A baby's first birthday party: an effort by tired adults to commemorate their first year of parenthood. An exercise of celebratory futility as the baby will never remember it and only the true friends and family will even care. A reason to take lots of pictures, while the child will be more interested in what the gifts were wrapped in than the gifts themselves.
Given this attitude, the day I was handed an invitation to the first birthday party of one of my infant preschool students, I immediately dismissed it. Too tired, too busy--I didn't need to work hard to come up with persuading arguments as to why it would be a waste of my time.
Intrigued as I was by the line on the invitation that identified this party as a traditional Korean Dol party, I did not take the time to google it. It then occurred to me one day prior to the RSVP deadline that perhaps the families of these parents would not be able to attend as they may live in Korea, so I figured I would make the effort to show up with the plan of a quick departure.
Though I am usually the only redhead in most of the rooms I walk into, it felt different this time, being one of the few non-Asian guests. Not awkward, but special. I was being included into something far more significant than a baby's birthday party.
What I did not know was that the first birthday for a Korean child is a momentous occasion and can be compared to a Jewish bris without the . . . um . . . unfortunate part, or even a baby baptism or dedication.
A pastor from their Korean church led the prayer in Korean, translating it back into English for the benefit of the few. Bible passages from the book of Luke were read--the part about Simeon holding baby Jesus for the first time, saying that his eyes had seen salvation. "A light to bring revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of Your people Israel," Simeon spoke to God. A covenant child. And this Korean baby boy presented to all those whom had come to bless him was their covenant child. Hope for the future.
Prayers in various languages, perhaps even the tongues of angels, filled the room as we all stood with hands outstretched toward this baby boy. His parents' faces beamed as they stood holding him behind a table decked out with an elaborate fruit arrangement and beautiful cake. The large screen behind them played the recorded first year of his life.
While not intending to impress the people at my table with my chopstick eating skills as we enjoyed an Asian buffet, I knowingly used them at the risk of making a fool of myself in the presence of those who had developed far better skills eating with these sharpened sticks than I would ever have. We would eventually walk back over to the birthday cake table and sing happy birthday. Fortunately the Korean version seemed to match the English syllables, as it did not occur to me that we would be singing even this song differently.
The baby, then dressed in traditional ceremonial Korean attire, was placed at one end of a cloth spread on the floor in the middle of the room. On the other end objects including a judge's gavel, stethoscope, a dollar bill, small basketball, a director's wand, and a pencil were placed. It was the baby's job to crawl toward whatever item he was most attracted to, thereby symbolizing what his life may become. Though his hand touched the stethoscope first, as a couple of women standing near me pointed out, the baby reached out for the ball, perhaps the most familiar of the possible choices.
Celebrating the birth of a baby: so seemingly insignificant and yet what brought the shepherds, the wise men, and anyone else who could make it to a nondescript stable out in the middle of nowhere. A baby whose needs to be held, fed and comforted would far outweigh anything he could offer. A tiny life brought into this world by divine intervention to do great things, as the prophecy had proclaimed.
For unto us a Child is born,
Unto us a Son is given;
And the government will be upon His shoulder.
And His name will be called
Wonderful, Counselor,
Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
[Isaiah 9:6]
A miracle. Brand-new. Filled with possibilities. A covenant child.
Given this attitude, the day I was handed an invitation to the first birthday party of one of my infant preschool students, I immediately dismissed it. Too tired, too busy--I didn't need to work hard to come up with persuading arguments as to why it would be a waste of my time.
Intrigued as I was by the line on the invitation that identified this party as a traditional Korean Dol party, I did not take the time to google it. It then occurred to me one day prior to the RSVP deadline that perhaps the families of these parents would not be able to attend as they may live in Korea, so I figured I would make the effort to show up with the plan of a quick departure.
Though I am usually the only redhead in most of the rooms I walk into, it felt different this time, being one of the few non-Asian guests. Not awkward, but special. I was being included into something far more significant than a baby's birthday party.
What I did not know was that the first birthday for a Korean child is a momentous occasion and can be compared to a Jewish bris without the . . . um . . . unfortunate part, or even a baby baptism or dedication.
A pastor from their Korean church led the prayer in Korean, translating it back into English for the benefit of the few. Bible passages from the book of Luke were read--the part about Simeon holding baby Jesus for the first time, saying that his eyes had seen salvation. "A light to bring revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of Your people Israel," Simeon spoke to God. A covenant child. And this Korean baby boy presented to all those whom had come to bless him was their covenant child. Hope for the future.
Prayers in various languages, perhaps even the tongues of angels, filled the room as we all stood with hands outstretched toward this baby boy. His parents' faces beamed as they stood holding him behind a table decked out with an elaborate fruit arrangement and beautiful cake. The large screen behind them played the recorded first year of his life.
While not intending to impress the people at my table with my chopstick eating skills as we enjoyed an Asian buffet, I knowingly used them at the risk of making a fool of myself in the presence of those who had developed far better skills eating with these sharpened sticks than I would ever have. We would eventually walk back over to the birthday cake table and sing happy birthday. Fortunately the Korean version seemed to match the English syllables, as it did not occur to me that we would be singing even this song differently.
The baby, then dressed in traditional ceremonial Korean attire, was placed at one end of a cloth spread on the floor in the middle of the room. On the other end objects including a judge's gavel, stethoscope, a dollar bill, small basketball, a director's wand, and a pencil were placed. It was the baby's job to crawl toward whatever item he was most attracted to, thereby symbolizing what his life may become. Though his hand touched the stethoscope first, as a couple of women standing near me pointed out, the baby reached out for the ball, perhaps the most familiar of the possible choices.
Celebrating the birth of a baby: so seemingly insignificant and yet what brought the shepherds, the wise men, and anyone else who could make it to a nondescript stable out in the middle of nowhere. A baby whose needs to be held, fed and comforted would far outweigh anything he could offer. A tiny life brought into this world by divine intervention to do great things, as the prophecy had proclaimed.
For unto us a Child is born,
Unto us a Son is given;
And the government will be upon His shoulder.
And His name will be called
Wonderful, Counselor,
Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
[Isaiah 9:6]
A miracle. Brand-new. Filled with possibilities. A covenant child.
