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The
story is told of a priest who spent the two months of November and
December preparing his Christmas homily. By Christmas Eve, his
masterpiece was complete. But, the priest was feeling rather nervous
and anxious. So, as had become his custom in such
circumstances, the priest took a wee
dram of single malt scotch whiskey to calm his nerves and dull the
anxiety. “Well, since
this in a very important homily,” the priest said to himself, “I
think I’ll take a second wee dram…and then a third.” Feeling a wee
bit more relaxed, the priest proceeded from his study to his bedroom to
get dressed for Mass.
When the priest returned to his study, he couldn’t find his
Christmas homily. He began searching for it on the desktop, in the
desk’s drawers, and on the bookshelves. But, his homily was nowhere
to be found. The priest even began rummaging through the waste
paper basket. This went on for almost one-half hour and the priest
was increasingly becoming frantic. “It’s almost time for Christmas Eve Mass,”
the priest said to himself. He very much feared delivering his
Christmas Eve homily without having the text right there in front of him.
In
this state of near desperation, the priest lifted his eyes to
heaven, clasped his hands together, and prayed: “Dear Lord, please
help me find my homily. If you do, I promise I will never drink
another drop of single malt scotch whiskey before Mass...ever.”
Lowering his eyes, behold! Right there in front of
him, staring the priest in the eyes—as if through a miracle of God—there was his Christmas Eve
homily! Filled with excitement, the priest immediately lifted his eyes to heaven,
clasped his hands together, and said, “Never mind, Lord. I’ve found it
myself.”
G.K.
Chesterton once called Christmas a “sacred jest,” meaning that
Christmas is a quick, playful joke that brings opposites together in
a quite unexpected way. For example, the priest's eagerness for God
to perform a miracle, yet his unwillingness to give up single malt
scotch whiskey. This is a jest because as we laugh—or at least, as
we smile—we tacitly admit that we recognize similar contradictions
in our own lives.
For
Chesterton, Christmas brings together the greatest of all opposites:
the Almighty God who lives in freedom in the timelessness of
eternity, yet binds himself to a specific time and place; the God
who is pure light, yet enters the world of darkness; the unchanging
God who takes on changing human flesh; the Almighty who surrenders
his power to become a helpless infant; to people who live in
the darkness caused by their own self-chosen sin, God brings the
light of redemption; and, for people who expect to have to pay for
gifts in some way or another, God’s gift is freely given to those
who accept it. For Chesterton, Christmas is the greatest jest
of all—a sacred jest—not only because it unites opposites in an
unexpected way and enables us to recognize similar contradictions in
our own lives but also, and more importantly, as the jest challenges
us to change how we live.
We
appreciate the sacred jest of Christmas when we see how foolish it
is to imitate those whose worldly exploits are featured each week in
People magazine but, instead, as we dedicate ourselves
instead to listen to God in Scripture and in prayer. We appreciate
the jest of Christmas as we decide to live well not by watching and
longing to be like those whose lives are chronicled in Robin Leach’s
“Lives of the Rich and Famous”—the billionaires of the world
and the powerful titans of industry and government—but, instead, as
we imitate the generous, the kind, the loving—those saints who teach
us the art of living well, especially in difficult times. We
appreciate the jest of Christmas when realize the heresy of
relativism—“it’s okay and I can do it because everybody else is
doing it”—and we decide instead to pattern our lives according to
the values and principles founded upon God’s truth as this is
revealed in Scripture and Church teaching.
When we appreciate the sacred jest of Christmas by seeing the
opposites present in our lives, we laugh—or at least smile—at
ourselves and the jest beckons us to transform how we live.
During a television interview a couple of summers back, Pope
Benedict XVI spoke about how laughing at ourselves can be
transformative. He commented: “Humor is very important to me. I'm
not one for making many jokes, but life shouldn't be taken too
seriously. There is an old saying: ‘angels can fly because they know
how to take themselves lightly’.”
What does Pope Benedict XVI mean when he says to take ourselves
lightly so that we can fly like angels?
When we appreciate the “sacred jest” called Christmas, we discover
that we should live somewhere “in between” earth and heaven. Yes,
we are flesh and each of us has been created from the dust of
earth. But we also are spirit, the very life of God breathed into
us when God created us. When we finally understand that our true
happiness is not found in the things of the earth, we can let go of
all those things that weigh us down. Then, slowly and perhaps
almost imperceptibly at first, we leave the things of earth behind
as heaven unites with earth—in the same way that heaven united with
earth on that very first Christmas—as God makes his dwelling place
within us.
If
the sacred jest called Christmas can cause us to laugh, or at least
smile, at ourselves we are well on our way to knowing the unique and
unrepeatable purpose in all of human history for which God created us.
This
is what happened to Dawn Eden who wrote the book The Thrill of
the Chaste.
