Mary Let Me Hold Her Baby

Two years ago, I endeavored to make some music videos themed to fit with Michael McLean's Forgotten Carols. These carols have long been a tradition in my family. Some years, we have gone to see a live concert production of the carols. Other years, we have read the book and listened to the carols following along with the story. Every year, we have put the album onto our Christmas music playlist and listened again and again to these inspiring songs. As a hobbyist video editor, I have found some wonderful Christmas and Nativity themed video footage from wonderful movie productions that I have been able to draw upon for these videos that I've created as another way for me to enjoy the carols in my Christmas traditions.

I started out with the goal of making a video for my favorite Forgotten Carol. As I realized that they all were my favorite, I ended up making videos for all of the carols except this one about a handmaid who helped Mary by holding her baby while Mary slept and was changed for the better because of the boy. It wasn't that I didn't feel this carol worthy of a music video. Although, if full honesty, I was probably a little more inspired at the time by the carol about Joseph and fathers than this one about mothers. As a father, that feeling might be understandable. At the end of the day, I probably didn't get around to making this movie because I wasn't insure what video footage to include, let alone what footage might be available. There is countless footage of video portrayals of Mary and Joseph swaddling and holding the infant dear. There is abundant footage of shepherds, wise men, and innkeepers. But it was going to be a struggle to find any footage of someone other than Mary or Joseph, let alone a woman, holding an infant Jesus. And to me, the entire carol seemed to be focused singularly on a woman rocking that sweet babe. 

Last Christmas, my inspiration for a potential Mary Let Me Hold Her Baby video completely changed. I was performing in a Christmas concert. To have better balance with the choir, I was not playing in one number, Dan Forrest's There is Faint Music. And so I had the opportunity to sit in the middle of the stage, surrounded by strings, winds and brass, and that magnificent choir that sang about a dark and frosty night where a mother rocked God's own son, her baby boy to sleep with sweet lullabies. Prior to the song, the conductor read the words of the song. And as I was encompassed by the beautiful sound, I was able to focus on the words that had just been shared. I first envisioned that mother and baby on that silent, frosty night. But that vision quickly changed to be an image of my own sweet wife, a wonderful mother of four. And I was able to recall and envision her rocking each of our infant children. Tears filled my eyes as I thought about my wife as a mother. The Forgotten Carol that had eluded me previously now had a visual anchor. I realized that the song wasn't about Mary or even this fictional handmaid. It was about all women, including those who don't have the opportunity to become mothers, and their infinite capacity to love and nurture the little ones of whom Christ said was the kingdom of God. 

I made a commitment at that concert that I would complete my Forgotten Carol videos by including this one and using abundant footage of mothers and Christlike women as the anchor for the message of this carol. And this Christmas season, I have finally followed through on that commitment. 

I am eternally grateful for my own mother who taught me and raised me to be the man I am today. I am eternally grateful for the mother of my children and her infinite love and patience. I am eternally grateful for all of the women in my life who embrace their divine gifts to nurture and serve and who exude the pure love of Christ in every word and act. You are all too often unsung heroes for all that you do. But in this tender song, which has risen in my list of favorites now that I have a clearer understanding of its message, I hope that your heroic role would reverberate loud and clear for the whole world to hear and reflect upon. Thank heavens for mothers. Thank heavens for women. 

Merry Christmas and God Bless! 

*******

Mary let me hold her baby, her newborn son.

Though I'd never be a mother, I felt like one. 

Mary let me hold her baby so she could rest,

And ever since that night I held Him, my life's been blessed 

Those like me who can't have children

Still can be mothers

Something in His eyes convinced me

I could serve so many others 

Mary let me hold her baby, so soft and warm.

Mary let me hold her baby and I was reborn.

Carol of Joy

I first heard this glorious Christmas song many years ago as a part of a Christmas concert I was asked to participate in. The orchestration Dan Forrest has set to Eileen Berry's beautiful poem is so gorgeous that I was immediately caught up in the spirit of this inspiring carol. However, I have to admit that, similar to my experience with most choral music, I could never quite understand the words clearly enough to capture the true message of this song. But that didn't stop me finding a copy of it and listening multiple times every Christmas season since then. You'd think that my efforts to track down the song would have naturally been accompanied by efforts to look up the lyrics. But, in the words of Han Solo, "Hey, it's me!" and I have been content to be inspired by the beautiful melodies without a complete understanding of the message of the carol.

