It has been several years since our family celebrated Christmas with a baby in the house. And yet this year there will be two! Ezra was born in June to our son Noah and his wife, Alyssa, and then in September Ivy Ann arrived, to the joy of our son Caleb and his wife, Laura.
Ivy arrived four weeks early, on her daddy’s birthday. And at just under five pounds, she was as tiny as her name.
When I held Ivy for the first time, she barely filled my two hands. I was touched by her frailty, her vulnerability. I saw in her the beauty and the humility of nativity. And I saw the preciousness and potential of every new life, both for now and for eternity.
Ivy’s arrival just before the holidays also brought to mind the old English Christmas carol, “The Holly and the Ivy.” Yet it made me realize that I didn’t really know what that song was about, or why it is associated with Christmas, or especially what ivy’s role is in it.
Look up the words of the song and you will find that holly symbolizes Christ in many ways, though it is Christ on the cross more than Christ in the manger. Holly’s prickly leaves remind us of Jesus’ crown of thorns. Its bright red berries remind us of Jesus’ blood, shed for our salvation. And its evergreen leaves remind us of eternal life, even during winter.
But what about ivy? Well, ivy is an evergreen too, one that also grows reassuringly in winter in many an English countryside. But ivy is a vine that depends on the structure and strength of another to grow. That’s why holly and ivy often grow together. And that’s why the old carol speaks not only of our savior, but also our blessed dependency on him.
While awaiting Ivy’s arrival, my son Caleb wrote these meditations on the name of the little girl he would soon meet:
>Ivy is strong and beautiful, able to flourish in remarkable and unlikely places.
>It can climb to amazing heights as well as cover great and immeasurable swathes of ground.
>It grows on everything and outlasts all adverse conditions that threaten to quench it.
>It grows rapidly and endlessly when connected to the true vine, bearing fruit that enriches life around it.
>Like love covering a multitude of sins, its graceful beauty covers even the ugliest ruins.
>The holly and the ivy remind us of evergreen hopes during wintery Christmastime nights safe in a warm home.
>It flowers with delightful beauty in spring, bears life-giving fruit in summer, turns gorgeously burgundy in autumn, and deepens resilient roots in winter.
>It was used to decorate wedding celebrations because of the way it cleaves to that which steadfastly abides near to it.
>It covers graffitied urban walls as well as reinvigorating the stately ruins of past glories.
>It cleanses contamination from the air and offers shelter to life that relies on its strength.
>It was chosen by a mother, admired by a father, and loved by both, then loved by countless others as it grew and grew.
The holly and the ivy grow together, encouraging us in the wintery times of our lives and reminding us of Jesus, especially at Christmas. And my new granddaughter now reminds me that I am the ivy and not the holly. I only have life and growth and purpose because of that Christmastime baby who grew up to wear a crown of thorns, and to shed his blood, so that I could live forever with him.
Nate Adams is executive director of the Illinois Baptist State Association.