What We Hold

What We Hold
Preached at St. Anne’s Episcopal Church – Tifton, Georgia
Isaiah 9:2-7 Luke 2:1-14

One of the most important things anyone ever said to me when I was still training to be a pastor was this:

“Honey, whatever that is you’re doin’, you gotta put it down and come hold this baby.”

“What?”

“Put it down, and come hold this baby.”

I was a brand new chaplain-intern at Children’s National Medical Center in Washington, D.C.

I was all of 24 years old, just two years out of college.nI had just arrived and been told that the floor I would be covering was the neonatal intensive care unit. I knew nothing.

So there I was on my first day. My starchy white shirt. My coat and tie. My shiny new plastic badge. A clipboard in my hands and a clueless expression on my face.

I had no idea what I was doing as I stood watching those nurses tending those babies who were fighting for their very lives.

So, I did what any of us would do: I tried my best to look very busy and very important.

But it wasn’t working—not on this nurse.

“Honey,” she said, “whatever that is you’re doin’, you gotta put it down and come hold this baby.”

“What?”

“Put it down, and come hold this baby.”

Before I knew it, she had physically yanked the clipboard from my hands, spun me around by my shoulders, popped me down into a rocking chair, and placed a baby right into my arms.

“There,” she said. “If you’re gonna be that baby’s chaplain, that’s what he needs you to do.”

“Uh okay,” I said, “But what else am I supposed to do?”

“Nothing!” she said. “There’s nothing else you can do. You just hold him. And love him, And pray.”

Turns out, she was right. A huge part of how I learned to be a pastor

was by holding babies in a hospital wing for an entire summer. The thing is, when you’re holding a baby, there really isn’t much else you can do.

We’ve come up with all kinds of ingenious ways to try to get around that: baby wraps, baby slings, but when you’re holding a baby, there’s not much else you can do . . . except just hold it, and love it, and pray. The baby can’t do much else either. The two of you just sort of . . . melt into one another. You just sort of . . . exist . . . together.

So, maybe—just maybe— that’s why you’re reading this.

I don’t know your business; I don’t know why you’re reading this but you are reading this to hold the Baby. He is the One who has compelled you to this page.

But be forewarned, reading this comes at great cost. To hold this Baby— this Jesus whom we proclaim here— means you are going to have to put some things down. When you hold this Baby, nothing else matters. Everything else falls away. When you hold this Baby, the warriors must put down their tramping boots and all their garments rolled in blood.
The oppressors must put down their rods.
The emperors must put down their censuses.
The shepherds must put down their staffs.
The judges must put down their gavels.
The bankers must put down their calculations.
The farmers must put down their plows.
The surgeons, their scalpels.
The journalists, their pens.
The scholars, their books.
The janitors, their brooms.
The interns, their clipboards.
All of us, must put down our egos.

When we hold this Baby— when we hold this Jesus— everything else must fall away: our distractions, our ambitions, our rights, our wrongs, our hurts, our grievances . . .our power...

“Whatever that is you’re doin’, you gotta put it down and come hold this baby.”

But here’s the final twist. Here’s the insane grace of it all. For all that you and I have to lay aside to hold this Baby, He has already gone first.

JESUS already laid it all down so HE could come here as a baby — as a man who would die for you to save your soul.

So whatever that is you’re doing, put it down so you can Hold the Baby.

You just hold Him. And love Him. And pray.