In this beautiful season we rejoice in the grace of new beginnings. A young mother gives birth to a child. At last she sees the face of the little one she has carried within her for long months. She feels the warm touch of his hands as they reach for her face.
The scene is nothing out of the ordinary. It happens every day all over the world. Yet in this tender moment a new world is starting. Not only for a young family at Nazareth, but for people near and far, for generations not yet born.
This is the way God works in human history and in the human heart.
The Gospels for Christmas tell us what is happening among the rulers of the world. They report the kind of information we expect to find in a standard historical record. We are told that Quirinius is the Roman governor of Syria and Herod is the king of Judea. We are told it is the time of the imperial census decreed by Caesar Augustus.
But the world’s true ruler, the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords, is born without notice in a village so obscure it was never mentioned on any map or in any history.
The real actors in the Christmas drama are the shepherds out in the field, the wise men from the east, a carpenter and his wife and child. The kind of people whose story is of no account for the chroniclers of official history. Yet to these, the true king comes and reveals himself.
The glimpses the Gospels give us of the world of power and politics are depressingly familiar. Herod lies and schemes to secure his position and uses the full power of his office to impose his murderous will on innocent families.
We see also the skepticism and indifference of the intellectuals. The Scribes are experts in the Scriptures, but all their knowledge does not lead them to faith. They can say with confidence where the Messiah is to be born. But the possibility that he has come does not lead them to seek him.
This is the way it was with Jesus, all through his life. Many in their pride could never believe that a mere carpenter’s son could teach such doctrine and perform such marvelous deeds.
And it is still that way with Jesus. He comes quietly, in humility. He reveals himself to the simple heart that is open to him. The things of God are hidden from the wise and learned, and revealed to those with the hearts of children. To the little ones whose hearts are waiting for him.
The shepherds were keeping watch by night. And they saw the divine light surrounding them. For the one who has eyes to see, the eyes of faith, this world becomes a kind of sacrament. It is filled with signs of our Creator’s glory, with the speech of angels, and stars that guide us along our way.
Our Lord comes into our world as each one of us entered the world, vulnerable and dependent — as a child who loves and desires to be loved. And to all who receive him, he gives the power to become children of God.
The wise men received him with open hearts and gifts befitting a king — gold, frankincense and myrrh. Our beautiful Christmas custom of exchanging gifts on this feast can be traced to their example of generosity.
But the greatest gift we can give — to Jesus and to our loved ones — is our heart open to love. The gift of our presence is greater than any presents we can offer.
Christmas reveals to us how the reign of God breaks into the earthly and the ordinary. As our humanity and God’s divinity were knit together in the womb of Mary, God’s light now shines in the darkness of our everyday lives. But we need eyes to see.
Let us pray in this season of love for a renewed spirit of childhood, for hearts ready to receive the Child who comes to us, for eyes open to the glory that surrounds us.
Let us pray for hearts like the shepherds, that like them we might always long to be near the Child, and to praise God for all that he has given us.
And let us pray to be like the wise men, always open to the signs that lead us to Christ. Like them, let us come before the Child this Christmas in great joy, and on our knees worship him.
With Christmas joy in my heart, I wish to all of you a Christmas with joy and peace.