Dawn grew up in New York City, aware that she had a Jewish heritage,
but eventually became an agnostic. Many of her days were
filled with loneliness and frustration, so Dawn sought companionship
wherever she could find it. The total number of one‑night
stands even Dawn can’t recount much less all of the names of
her one-night “stand ins.”
Even so, Dawn possessed an inexplicable
curiosity about the most famous Jew of all—Jesus. She had read all
of the gospels and considered Jesus a good person but, in October
1999, everything in her life suddenly changed. How? Dawn had this
overwhelming and overpowering realization that Jesus is more than a mere human being,
a good guy. No, she was absolutely convinced, this is God’s
only begotten Son!
In
The Thrill of the Chaste, Dawn describes her experience as
she turned her back on her past and now tried to live as Jesus taught
his disciples to live. She candidly admits that she continues to
feel lonely and frustrated sometimes, but now it is different.
Instead of hooking up with another guy to anesthetize her feelings
of loneliness and frustration, Dawn writes, “I’ve realized that
there is a difference between the loneliness and frustration I feel
now and the kind I felt from my teens through my early thirties,
before I had faith. Back then, I believed that life was a joke, and
the joke was on me. Now, I realize that life indeed is a joke—and
I’m in on it.”
Dawn gets the
sacred jest! And, so can every one of us.
Chesterton reminds us that Christmas is not about the celebration of
an historical birth. Instead, it’s a sacred jest through which
God uses what is most insignificant to achieve what is most
significant. And so it is in the event we celebrate on Christmas
day: God’s birth as a helpless infant in Bethlehem. And so it is in
the Mass we celebrate on Christmas day: God uses the most ordinary
bread and wine to communicate his divine life to us.
“The Word has become flesh and made his dwelling amongst us.” When
this sacred jest—what we call “Christmas”—causes us to laugh or at
least to smile at ourselves, we are well on our way to “flying like
the angels” and in making sense out of our lives as God makes his
dwelling place in us. He is Emmanuel, the God who
is with us.
A very brief commercial
break...
As
Catholics, the way we celebrate the Incarnation can be a time of
spiritual renewal for families. Building upon the family's
preparations for Christ's coming during the four weeks of Advent, what
family members do together on Christmas day can strengthen the bonds
of love, encourage solidarity, and overcome the divisions caused by
sin that have weakened family members and the family unit. For Catholic families, let me suggest
four very practical ways to celebrate Christmas day:
1.
Set up a Nativity scene. During the 13th century, St.
Francis of Assisi popularized the Nativity scene.
Christmas day is the day for the Baby Jesus to be placed in the
manger. Early on Christmas morning, gather the family around
the Nativity scene and have the youngest child place the Baby Jesus
in the manger. After this is completed, have the family
members join hands and sing one verse of "O Come All Ye Faithful."
2.
Attend Mass. The celebration of "Christ's Mass" on
Christmas day as a family is the moment toward which all of our
Advent preparations have brought us. In
the Eucharist, Jesus Christ—the
Incarnate word of God—becomes one with us. When family members
participate together in the celebration of the Eucharist by uniting
their hearts and minds in God, Jesus
Christ will unite the family in his body and blood, dwelling in them.
2.
Exchange gifts. On Christmas day, God gives the world His
only begotten Son. The exchange of gifts of Christmas day is
one way that we can echo God's greatest of gifts. Before opening gifts,
gather the family together and have the oldest child read the
narrative found in the Gospel of Matthew where the Magi travel from
afar to bring their finest gifts to the newborn king.
As family members exchange each gift, have the gift-giver say "Merry
Christmas, Peace be with you." In response, have the recipient
say, "Thanks be to God!"
3. Let
the lights shine. As the Christmas meal is to begin,
gather the family members and guests around the dinner table before
each person sits down to eat.
Have one family member place a white Christmas candle in the middle
of the Advent wreath located in the center of the table. Then,
as another member of the family lights the candle, a parent reads
aloud the first chapter of the Gospel of John, announcing that all
of the family members are "children of the light."
Conclude by singing one verse of "Silent Night, Holy Night."
4. Don't
forget the feast! Sharing a meal is a universal symbol
that expresses care, love, and solidarity. On Christmas day,
the meal is should be festive, a way for the people gathered around
the table to express their joy in the coming of Jesus
Christ. Inviting relatives, friends, and those who are alone
to share in this feast is a particularly apt symbol of our communion
as God's children
By
participating in these four practical activities on Christmas
day, Catholic families will not only have thanked God for the gift
of His only begotten Son and welcomed Jesus Christ into
their lives and home.
In addition, they will have experienced God present and active in
their lives and home. Then, in the days that follow, these
activities will continue to strengthen and nourish the family and
its members to bring Christ
to the world.
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HOMILY
