Recently I was asked to read a poem as part of an Advent service for a women’s organisation (https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/2016/12/15/christmas-and-the-common-birth-by-anne-ridler-2/) I enjoyed the poem, and found it thought provoking, but one unintended side-effect was some musing on the experience of Christmas as an adult who is not a parent. It felt odd to be the one reading it aloud in a room full of people, many of whom had given birth, when that isn't something I've experienced. So I thought I'd write down some thoughts in case they're helpful to anyone else.
So much of Christmas is about family. I don't mean that as a criticism, except to say we probably need to evaluate how we define ‘family.’ Sometimes even ‘stepdad’ Joseph feels like he doesn’t get much attention.
I can understand the desire to focus on family. The bible can seem heavily dominated by men and traditionally masculine themes (kingship, war, etc). Putting the focus on a woman and a child, on themes of parenthood, caring, nurturing, for a chapter or two is a good thing. Much as I dislike pigeon-holing women as carers and men as leaders, it does at least acknowledge the importance of those themes. And many of these themes continue into the stories of Jesus’ life- serving rather than ruling, healing rather than fighting, which helps to question that male- female division.
But as a woman who isn’t a mother, who isn’t in a nuclear family- where does that leave me, and others like me? Those who cannot have children. Those who may be struggling with parenthood, feeling they are failing to live up to the Marian ideal (‘no crying he makes?’ Doesn't seem likely.) What about those who have lost children, or parents, or partners, or been divorced, separated or estranged from their families? Are we just left as onlookers at the manger, audience rather than participants? Are we expected to bury our pain, or to defend ourselves against allegations of heartlessness if we don’t feel that parenthood is right for us?
When the church acknowledges the existence of single people the results can be mixed. I’ve sometimes felt very left out in ‘family’ congregations because I have little in common with them. I’m not sure anyone over 12 submits themselves to action songs because they like them! And there's an assumption that anyone who isn't married must want to be paired off as soon as possible that can be quite uncomfortable.
But as a woman who isn’t a mother, who isn’t in a nuclear family- where does that leave me, and others like me? Those who cannot have children. Those who may be struggling with parenthood, feeling they are failing to live up to the Marian ideal (‘no crying he makes?’ Doesn't seem likely.) What about those who have lost children, or parents, or partners, or been divorced, separated or estranged from their families? Are we just left as onlookers at the manger, audience rather than participants? Are we expected to bury our pain, or to defend ourselves against allegations of heartlessness if we don’t feel that parenthood is right for us?
When the church acknowledges the existence of single people the results can be mixed. I’ve sometimes felt very left out in ‘family’ congregations because I have little in common with them. I’m not sure anyone over 12 submits themselves to action songs because they like them! And there's an assumption that anyone who isn't married must want to be paired off as soon as possible that can be quite uncomfortable.
At the other extreme, a Mothering Sunday sermon I heard a few years ago attempted to tackle the issue by reminding single people that they were married to the church and that all the effort that they would have spent on a family- because obviously they had no other commitments- should really be spent on running the church. I really appreciated that the preacher was acknowledging that not everyone was a parent, that everyone was valued and had a part to play; but I could have done without the guilt trip. I’ve avoided Mothering Sunday at church since then.
So. The family aspect of Christmas is important. But it’s not all there is in the story. In fact it very quickly spreads beyond the immediate family of Mary and Joseph. First the shepherds. Later the wise men/ kings/ magi. In between, I would guess that Joseph’s wider family (Bethlehem was his hometown, after all- Luke 2) and the wider community rallied round to help these travellers and their baby. Communities usually do, when they can. And even before we reach Bethlehem we’ve seen Mary relying on her wider family- her cousin Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah- for support in the extraordinary circumstances she finds herself in (Luke 1).
What does that tell us? For a start, communities of wider family and friends are crucial. I’ve found that, having been through various bereavements, illnesses and a pandemic. A church group I’m part of has supported each other through I’ve lost track of how many family emergencies and other crises. The church family can be a wonderful thing, at its best, although it can also be a demanding one. So can other groups- amateur music/ theatre groups, for example, where there can be a range of ages and I’ve seen people take it in turns to hold a baby or stop a toddler getting trodden on while mum or dad get to do something for themselves for once.
And it reminds us that Christmas isn’t just about a small family in a stable. It’s about what that birth meant for the wider community of God’s people, and for the world. Even if the ‘family’ aspects can be hard at times, perhaps we can still celebrate that.
So. The family aspect of Christmas is important. But it’s not all there is in the story. In fact it very quickly spreads beyond the immediate family of Mary and Joseph. First the shepherds. Later the wise men/ kings/ magi. In between, I would guess that Joseph’s wider family (Bethlehem was his hometown, after all- Luke 2) and the wider community rallied round to help these travellers and their baby. Communities usually do, when they can. And even before we reach Bethlehem we’ve seen Mary relying on her wider family- her cousin Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah- for support in the extraordinary circumstances she finds herself in (Luke 1).
What does that tell us? For a start, communities of wider family and friends are crucial. I’ve found that, having been through various bereavements, illnesses and a pandemic. A church group I’m part of has supported each other through I’ve lost track of how many family emergencies and other crises. The church family can be a wonderful thing, at its best, although it can also be a demanding one. So can other groups- amateur music/ theatre groups, for example, where there can be a range of ages and I’ve seen people take it in turns to hold a baby or stop a toddler getting trodden on while mum or dad get to do something for themselves for once.
And it reminds us that Christmas isn’t just about a small family in a stable. It’s about what that birth meant for the wider community of God’s people, and for the world. Even if the ‘family’ aspects can be hard at times, perhaps we can still celebrate that.