Last Christmas, I was once again blessed with an opportunity to play this song at a Christmas concert. This time, however, the conductor made a last minute call at the dress rehearsal to limit the number of string players to a small handful so that there would be better balance with the choir. I was quite upset. This was one of my favorite Christmas songs; I rarely get to perform it; and I was now going to have to sit this one out. But my disappointment was replaced by something unexpected as I quietly sat and listened to the performance. Sitting with my eyes shut tight and my ears wide open in the middle of the string section, with the winds and brass just behind me and the choir close behind them, I arguably had the best seat in the house and experienced this carol in true surround sound. And that immersive experience, where I didn't have to focus on my notes, allowed me to focus mentally on the words I heard and spiritually and emotionally on the feelings the musical setting evoked in me. I found clarity in the words that I had not found before. And I was carried away in the message of this beautiful carol.

I hurried home after the concert to look up the lyrics and to listen to my recording. I listened again. And then I listened once more. The power of this song rose to new heights as it took on deeper meaning and inspiration for me. I decided then and there that this beautiful choral performance of the carol deserved to be coupled with those beautiful and poetic words of Eileen Berry so that all who hear could share with me in the clarity and deeper meaning of those lyrics. My Christmas season came and went in a bustle of activity, and it took me a year before I finally fulfilled my commitment to make this video. May you be touched by the beauty of the music and the message of this song as you join us in singing this Carol of joy, of hope, and of redemption made possible through the life and gift of Him whose birth we commemorate this holiday season. Merry Christmas and God Bless!

*******

Green leaves all fallen, withered and dry; 

Brief sunset fading, dim winter sky. 

Lengthening shadows, Dark closing in… 

Then, through the stillness, carols begin! 

Oh fallen world, to you is the song— 

Death holds you fast and night tarries long. 

Jesus is born, your curse to destroy! 

Sweet to your ears, a carol of Joy! 

Pale moon ascending, solemn and slow; 

Cold barren hillside, shrouded in snow; 

Deep, empty valley veiled by the night; 

Hear angel music—hopeful and bright! 

Oh fearful world, to you is the song— 

Peace with your God, and pardon for wrong! 

Tidings for sinners, burdened and bound— 

A carol of joy! A Saviour is found! 

Earth wrapped in sorrow, lift up your eyes! 

Thrill to the chorus filling the skies! 

Look up sad hearted—witness God’s love! 

Join in the carol swelling above! 

Oh friendless world, to you is the song! 

All Heaven’s joy to you may belong! 

You who are lonely, laden, forlorn— 

Now unto you, A Saviour is born!

- Eileen Berry

The Worth of a Sparrow

Yesterday, I was in the middle of my annual untangling and testing of Christmas lights when I heard a panicked cry from my daughter, Amy. Dad, come help! Something is wrong with Tsunami! 

Over the next couple hours, I learned more than I ever thought I would need to about the anatomy and reproductive nature of parakeets. Amy's little bird was suffering from something called an egg binding and a prolapse. At this point, the vet was closed for the weekend and I was unaware if there even existed the equivalent of a pet ER. And so we resorted to internet searches and calls to family and others much more knowledgeable about pet birds than I to see what we could do for this little bird that was clearly suffering and in trauma. 

We did the best we could to gently help Tsunami pass the trapped egg and to correct the prolapse. But as we did, I felt very little hope for this poor little bird as I thought about the likelihood of infections from our less than sterile and less than professional attempts at treatment and the possibility of Tsunami laying additional eggs in the coming days and re-aggravating her condition. At one point, I even found myself researching humane methods of euthanasia for the little bird.

At the end of the day, I was clearly sad for the distressed and suffering bird. But I was even more sad and concerned about my little girl, who was just as distressed and suffering in her own way over her beloved pet. The logical economist in me had been crunching numbers and dollar signs since my first search for a local vet. At $20 each at the pet store, a $200 emergency bill could equal ten replacement birds. After the major trauma had passed and the little bird was wrapped in a warm towel and her breathing had slowed to a more normal rate, Amy and I sat talking about her bird and the risks that she might not survive. If her bird made it through the coming day, Amy asked me if we could take her bird in to the vet on Monday morning. And as I began to delicately share my thoughts on the economies of pets and potential medical care and the risks of professional treatment not helping, one look at my little girl stopped me in my tracks. Dad, she said, I would spend all of my savings if it could help save Tsunami! 

I held my little girl close as we both cried, and I thought long and hard about what Amy had said. What was the worth of this little bird? Had we been talking about my little girl or one of my other children, there would have been no sum of money too high or no odds too unlikely for me to sell my soul for that child's well being. And for Amy, this was no different. As a "mother" in her own right to this little bird, Amy was ready to take a hammer to her piggy bank and to do all in her power to save Tsunami. And with these thoughts came to mind a powerful teaching from Christ to his disciples in the Gospels.

Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your father? Not one of them is forgotten before God? But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.

