Lully Lulla

Something I like about the Western Christmas tradition is how many Christmas carols are lullabies. Silent Night and Away in a Manger are definitely written in the style of a lullaby, and there are ones I know of in French, German and Dutch as well. Some are actual lullabies not addressed to the Christ child but to some mother's baby as she reflects on the birth of Christ.

Maybe it's because I am nursing my second child this Christmas, that I notice these things. And I wonder, these folk carols that have come down to us through many generations, were they written by clergy to bring the message of the incarnation home to average folk--those nursing and caring for infants? Or were they written by the women themselves--woven out of the already existing nursery melodies and the readings and hymns they heard in Church?

Or was it just the fact of the Baby Jesus himself that inspired the young men and the old bards to compose songs like this?

Whatever the case, there is something about singing my baby to sleep that can feel like one of the most sacred moments in my life as a mother. However much my baby screams, fusses, squirms, poops, or spits up when awake, in this moment I can reflect on the Eternity present in the tiny soul resting in my arms, and on the mystery of my Lord born in this same way of a woman.

Some of the lullabies mention Herod's slaughter of the innocents, and while this might seem gruesomely out of place, there is a sense in which all lullabies are bittersweet, and have a dark undertone. I comfort my babies, making them feel utterly safe and loved, and yet I know that the world outside my home, my arms (and even within my arms--the darkness of my own soul!) is a dark and dangerous place, marred by sin and death.

I just went to my two year old son who woke up with a bad dream, and stroking his head found myself whispering--it's all right. Everything is all right. And I caught myself wondering, But is it?

And this is the joy, for me, of anticipating Christmas. Because it is! Light in the darkness. God made flesh. The Lord is Come! Emmanuel! He has put on our flesh to restore the fallen image, to save us from sin and death.

It is a special thing to contemplate and celebrate the Feast of the Nativity as a mother of young children. These little, squalid, Wonders.

And we say, "How can this be?..."

"My cup overflows..."

Matthew and I have been reading the remarkable story of Mother Gavrilia (1897-1992), "The Ascetic of Love."

Throughout her diverse travels and various places of service: podiatrist in England and Greece during WWII, Physiotherapist in India working with lepers, as spiritual guide to many as a nun and public speaker (to name only a few of the different things she did), her humility and constant love for all who came her way were evident.

In a letter to a friend in 1955 she wrote:

The more time goes by, the more I understand why the Lord gave me such an outstanding mother. Because for me she was Love and nothing else. This is why I can love everybody and everything. I never had to make an effort for that and to this day I do not.

Reading about her life and attitude to life, I become painfully aware of how constantly I judge: myself, others, even God. I am so busy fretting about what is not right with the world, that I do not see the other.

I learned such important lessons in the work I was given this last year with people who have disabilities. Many of them are defined and described in the field by the "behaviours" they have--"behaviours" being rather distressing jargon for socially unacceptable or negative behaviour. I could never get quite used to using that system of seeing them. I saw cries for love and affection, for understanding, for attentiveness to their being. I saw protests against insecurity, indignity, and indifference.

I saw that Love manifested as listening, respect, time taken, personal vulnerability and honesty towards them, and freedom to make their own choices tended to "improve" these "behaviours" far more successfully than "behaviour protocols" manifested as "warning", "consequence," "reinforcement" etc...

Many of the people I had the privilege of getting to know had spent much of their lives (sometimes including their infancy) in institutions, where personal attention, committed relationships, individuality, privacy, agency, personal voice were minimized necessarily for the sheer pragmatic purpose of preventing chaos in a mass-living situation.

I was able to easily forgive, overlook, tolerate, and bear these "behaviours" which seemed to stem so clearly from the lack of absolute love and security for such a large part of their lives.

I have a reason for telling you this.

I have apparently not actually learned anything at all. Back to Mother Gavrilia's words:

The more time goes by, the more I understand why the Lord gave me such an outstanding mother. Because for me she was Love and nothing else. This is why I can love everybody and everything. I never had to make an effort for that and to this day I do not.

What I learned working in the homes of the people I supported, and in visiting the institutions they came from has not translated into the rest of my life. I do not look at the people around me, my friends, fellow parishioners, family members, my husband, strangers on the street, at the store, --people who complain, who get angry and frustrated, who are rude to me and others, who are impatient, intolerant, quick to jump to conclusions, unwilling to listen or compromise, violent, offensive, selfish, or thoughtless--with the same love, patience and perception which Mother Gavrilia exemplifies and which I strove for in the work I did.

What I have failed to recognize is that we have all grown up in institutions. We have all been deprived of the perfect and complete love of God for which we were made because we were raised amongst broken and malfunctioning human hearts just like the ones we ourselves possess. All of us. To varying degrees. We have grown up in the Institution that is this wounded world.

What Mother Gavrilia is saying is that the love we have been given enables us in turn to love.
Lovelessly I judge those who do not love. When what I could be doing is loving them...adding a small drop to their cup which, given enough drops may one day overflow into the world somewhere else however unlikely it may seem that someone so fearful and bitter and hurt could love...

As my belly grows with the child inside me I am profoundly impressed with the opportunity I'm being given to offer one person Love as completely as I am able, by God's mercy, and the profound effect it will have on this person's ability to love and forebear in future the many people they will meet and the manifold suffering this world will allow them. This little one will be born with a cup in its heart which I will instinctively and naturally desire to fill to overflowing...

Thank God for the instinctive natural part of being a mother...it gives a sinner like me such a head start!

The Lord is my Shepherd
I shall not want
He makes me to lie down in green pastures
He leads me beside still waters
He restores my soul

He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake
Even though I walk through the valley of the Shadow of Death
I fear no evil
for You are with me
Your rod and your staff,
they comfort me

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies
You anoint my head with oil
My cup overflows

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life
And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.


This psalm has become my theme, my meditation during this, my first pregnancy, and my preparation for parenthood.

The Lord is leading me, has led me, beside still waters. He has restored, is restoring my soul. I feel endlessly grateful for the bountiful love both Matthew and I received as children from our parents and how much it is already enabling us to prepare to love our own little one.

I feel surrounded by the love of my husband, my parents, close friends, and our church as this child grows and prepares to be born, as I grow and prepare to be reborn a mother. Unaccountably when I read "I shall not want", "He restores my soul" and "You anoint my head with oil" I feel that they are true of me right now. And I know that this love and security will be my comfort when I do walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, when God leads me in paths of Righteousness where I am challenged to grow and to obey Him, when I am given opportunities to suffer for His sake.



I don't think it's just a matter of being able to love because I have been loved, or am being loved, by others. I think I also have a choice to open myself now to God's love; to trust, to know in faith that it is flowing to me

To sit at the table He has prepared for me, though many trials and much darkness surrounds me

And to stay there, knowing that His goodness and love does follow me and will follow me

As I begin to overflow and am compelled to direct that overflowing to those around me, to the little one inside me.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
Teach me to love!