A Gift for Telling
The sultry summer heat, which had come to be the norm last summer, had not yet returned. We dawdled over the second cup of coffee, in the quiet of a summer house, with an idyllic view of Margaree Island, and somehow the conversation turned to our children. She was awaiting the birth of a grandchild. The expected baby was to be born in the fall to her daughter, my dear friend. Like many great conversations, the full detail is a blur, but the memorable part has grown in meaning as I recollect it. She said, “On the anniversary of each of my children’s birth, I tell them once more, the story of the day they were born.” What an ordinary gift, a story! And yet, what could mean more than the story told by the one who brought you into the world, gazed first upon your tiny face, and fell deeply in love. It is such a beautiful thing to recall, and retell to the one who received that love. I expect the story told to them for as many years as they have been alive, is one that they can tell to their children, as they include the chapter about their birth. Certainly the tradition will be important. It will grow in depth and meaning as the generations find meaning in that treasured story of ordinary love.
It’s what we try to do every year at Christmas. Tell and retell, in our actions, by our music, in the way we prepare our houses and select the gifts for each one on our list. We tell them that they matter to us, that because of love, they are connected to us and the long story of love born among us. Perhaps it is the oldest story, but it is the one that matters most. We are born into love. Those who claim the Christian story of love, remember it as God coming to us through a baby, born to poor young parents, on the road, with no fixed address. What we also remember through that story is that love provides the shelter, the cradle, the context, the visitors, and the good news that spreads throughout the world. We remember that the beginning was important, but the ending matters even more. God born among us, exemplifies the greatest gift of love as the life of Jesus of Nazareth unfolds and becomes a part of our story.
The story resonates in my heart this year, because of its messiness. This baby was not born in the way one might have hoped or expected. The nursery was not painted and decorated with matching items in anticipation of his arrival. As if the arduous journey to be registered was not enough, before long the young family was on the move again. Seeking safety, finding security, trying to provide and prepare and live into God’s dream although surely difficult, goes almost unrecorded. The details of day to day living, don’t seem to matter much in this story either, a reminder that in the end they will not matter to us. Coming to realize that love never dies, that its eternal value grows when nurtured in each subsequent new life, that is the gift of Christmas. A faith for today does well when that is remembered and love comes to full expression. The day of Christmas is over for this year, but the season remains. Perhaps the gift you have not yet given or received is the gift of your story of love. It’s worth telling.
Rev. Donna Tourneur ministers among the people of Trinity United Church in New Glasgow.