From Hart to Hearts
A Message from Rev Linda Hart for the month of September 2011
The church had filled up with people. The mum and dad were sitting in the front row with the strapping eight month old boy in one of those very fancy push chairs. Somewhat sleepy, he was still interested in all the people around him and the high vaulted ceiling. Blessing a baby is always a joy, but there was more to this story.
The parents had been married for 9 years and for all of that time had wanted a baby. Like most couples they thought it would happen straightaway, and their lives would be enriched by the addition of a well loved child. They had all the dreams that people have about their future children: they’ll not suffer the troubles of childhood that we endured; their lives will be filled with joy and love; that our competent and consistent parenting will mean that they’ll be well mannered, interesting, committed, loving – and the list goes on for pages and pages.
As happens more often than not, their well thought out plans didn’t play out as they had hoped. Months became a year of trying without a pregnancy. They began to investigate medical assistance with the process. Beginning with simple treatments and moving into more invasive and complicated processes, they kept faith with the promise of a child in their lives. Persistence doesn’t half describe their dedication to the project of having a baby.
As I composed the words for the message of the day, I wrote these words:
In lifting up this particular joy – the joy of this child in the world and in his parents lives – in lifting it up, I want to acknowledge he has arrived after a long struggle. More than most parents, I think, these know that this life, this spirit, this amazing person is a gift to them and to the world. No amount of pleading and wishing and prayer could command his presence, no amount of faithfulness, and patience – or impatience – could bring him into being. That our children come to us by chance and by luck and by the grace of universe could not be more plainly shown than by this baby’s presence in the world.
In writing this, it occurred to me that there was more that needed to be remembered by the gathered company. Indeed I know I need to remember it, and perhaps you do too:
May it be that we remember this, and know it to be true, not only for this child, but for each of us. That we live at all is a miracle, that we breathe and move and can love and feel pain is never assured, not for a moment. Though we forget this as quick as a heartbeat, it is our common human condition. On this day, and in these moments that we are here, may we know it fully, deep into the core of our being.
Today, I encourage you to give thanks for the chance and grace by which you came into being. Look around and notice those around you: your partner, your dear friend, your child, that strange fellow you pass on the street, your grandmother, and the clerk in the neighbourhood shop. Each one has come into the world by that same grace and luck.
‘Blessed be the gift of life.’ I said as I closed the address. ‘May we ever sing praises to its glory.’
Singing praises,
Linda