{"id":58711,"date":"2021-12-22T18:04:47","date_gmt":"2021-12-23T00:04:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/praytellblog.com\/?p=58711"},"modified":"2021-12-28T01:08:03","modified_gmt":"2021-12-28T07:08:03","slug":"ars-praedicandi-christmas-eve-c-ed-foley","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/praytellblog.com\/index.php\/2021\/12\/22\/ars-praedicandi-christmas-eve-c-ed-foley\/","title":{"rendered":"Ars Praedicandi:<\/i> Christmas Eve (C), Ed Foley"},"content":{"rendered":"

by Fr. Edward Foley, Capuchin<\/em><\/p>\n

Although the church teaches that
\nthe most important feast of the year is Easter,
\nnot Christmas,
\nand the traditional “mystery of faith” that we chant is
\n‘Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again,’
\nnot ‘Christ was born, Mary was present, Joseph stood
\noff to the side.’
\nWe don’t sing carols at Pentecost
\nor set up Shrines for the feast of Christ the King
\nor have midnight mass on the parish’s patronal feast,
\nyet at Christmas we do it all.<\/p>\n

So why do we expend such energy on this feast
\nand celebrate it so lavishly?<\/p>\n

While there are many reasons,
\nfor me, the central one is that this feast
\ncelebrates the most comforting and yet shocking
\naspect of Christian revelation: God\u2019s humanity.<\/p>\n

We expect God to be divine and be almighty
\nand so we have plenty of divinity centered feasts
\ncelebrating God’s omnipotence:
\nEaster, Ascension,
\nChrist the King and the Transfiguration.<\/p>\n

But in the whole of the Christian year
\nwe only have two great Christological feasts
\nwhich seem more focused on the humanity of God:
\nChristmas – when God\u2019s humanity is refracted in a cr\u00e8che –
\nand Good Friday – when God\u2019s humanity is refracted on a cross.<\/p>\n

It doesn\u2019t take a rocket scientist
\nto help the preacher figure out
\nthat we prefer the cr\u00e8che over the cross.<\/p>\n

This is a feast where through images of mother and child,
\nangels and swaddling clothes,
\nwe glimpse something not only of the commitment,
\nbut of the affection that God must have for us.
\nWe taste something of the passion
\nthat God must feel for us.
\nWe glimpse something of the communion
\nthat God longs for with us.<\/p>\n

And the secret gospel here
\nis that, if God can have such affection – such passion for us –
\nmaybe we can learn such affection, even passion for God.
\nAnd those whom God so loves.<\/p>\n

This is at once the great treasure of this feast
\nand its unmet challenge.
\nFor while God has united with humanity,
\nGod is still waiting for humanity’s journey to the divine
\nin a world where there is too much violence,
\nwhere too many people lack basic human needs
\nand upholding the dignity of all
\ntoo often seems like unwelcome mythology.<\/p>\n

In 1994 two US educators were hired
\nby the Russian Dept. of education
\nto teach morals and ethics based on biblical principles.<\/p>\n

Among other venues, they taught in one orphanage
\nwhere they related the nativity story to about 100 orphans.
\nEach child was then given 3 pieces of cardboard
\nto make a manger
\nwith napkins shreds for straw
\nand an image of the baby cut from felt.<\/p>\n

The kids were busy assembling their mangers
\nwhen the educators discovered that 6-year-old Misha<\/a>
\nhad a manger with two babies in it.<\/a>
\nWhen he was asked why,
\nhe accurately retold the story he had heard
\nuntil he got to the placing of Jesus in the manger.<\/p>\n

Then he began to ad-lib
\nsaying that Jesus looked at him and
\nasked Misha if he had a place to stay.
\nBut Misha had no mother or father, and no place to stay
\nso Jesus then said he could stay with him.
\nBut Misha, remembering the wise men,
\nhad no gift to give Jesus, but asked him:
\n\u201cif I kept you warm is that be enough?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jesus said it was the best gift anyone had offered him
\nso Misha said he got into the manger
\nand Jesus told him he could stay with him always.<\/p>\n

The educators then write that Misha\u2019s eyes brimmed with tears
\nand sobbed as he had found someone
\nwho would never abandon him,
\nwho would stay with him always.<\/p>\n

When a 6-year-old is alone in an orphanage,
\na 50-year-old is alone on the street
\na 15-year-old is alone in juvie detention,
\nor an 80-year-old is alone in a nursing home:
\nthen the work of Christmas is unfinished,
\nthe mystery of incarnation incomplete,
\nand \u201cjoy to the world\u201d remains a looming mandate.<\/p>\n

There is something unique about preaching this early Christmas eve,
\nwhen NORAD \u2013 The North American Aerospace Command \u2013
\nhas turned its formidable detection capacities
\nmomentarily away from satellites, bombers, and drones
\nand is currently tracking a jolly guy in a red suit
\nwho at last report was leaving Wale
\nand heading north to Scotland.<\/p>\n

