I grew up in the Lehigh Valley ofPennsylvania, first settled by Moravians, German speaking Protestants fromEastern Europe suffering persecution in the 17th and 18thcenturies. They chose biblical names fortheir communities. My hometown was Emmaus, for example. And it was a short distance from there toBethlehem, known as “The Christmas City.” The Moravians have many beautiful traditions and hymns for theholidays. One of my favorite Christmascarols is “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” One verse goes, “the hopes and fears of all the years are met in Theetonight.”
This phrase from the carol though has alwaysmade me stop and think. Aren’t carolssupposed to be happy and celebratory? Full of amazement and wonder? Isn’t Christmas about love and joy? So what are these hopes and fears all about?
Our first grandchild was born just beforeChristmas, which has been a delight of course. Like Jesus’ family, I suppose,we have had both hopes and fears for our precious newborn. A week after his birth, a routine checkturned into an anxious weekend in the hospital to evaluate some indeterminatesymptoms that thankfully turned out to be nothing. Our son and daughter inlaw’s first child-induced gray hairs. Momentary anxiety and fear for sure. Since then, to our relief, ourgrandson is healthy and thriving.
As grandparents, our thoughts occasionallyturn to the state of the world that our grandson has entered. Not unlike thefirst century Roman Empire of Jesus’ day, the world suffers many intractableconflicts and stresses. Bringingchildren into our times may be no less fraught than what Mary and Joseph facedlong ago. In the cold of winter, I find myself contemplating many anxieties andfears for our grandson’s future.
But when I hold him and peer into his darkeyes, I am filled with wonder, too. Maybe it’s the spirit of Christmas that still cannot be dimmed. Maybeit’s just the nature of hope. I think ofthe philosopher who wrote that hope is “walking to the edge of all the lightyou have and taking one more step.”
We keep bringing babies into the world despiteour misgivings and anxieties about the world. We keep investing in love evenwhen it seems like a long shot.
I retired a year ago and had a few ideas howto spend my time—travel, study, consulting, and pickleball. Now I’ve added practicing being a grandfatherto my plan. As many of you know, grand parenting is among the best activitiesimaginable. I recall my 70-somethingmother getting down on the floor to play with our infant son. She was about theage I am now, come to think of it. I ambeginning to understand now how becoming a grandparent changes our perspectivesof living as well as integrating the past and the future. It inspires us toactivities and energies we didn’t think possible after a certain age.
My stints of “Papa time” bring me the chanceto hold this amazing new human and think about my life. New beginnings, hopesand fears. These still meet not only inour identities as parents and grandparents, but also in our search for theChrist, the bringer of life and light to humankind. As we age then, perhaps we are lessfrightened by our inchoate fears and instead, we are more likely drawn by thepower of hope. Even when we perceive thevery edge of darkness, it carries us that first step further.