moral strength. What does all this mean to us? We have much insight and inspiration to look forward to!

Like John, we look to the future with trepidation and hope. The author of Second Peter captures our apprehensions today by predicting that “the heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything done in it will be laid bare.” (2 Pet. 3: 10) That does not sound reassuring and surely is not what God wants for us; it is obviously a human possibility. But in the midst of such trials, we have a “new heaven and a new earth” to look forward to. Such a new heaven and new earth is beyond imagining; surely they are not like the mediocre visions of heaven that one literary critic referred to as a move from second class to first class accommodations attested to in bad poems..

Is our hope and expectation hopelessly vague? The prophecy in Isaiah can help us now as much as it helped the Israelites at the time of the return from exile. The road may be rough, but God will make the rugged places a plain. (Is 40: 4) Moreover, God will lead us as a shepherd leads the sheep and, again beyond imagining, “the glory of the Lord will be revealed.”

What do we do in the meantime? One thing we can and must do is wait, poised and ready for something to come. Even the impatient adolescent Tony sang in his song: “Yes it will/ Maybe just by holding still, it’ll be there.” If Tony can hold still until he meets Maria, we can hold still until we meet our God who is surely coming to meet us. The other thing we can and must do is repent. We need to straighten out the rough valleys and hills within ourselves that obstruct a highway of God, and we need to turn away from the ways we inflame the earth and turn to ways we can make the earth new. John preached and enacted a baptism of repentance; Jesus’ first admonition after being baptized himself was: Repent. Repent and wait: that is what Advent is all about. Meanwhile, something is coming from God even if we don’t know what it is.