Devotion for December 26

read John1:1-14

Commentary | Dr. Christine J. Hong

During Christmastime each year, I reflect on the faith of my ancestors, a faith forged in fire. I think especially about my grandparents who are no longer with me, who passed their faith down to their children and grandchildren. As internally-displaced people after the Korean war ceasefire, they built a life for their family out of nothing. Despite their faith, at times they despaired. I remember my grandmother telling me about those early days as they found their footing in a forever changed Korean peninsula. She spoke about the waves of grief that would wash over her. As they fled the northern part of the peninsula, their newborn died. She never got to say goodbye to her siblings or parents. Her younger brother was conscripted into the North Korean army, and after letters that would arrive here and there over those first years, the correspondence suddenly stopped coming and she could only assume the worst about his fate. She spoke about one episode of grief that hit her while sweeping the kitchen. Grief washed over her, and she crumpled to the floor, swallowed by it. She wanted to pray but no words would come. As she struggled, she had a vision of two giant hands open and beckoning her. She felt held by those divine hands as she moved through her grief. God did not try to remove her grief but held her through it.

When I consider my grandmother’s story during Christmastime, the testimony of her life in post-war Korea, I cannot help but also reflect on Mary, who pondered all she bore witness to in her heart. The twin feelings of relief in welcoming the healthy birth of her child, and the anguish of what was coming for him. As she held Jesus, did she also feel held by the Divine presence—a presence that held her throughout her life as she moved through joy, anticipation, terror, and grief? Surely, she was also held by the hands of her ancestors, those who knew her by name, and would help her move through what life would soon bring.