• 
• 
• 
• 

[above: Simeon blesses the child Jesus in the temple. Rembrandt Harmensz van Rijn (1606–1669), Simeon’s Song of Praise (1631)—Wikimedia]

Then Simeon blessed them and said to [Jesus’s] mother Mary, “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too. (Luke 2:34–35, NRSV)

All things are possible with God, but all things are not easy. 

—George MacDonald, Unspoken Sermons, 2nd series, “Life”

Christmas is coming!” the secular world says­—time to put up the decorations, plan the parties, buy and wrap the gifts. “Christmas is coming!” the church says—time to hold the pageants and sing the joyful songs.

Yet for many at this season, both the world’s cheer and the church’s eager excitement are difficult. The days speak to us of past sorrows such as the death of loved ones, or of future fears about family and jobs and the state of this tumultuous world.

It’s easy to think of the beautiful moment captured in many nativity scenes—adoring mother, peaceful child—and forget that Mary had to cope not only with all the usual troubles of child raising but with danger, displacement, and even prophecies that reminded her that her adorable baby boy would end up as a sign of political and spiritual turmoil. She probably knew that the last line of Simeon’s prophecy meant she would outlive her son.

George MacDonald’s art, too, was born from suffering. He struggled with health problems from childhood, fought with his congregation, and for much of his life was short of money. He knew the same soul-piercing sword as the Virgin Mary, outliving four of his children and one granddaughter.

Today we remember that we serve a Christ who came as Mary’s helpless baby so that he could understand our suffering. With that Christ all things are possible, and he walks with us.

PRAYER: Dear Jesus, thank you for being with me always, even when things are not easy. I commit my sorrows into your hand as I await your coming. Amen.

By Jennifer Woodruff Tait

Show more