I said the dove, from the rafters high

I cooed Him to sleep so He would not cry

We cooed Him to sleep, my love and I

I said the dove, from the rafters high

-Lyrics from The Friendly Beast Song

In Luke 2:21-40 we read of the encounter of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus with Anna and Simeon (Read last year’s Advent Encounters: Anna and Simeon ). Mary and Joseph are on their way to offer a sacrifice, a common sacrifice of the day. One that was necessary after giving birth. In Leviticus 12:8 we learn that for those who can not afford a lamb two doves are an appropriate substitute.

If there was any question of the humbleness of our Savior’s birth, if there was any doubt as to the status of the family Christ was born into, it is removed here. His parents could not afford the ritual burnt offering and offered up the substitute instead.

Perhaps the author of The Friendly Beast placed these two doves into the song because of the impending sacrifice spoken of in Luke 2:24. A sacrifice that pointed towards the one this baby would make 30 odd years later. It seems fitting to find them in the nativity, gathered around the Christ child with the other animals who though no one else had room for him offered up what little they had: the cow his trough of hay, the sheep his wool, the donkey his back. This baby would come to be known as a shepherd to his followers, his caregivers are there nurturing and loving this child intrusted to them, the angels and star are proclaiming his birth to all who have eyes to see and ears to hear, and the wise men come with gifts fortelling his death. The dove is more like the wise men I think. Pointing to the promise of sacrifice and peace. Often when we speak of peace it is because we are in the midst of suffering.

Doves are seen throughout scripture. They are sacrifices in Leviticus, they are hope in the midst of storms, they are lovers in Song of Solomon, they are the voice of those who mourn, and they are promises fulfilled. Verses in Genesis describe the dove that Noah sends out from the ark, and in John, the Holy Spirit “descends like a dove” from heaven.

In Genesis 8 we read “1But God remembered Noah and all the beasts and all the livestock that were with him in the ark. And God made a wind blow over the earth, and the waters subsided…

8Then he (Noah) sent forth a dove from him, to see if the waters had subsided from the face of the ground. 9But the dove found no place to set her foot, and she returned to him to the ark, for the waters were still on the face of the whole earth. So he put out his hand and took her and brought her into the ark with him. 10He waited another seven days, and again he sent forth the dove out of the ark. 11And the dove came back to him in the evening, and behold, in her mouth was a freshly plucked olive leaf. So Noah knew that the waters had subsided from the earth. 12Then he waited another seven days and sent forth the dove, and she did not return to him anymore.” (ESV)

The whole earth was flooded, everything living on it was drowned, yet Noah and his family remained. They were waiting for the storm to pass.

Ever since Noah, the dove with the olive branch has come to be a symbol of peace. The funny thing about peace is we only look for it in the midst of struggle. Noah wasn’t on a pleasure cruise, his family had just witnessed the destruction of mankind, of their friends, their extended family, their neighbors, everyone and everything. Then they sat in a boat, tossed by the storm and waited. It is often in the waiting we begin to believe we are forgotten so we ask for signs that God’s promises are real. Noah’s dove was the promise of peace after the storm, of dry land when none could be seen.

In the New Testament, when the Holy Spirit descends as a dove we are given this imagery again of hope and peace. Christ did not come into a sanitized clean world where angels sang of his every movement. He was not sheltered from pain or suffering. He was born into an occupied land to the poorest of the poor and shared his birthing bed with farm animals. He was hunted by a king for slaughter, rejected by those closest to him, and hung on a cross for sins He did not commit.

Blessing rarely comes in the packages we anticipate. In the moment we cannot always see the light shining through the darkness but that does not mean it is not there.

During the holidays there are blaring inconsistences of peace and war, giving and selfishness, love and loneliness, a St. Nicholas who throws punches, and a child who was born to die. Finding joy and keeping a heart filled with compassion are difficult tasks at times. In the midst of divorce, broken dreams, loneliness, and death it sometimes feels impossible to breath.

God often asks the impossible. God also delivers the impossible.

Advent is a season where we hold in tension these inconsistences.

Advent is about hope filled anticipation and preparation for a Savior who loved us enough to enter our crazy and offer us peace.

The peaceful scene of a manger on our mantel is often surrounded by a donkey, sheep, and cows. The friendly beasts stand closer, eye level to the manger as the holy family, wise men, shepherds and angels look down into the manger. A donkey who carried the mother to the stable, the sheep whose night in the field was abruptly interrupted, and the cow who has lost his dinner trough all marvel at the child who has come to save mankind.

The scenes on our mantels are both a condensed and elaborated telling of the nativity. They cram three years into one night and add characters creatively placed for dramatic effect.

One character is left out. Herod is missing. In this story Herod stands in contrast to the dove.

The birth of our Savior, the nativity scene, is filled with joy and pain. Of suffering and a promised peace.

Mattew 2:18, NIV “A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.”

With news from the Magi of a king’s birth Herod felt threatened and ordered the death of every male child 2 and under in and around Bethlehem. Jesus was spared. Joseph was told to run. His neighbors were not.

This broken world was entered by a baby. This baby did not grow into a man immune from tragedy. Jesus lived in an occupied land, and He knew what it was to be misunderstood and rejected by those closest to Him. Jesus wept at the graveside of a friend and prayed on the eve of His crucifixion that the cup of suffering be taken from Him. And yet it wasn’t. But His story … His birth, death, and resurrection ushered in the fulfillment of our hope. The Messiah had come and given us a place at the table.

We are not promised that in this world there will be no pain. We are asked to do the impossible. We are asked to trust a God who asks us to be still, to remain, to hold on to the hope of His coming salvation in the midst of tragedy. In the aftermath of Sandy Hook and San Bernardino we are told to love our neighbor as our self. We look for peace. In a world filled with Herods we are told to not live in fear.

For every Herod there are shepherds who answer the call of angels to sit with a newborn baby and His family. For every Herod there are wise men who search years for truth bearing lavish gifts to bless others with. For every Herod there is a drummer boy using the small talents he has to bring moments of joy. For every Herod there are a multitude of people filling the night skies with joy. For every Herod there is a dove reminding us of God’s promises.

One of my earliest memories was of a dove. I was 4 and praying for a pet bird. One day we were in the backyard grilling, or my dad was and I was underfoot, when a dove landed on his shoulder and instantly became a member of our family. My sister and I named her Snow White. My mother remembers her as a noisy member of the family and a lesson to her girls early on that God answers prayer.

Three weeks ago and two days, a friend from high school was killed in a car accident. It was one of those deaths that just punches you in the gut. His life was good, so good. Loving family, successful career, beautiful children and then he was just gone. His father posted the following this past week on facebook as tornados threatened Arkansas, “As I sit on my deck this morning having my quiet time a ‘dule of doves’ sat on a near by tree. I was amazed at how peaceful they were in the midst of the storm that was passing through. It reminded me of the peace that only God can give during the storms of life! It is a peace the world cannot give and cannot take away!! John 14:27 ‘Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.’”

Today, I leave you his words and John 14:27. May you find peace for your broken heart, may you be blessed as you mourn, may you look towards the hope that Christ’s sacrifice has given us. May the dove of peace go before you.