The most poignant moment in the Christmas Story for me has always been at the end, when Mary “kept these things close and pondered them in her heart.”

What all did Mary hold close in those moments? What all did Mary ponder in the great wisdom of her mother’s heart in those moments of stillness after her great labor of bringing this extraordinary new life into the world?

Mary, from what the Gospel stories tell of her, was a wise and long-sighted soul, sustained by great faith and great love.

She knew she was bringing this tender new life into a dangerous world during tumultuous times. She knew that her love for this child committed her to being there for him and loving him through all that life in this world may bring.

Mary held these things close and pondered them in her heart.

In her commitment of love for her child, as we know, she would be there for him at the beginning, and she would be there for him at the end, when everyone else had abandoned him to his painful fate. We know that her commitment of love also meant that very early in Jesus’ life, Mary and Joseph would have to flee with him as refugees to a foreign land and rely for survival on the generosity and hospitality of strangers, in order to protect this child from the violence and vengeance of the tyrant who ruled their land.

Mary held these things close and pondered them in her heart.

Mary knew as well the blessedness of this child, blessed and given by the Holy Creator to represent a very different kind of power in the world, a holy power for a holy life, that would bring him to embody nothing less than the Love Supreme, the Love Supreme that seeks out and embraces the least, and the last, and the lost … which means us all … and invites us to ultimate fulfillment in the glory of the Universal Love of God.

Mary held these things close and pondered them in her heart. 

When Mary held close the little body of her baby, she must have beheld the newborn’s innocence and vulnerability, as well as fierce life-force. And Jesus had a fierce life-force, a prophetic power similar to what the Hebrew Prophet Jeremiah described as a “fire locked up in the bones.” We are told that when Mary first learned she was pregnant, the mystery of what all it could mean overflowed through heart and she sang out to God with a vision:

“My soul exalts the Holy One, my spirit rejoices in God who sets me free …”. She sang of God’s compassion. And she sang of God’s power, that “scatters the proud of heart, overthrowing the mighty, uplifting the humble, loading the hungry with good things and sending the rich away empty.”

Mary felt the prophetic fire that Jesus would also carry. She had some big dreams for this child, dangerous dreams.

Mary held these things close and pondered them in her heart.

This was a child whose purpose was love, the greatest of love, an overwhelming and overflowing love,

the kind of love that causes great upheaval,

the kind of love that would lead him to seek the deliverance of all who suffer,

the kind of love that would lead him to those who are the most vulnerable, who bear the brunt of human bitterness and brokenness, violence and neglect,

the kind of love that would lead him to become one with “the least of these,” so that whatsoever we do to others we do to him

the kind of love that would lead him to demand we see nothing less than the image of God in each and every one.

the kind of love that confronted head on all the forces that would deny and destroy that belovedness in others … the kind of love that would suffer the pain of that confrontation, while showing the ultimate triumph of eternal life.

Mary held these things close and pondered them in her heart.

What all did she know, what all did she feel when she held her baby, who she knew was destined to embody the beauty of Divine love in a world that can be so broken and brutal?

I imagine that while she felt and pondered all these things, knowing through them nothing less than the presence of God, Mary wept tears of joy.

In the First Nations Version of the Christmas Story we heard, isn’t it striking that Mary is called “Bitter Tears”? In Hebrew “Miriam” appears to have its roots in a combination of the words for “Bitter” and “Salt Water.” Hence “Bitter Tears.” Through the years, scholars have pointed this out and lots of folks have found it to be meaningful. There have been sermons preached about how the meaning of Mary’s name tells how she, in the love and strength of her heart, did not run from the pain that her son would endure in the course of embodying his gospel of universal love. She did not run from that heartbreaking reality, as everyone else did, but rather bore witness to Jesus’ suffering and embraced him through it with her great mother’s heart.

But were her tears bitter? I think she knew too much of love and of God for her tears to be bitter.

“Miriam” before it was a Hebrew name was originally an Egyptian name. In Egyptian, “Miriam” means “Beloved.”

“Beloved.” If we hold the Egyptian meaning along with the Hebrew, I propose we call Mary, not “Bitter Tears,” but rather “Tears of Love.”

When Mary – “Tears of Love” – held her newborn baby, and held all these things close and pondered them in her heart, I do imagine she wept … tears of joy. “Tears of Love” wept tears of joy.

Like so many mothers and fathers and families before her and since, when Mary held and beheld her baby, she wept tears of joy. We know she felt great joy, overwhelming joy, along with an apprehension of the great danger to which Jesus’ life-purpose would expose him. “My spirit rejoices in God who sets me free.” 

So, we sing of joy at Christmastime: “Let this weary world rejoice,” in the words of the great abolitionist hymn “Holy Night.”  This is a tears of joy kind of joy.

This kind of joy is not merely the opposite of sadness. This kind of joy is big enough to embrace pain and bear witness to tragedy, especially on behalf of those we love, and the love we have for this world, while seeing deeply enough to know that, despite it all, life cries out again and love endures. 

We weep tears of joy when a baby is born. We weep tears of joy when two people commit to the love they share. We weep tears of joy when a great struggle is finally won.

We weep tears of joy because the beauty of the moment is more than our hearts can bear. We weep tears of joy because birth pains have somehow brought forth new life. We weep tears of joy because we feel the presence of those who have come before in the great movement of love whose cause we carry into the future. We weep tears of joy for the great love and deep gratitude and wide new horizons of possibility that are born anew.

We weep tears of joy for the liberating truth of what Howard Thurman – that wise and long-sighted soul – said about the meaning of Christmas: “that however dark the moment or the days may be, the redemptive impulse of God is ever present in human life.”

Mary held these things close and pondered them in her heart, weeping tears of joy.  

Thanks be to God.

Delivered Christmas Eve, 2024, at the United Church of Christ at Valley Forge, by Rev. Nathaniel Mahlberg. You can view the video here.