Sadly, the hairs of my head are more able to be numbered than they once were, as my children love to remind me. My kind wife has gently suggested multiple times that the opportunity for investing in Minoxidil will soon pass if I don't take action soon. But what beauty this teaching of our elder brother conveys when we think about how a tiny little sparrow cannot fall to the ground without the notice of our Father in Heaven, the creator of all. He knows each and every one of His creations. And the sanctity of life is something He has shown through His commandments that He holds dear. He has stressed the sacred nature of the procreative power that He has allowed us possess, to share with Him in the miracle of creation. And He has condemned the careless and malicious taking of life. And yet, although life is something that He holds so very dear, He allows death to be a necessary part of the cycle of life. Sometimes it occurs prematurely due to accidents and illness. Sometimes it follows a long and fruitful life. For Tsunami, death came more quickly than anticipated, and I was left to try to comfort a grief-stricken daughter. 

But the teaching is clear. Even God, the creator of innumerable stars and galaxies and the creator of the most minute of atoms and cells, is aware of that little bird's passing. And in a similar vein, he is aware of me. He knows my struggles and weaknesses. He knows my joys and successes. He hears and answers my meandering prayers. He has a plan for me if I will look to Him for guidance and direction. No matter how lonely, how afraid, how defeated, or how depressed I might feel at any time, I have a loving Father watching over me and standing ready to enfold me in his loving arms. He may know and love those sparrows and those parakeets. But He truly loves me in a way that dwarfs that worth that he places upon those winged creations--just as I, as a father, place infinitely more worth in my children over a beloved pet bird.

However, the purpose in this sermon that has been wrestling around in my heart since Tsunami's passing is not one about the worth that God places in the souls of His children. The sermon that is pounding the pulpit in my heart is one on the worth of sparrows. We know that the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. And it is easy for me to share with my Father in Heaven in recognizing the infinite worth of the souls of my brothers and sisters, my friends, my eternal companion and helpmate, and my beautiful children. But what about the worth of those sparrows?

Ultimately, Tsunami's worth struggled to surpass a monetary value worthy of an expensive veterinarian bill. Yes, I loved that little bird. But I placed a finite worth on that bird based upon certain qualities and judgments that I, as an imperfect man, felt to place upon that little animal. What worth do I place upon my fellow man? Who is a sparrow? And who is of more value than many sparrows?

I think it is all too natural for us as humans to gravitate towards others who are like us. Those who share similar beliefs as us. Those who look like us. Those who grew up near us or in a similar way. Those who went to the same school we did. Those who share a similar lifestyle and level in the social class systems that we consciously or subconsciously adopt. As a result of this innate nature we have to group ourselves in this way, we find rampant accusations of racism, sexism, prejudice, stereotypes, and bigotry. And more often than not, those accusations are probably spot on.

One might be upset at another for not looking past the color of his skin while on the other hand stereotyping someone else as a nerd because of a poor man's attempt to repair a pair of broken eyeglasses with masking tape--from personal experience, I can say that such repair jobs never last longer than a day or two. If sparrows could speak, I wonder what worth they would place on a human compared to one of their fellow species born with the angelic and heavenly gift of flight. I don't endeavor here to convince all of the sparrows, or all of those who fall into some social, racial, or gender-based class who feel judged or stereotyped in some way by others outside of their class, that racism, bigotry, and sexism should not be a problem worth discussing simply because each and every one of us is guilty in some form of seeking his or her own and finding all others of some lesser worth. Rather, we should openly seek to address these in a Christlike, loving way. But we should all acknowledge our own tendency to place walls between ourselves and others of some lesser worth that we subconsciously place upon them as we recognize and dwell upon our differences.

Although even God acknowledges that He places different worth upon His creations, His sparrows and His children, and though it is natural and human for us to do the same, we should ultimately recognize the significant and divine worth of all of God's creations, be those sparrows or be those fans of a rival sports team. Though we may place lesser worth on one of these sparrows, there is a little girl named Amy out there, or a mother, a brother or sister, or a best friend of that sparrow who would take a hammer to his or her own piggy bank and sacrifice everything for the welfare of that sparrow. And when we ourselves come to recognize that worth, then we can join our Father in Heaven in loving and looking out for those sparrows.

Remember that even at lesser worth to God, no sparrow can fall to the earth without the Creator's notice and care. Might we share in that kind of love and respect for the worth of those sparrows that we encounter throughout life? Might we consider breaking open our own piggy banks and show forth increased charity towards these sparrows who are children of God and thus our brothers and sisters? Might we have a little more respect for the sanctity of life and for all of God's creations, including this incredible planet? I would love to be color blind and to not see and sense those differences between myself and those others who are not carbon copies of me. But those differences will remain. And it is up to me to look beyond them to see the true value and worth of a soul. May it be said that the worth of souls is great in the sight of this son of God and this brother of his fellow man.

God Bless!