“Nativity at Night” by Italian Baroque painter Guido Reni depicts the birth of Christ in a Bethlehem manger. (CNS/Bridgeman Art Library)
On that first Christmas night the angels sang, “Peace on earth!”
As we celebrate the birth of the Prince of Peace, we are faced with a war against the Islamic State (IS), one of the most brutal and inhumane movements since the Nazis. As we celebrate the gift of God’s love made flesh for us, IS is giving flesh to a false god of hate. Like ancient Herod, they want to do away with all “competition,” and so anyone who does not believe as they do is tortured, killed and devastated.
On the first Christmas the eternal Word of God made his dwelling place among us, yet his family of modest means found itself suddenly homeless at the critical moment of his birth. So many families with children today find themselves homeless, either because of a sudden turn of luck or because of long-eroding bases of dignified work and affordable housing, or because of poor choices. Like the Holy Family, they make the best of what they have and rely on the kindness of others.
On the first Christmas the people of Israel longingly awaited a Messiah to free them from the oppression of foreign occupation, but only a select few shepherds saw a vision of angels and heard the “good news of great joy” that “a savior has been born for you who is Christ [Messiah, Anointed One] and Lord.” With all our troubles and woes, diseases and disasters, we, too, await a Messiah who will save us from all our tribulations and we open our hearts to hear angel songs of good news.
Despite signs of failure and absence that could make us very cynical about God and his promises, we are filled with joy and great faith, because we know that the Christ has already come and will come again in glory. We sing the beauty of his birth with stories and songs, lights and laughter, parties and parades. But most of all we gather in the house of God to worship the true and living God who has given us such a wonderful gift in his Son Jesus. There the Word becomes flesh in us, so that we can give flesh to God’s love in the world in which we live, working for peace, helping the homeless, and giving hope to the hopeless. There we celebrate his death and resurrection, remembering that he, too, lived in a world that treated him with inhuman cruelty, but that he loved anyway, transforming the power of death into eternal life.
It is in the Mass that the same Jesus whose birth in Bethlehem we sing, is born in the poor and sometimes dirty mangers of our hearts. It is there that he transforms beastly hearts into human hearts. It is there that the Word, who was in the beginning, who was with God, and who was God, allows us mortals to touch him and hold him, not to grasp him, but to share his unfathomable love with all the world. It is there that he strengthens us to accept our own crosses so that they can lead us and others to fullness of life. Come, let us adore him!
A Christmas filled with blessings to all!