I know some liturgical types think it inappropriate
\neven to mention Kris Kringle on this incarnational feast,
\nbut I believe deeply that this widely accepted cultural symbol
\nhas much to teach us about the unfinished business of Christmas.<\/p>\n

An anonymous author<\/a> writes about the time
\nhis older sister dropped the bomb: \u201cthere\u2019s no Santa!\u201d
\nHe remembers tearing across town on my bike to visit Grandma.<\/p>\n

My grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been.
\nI fled to her that day because I knew she would tell me the truth
\nand the truth always went down a whole lot easier
\nwhen devouring one of her world-famous cinnamon buns.<\/p>\n

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm.
\nBetween bites, I told her everything.
\nShe was ready for me.
\n“No Santa Claus!” she snorted. “Ridiculous! Don’t believe it.
\nThat rumor has been going around for years,
\nand it makes me mad, plain mad.
\nNow, put on your coat, and let’s go.”<\/p>\n

“Go? Go where, Grandma?” I asked.
\nI hadn’t even finished my second cinnamon bun.
\n‘Where’ turned out to be Kerby’s General Store.<\/p>\n

As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.
\nThat was a bundle in those days.
\n“Take this money and buy something for someone who needs it.
\nI’ll wait for you in the car.”<\/p>\n

Then she turned and walked out: I was 8 years old
\nhad often gone shopping with my mother, but never by myself.<\/p>\n

For a few moments I just stood there, confused
\nclutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy,
\nand who on earth to buy it for.<\/p>\n

I thought of everybody I knew:
\nfamily, friends, neighbors, people who went to my church.
\nI was just about thought out,
\nwhen I thought of Bobbie Decker.
\nHe was a kid who sat right behind me in 2nd grade.
\nBobbie Decker didn’t have a coat.<\/p>\n

I knew that because when we went out for recess in winter
\nhis mother always wrote a note, reporting that he had a cough,
\nbut all us kids knew that Bobbie Decker didn’t have a cough,
\nwhat he didn’t have was a coat.<\/p>\n

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood
\nIt looked real warm.<\/p>\n

“Is this a Christmas present for someone?” the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. “Yes, ma’am,” I replied shyly. “It’s for Bobby.\u201d<\/p>\n

The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn’t get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.<\/p>\n

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat. (A little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible). We wrapped the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, “To Bobby, From Santa Claus” on it.
\nGrandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy.<\/p>\n

Then she drove me over to Bobbie Decker’s house,
\nexplaining as we went that I was now and forever
\nofficially one of Santa’s helpers.
\nGrandma parked down the street from Bobbie’s house,
\nshe and I crept noiselessly
\nand hid in the bushes by his front walk.<\/p>\n

Then Grandma gave me a nudge.
\n“All right, Santa Claus,” she whispered, “get going.”
\nI took a deep breath, dashed for his front door,
\nthrew the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell
\nand flew back to the safety of the bushes and grandma.<\/p>\n

Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness
\nfor the front door to open.
\nFinally it did, and there stood Bobbie.<\/p>\n

Forty years haven’t dimmed the thrill of those moments
\nspent shivering, beside my grandma,
\nin Bobbie Decker’s bushes.<\/p>\n

That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus
\nwere just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous.
\nSanta was alive and well, and we were on his team.<\/p>\n

I still have Grandma\u2019s Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This nativity feast not only remembers that God once dwelt among us
\nbut that through the birth of the Christ,
\nGod forever and eternally
\nwed himself to humanity
\nand thus summoned us to complete the gift of incarnation
\nby wedding our humanity to God\u2019s divinity
\nand be the enduring presence of Christ in the world.<\/p>\n

We take up that task
\nin a world where are rumors of demise,
\nnot only of Santa Claus but of God,
\nsubtly peddled through the prejudice,
\nthe small-mindedness,
\nand the greed that subverts the promise of this holy season.<\/p>\n

This silent night could be no more than a quaint moment
\nin which we offer congratulations to a young homeless couple
\noccupying a handsome cr\u00e8che
\nwith only one child and no Misha, and no other orphans to be seen.<\/p>\n

Or it can be a vocational plunge
\nthat commits us to allow the child to be born in us again.<\/p>\n

And so with the poet [1] we muse:<\/p>\n

This blessed eve, when carols soar
\nwith angel’s words unfurled
\nare we content with pleasantries
\nor wish to change a world<\/p>\n

where children starve and nations rage
\nand greed is how we plod
\nwhere even those who bear his name, live
\nas there was no God.<\/p>\n

There is another way to be
\na way the gospel charts
\nand that is to embrace the Christ
\nand birth him in our hearts.<\/p>\n

And so this magic Christmas eve
\ncommit to one clear call
\naccept the mission from God’s Child
\nof peace, goodwill toward all.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\n

[1] In the creation of this homily, the original source of this poem was lost. If you know the poet and the poem quoted here, please share that with us so we can give them proper credit.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This silent night could be no more than a quaint moment in which we offer congratulations to a young homeless couple occupying a handsome cr\u00e8che with only one child and no Misha, and no other orphans to be seen. 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