The Hopes and Fears of Youth and Age

I grew up in the Lehigh Valley of Pennsylvania, first settled by Moravians, German speaking Protestants from Eastern Europe suffering persecution in the 17^th and 18^th centuries.  They chose biblical names for their communities. My hometown was Emmaus, for example.  And it was a short distance from there to Bethlehem, known as “The Christmas City.”  The Moravians have many beautiful traditions and hymns for the holidays.  One of my favorite Christmas carols is “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”  One verse goes, “the hopes and fears of all the years are met in Thee tonight.”

This phrase from the carol though has always made me stop and think.  Aren’t carols supposed to be happy and celebratory?  Full of amazement and wonder?  Isn’t Christmas about love and joy?  So what are these hopes and fears all about?

Our first grandchild was born just before Christmas, which has been a delight of course. Like Jesus’ family, I suppose, we have had both hopes and fears for our precious newborn.  A week after his birth, a routine check turned into an anxious weekend in the hospital to evaluate some indeterminate symptoms that thankfully turned out to be nothing. Our son and daughter in law’s first child-induced gray hairs.  Momentary anxiety and fear for sure. Since then, to our relief, our grandson is healthy and thriving.

As grandparents, our thoughts occasionally turn to the state of the world that our grandson has entered. Not unlike the first century Roman Empire of Jesus’ day, the world suffers many intractable conflicts and stresses.  Bringing children into our times may be no less fraught than what Mary and Joseph faced long ago. In the cold of winter, I find myself contemplating many anxieties and fears for our grandson’s future.

But when I hold him and peer into his dark eyes, I am filled with wonder, too.  Maybe it’s the spirit of Christmas that still cannot be dimmed. Maybe it’s just the nature of hope.  I think of the philosopher who wrote that hope is “walking to the edge of all the light you have and taking one more step.”

We keep bringing babies into the world despite our misgivings and anxieties about the world. We keep investing in love even when it seems like a long shot.

I retired a year ago and had a few ideas how to spend my time—travel, study, consulting, and pickleball.  Now I’ve added practicing being a grandfather to my plan. As many of you know, grand parenting is among the best activities imaginable.  I recall my 70-something mother getting down on the floor to play with our infant son. She was about the age I am now, come to think of it.  I am beginning to understand now how becoming a grandparent changes our perspectives of living as well as integrating the past and the future. It inspires us to activities and energies we didn’t think possible after a certain age.

My stints of “Papa time” bring me the chance to hold this amazing new human and think about my life. New beginnings, hopes and fears.  These still meet not only in our identities as parents and grandparents, but also in our search for the Christ, the bringer of life and light to humankind.  As we age then, perhaps we are less frightened by our inchoate fears and instead, we are more likely drawn by the power of hope.  Even when we perceive the very edge of darkness, it carries us that first step further.