There’s a tune I play with other musicians, called “Hyfrydol,” which in my religion is sung with the words, “In Humility, Our Savior.” There are Christmas lyrics I like, with a lot of Alleluias. But the most common version is probably “Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus,” which can also be sung as a Christmas hymn.
At the time of the Savior’s birth, people had been waiting already for a very long time. Every Old Testament prophet prophesied of the coming Messiah. So I’m trying to imagine what people like the shepherds thought, in their rejoicing at the wondrous news from the angels. And there were Simeon and Anna at the temple, when the infant Jesus was brought there, who were aging but had faithfully held on until they could see their Lord in the flesh.
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| Ken Turner's "The Nativity," from a gallery show in Columbus, TX, in 2022 |
In the book of 3 Nephi, in the Book of Mormon, the people on
that continent are also awaiting the Savior’s birth. There had been a prophecy
that in five years the sign would be given—a day and a night and a day with no
darkness. The believers are waiting, aware that the time is ripe. The
non-believers are persecuting them, and have made an ultimatum: deny your
beliefs or die, with a set date after which come the executions.
Here's the scriptural telling of the story, starting in 3 Nephi 1:4:
for there began to be agreater signs
and greater miracles wrought among the people.
5 But there were some who began to say that the time was past for
the words to be fulfilled, which were aspoken by
Samuel, the Lamanite.
6 And they began to arejoice over
their brethren, saying: Behold the time is past, and the words of Samuel are
not fulfilled; therefore, your joy and your faith concerning this thing hath
been vain.
7 And it came to pass that they did make a great uproar throughout
the land; and the people who believed began to be very
sorrowful, lest by any means those things which had been spoken might not come
to pass.
8 But behold, they did watch steadfastly for athat day and
that night and that day which should be as one day as if there were no night,
that they might know that their faith had not been vain.
9 Now it came to pass that there was a day set apart by the aunbelievers, that
all those who believed in those traditions should be bput to death except
the csign should
come to pass, which had been given by Samuel the prophet.
The prophet, Nephi (one of many generations of prophets with
that name in the Book of Mormon), is earnestly praying, that his people might
not be killed:
12 And it came to pass that he cried mightily unto the Lord aall that
day; and behold, the bvoice of
the Lord came unto him, saying:
13 Lift up your head and be of
good cheer; for behold, the time is at hand, and on this night shall the asign be given,
and on the bmorrow come I
into the world.
What a relief it must have been—in the nick of time! Some people
say God likes to work in those last moments, when His people know they have no
chance of rescuing themselves, and so any rescue must be attributed to God. Imagine
the relief those early followers of Christ must have felt.
I’ve been thinking about expectations and waiting. One story that
fascinates me is the story of Sarah, Abraham’s wife. Abraham too, but I’m
looking at her perspective. Abraham has been promised a posterity—as numerous
as the sands of the seashore, or as the dust particles of the earth (Genesis 13:16),
or as numerous as the stars (Genesis 15:5).
But Abraham and Sarah are aging. He is 99 going on 100, and Sarah
is 89 going on 90. In those days, people lived longer than today—not as old as
before the flood, when 900 years wasn’t unheard of—but still, they are old
enough that Sarah is well beyond her childbearing years.
So I think about Sarah. They had had this promise—from God, who
does not lie. And yet, she knew enough of biological reality to know women her
age, well past menopause, did not bear children. What must she have thought? Maybe
asking, “Are my blessings really meant for this life, or are those blessings I’ll
see in the next life?” She had wondered if, perhaps she could fulfill God’s
word by having her handmaid, Hagar, marry her husband and provide a son. Thus
Ishmael had been born and was now 13. But God came to Abraham and said that Sarah
would bear him a son, and the covenant would go through that son—who would be
named Isaac. And he would be born within the year.
A couple of chapters later (Genesis 18), three holy messengers come and verify that Abraham’s wife, Sarah, will bear a son. She laughs when she hears of it. With skepticism? With joy? I’m not sure what she thought at that point. But she did, in due time, bear a son, Isaac, who became the father of Jacob—renamed Israel, meaning God prevails. And Jacob/Israel bore twelve sons, the descendants of whom fill the earth.
Abraham and Sarah are blessed with a son in their old age.
I wasn't able to identify the source of this art. It was used in dozen of places,
without attribution. One place even used it to illustrate John the Baptist's parents,
which was the clearest image, found here.
It happened, just as God said it would happen. Even though it was later than could be expected.
Waiting is hard. I, of course, prefer the time after fulfillment,
when the waiting is over. But that choice isn't up to me.
I wasn’t particularly old when I got married, 23. But I was a year and a half out of college—at a church college where many many of my roommates and friends got married during our college years. So I was seen as late. There were times when it didn’t seem likely I would ever find someone. Looking back now, worrying about that at 23 seems silly. But that was the feeling I had at the time: maybe it would come someday, but it just didn’t seem possible that such a time would ever arrive. And then it did. Quite suddenly. We are coming up on 42 years married, this month. I still remember being surprised that marriage had come so soon—after all the waiting.
That's us in December 1981. I guess we've changed a little.
That olive tree behind us was taken out by a rare downtown tornado
a couple of decades ago.
Then there was the desire for children. Our first child was born very premature and only lived a few hours. And then I found it hard to get pregnant again. And then I required bedrest to prevent another early delivery. My children were hard to get. And there were times I wasn’t sure they would come. Looking back, my waiting was short. My trials were something I can’t see myself volunteering for, but they were worth it. I was able to raise three beautiful, brilliant children. And suddenly I’m a grandmother, which I love.
Me with one of my grandsons; this one is 11 now.
There was waiting, and a sense that the anticipated end would
never come. And then it came.
Christmas is a glimpse of that for children every year. It feels
like it will never get here—even while parents are frantically trying to cram
in all the required activities in the limited time between Thanksgiving and
Christmas. But it comes. It always really comes.
We do well to remember the birth of our Savior, to honor Him for
his supernal gift of atonement. We do well also to anticipate His coming again.
For most people who have lived since His first coming, this has required going
through death to return to Him. But the prophets all foretell a time when He
will come again, and reign in glory on the earth. And it could be in our
lifetime. It could be soon. This year, next year, this decade at the outside.
(I prefer sooner.)
The lesson from His first coming is that, after all the long
expectation, He came. So, after long expectation, He will come again.
The lights, the music, the celebration of His birth can also be a
joyous anticipation. Because, one thing we know is, God keeps His promises. While
we don’t know when, it will be in the nick of time to rescue this fallen world.
That is worth thinking about in every expression of Merry Christmas!
A few days ago our Church did a beautiful presentation on the electronic billboards in Times Square. This video is an early Christmas treat. (Or view on YouTube here.)
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