CHRISTMAS MIDNIGHT: Is 9:1-6; Ti 2:11-14; Lk 2:1-14

Nine-year-old Wally was in second grade when most children his age were fourth graders. He was big for his years, a clumsy fellow, a slow learner. But Wally was a hopeful, willing, smiling lad, a natural defender of the underdog, and he was well-liked by his classmates. His parents encouraged him to audition for the annual parish Christmas play. Wally wanted to be a shepherd. Instead, he was given the role of the innkeeper. The director reasoned that Wally’s size would lend extra force to the innkeeper’s refusal of lodging to Joseph. During rehearsals, Wally was instructed to be firm with Joseph. When the play opened, no one was more caught up in the action than Wally. And when Joseph knocked on the door of the inn, Wally was ready. He flung the door open and asked menacingly, “What do you want?” “We seek lodging,” Joseph replied. “Seek it elsewhere,” Wally said in a firm voice. “There’s no room in the inn.” “Please, good innkeeper,” Joseph pleaded, “this is my wife, Mary. She is with child and is very tired. She needs a place to rest.” There was a long pause as Wally looked down at Mary. The prompter whispered Wally’s next line: “No! Be gone!” Wally remained silent. Then the forlorn couple turned and began to slowly move away. Seeing this, Wally’s brow creased with concern. Tears welled up in his eyes. Suddenly, he called out, “Don’t go! You can have my room.” 

The gospel reading this night said, they laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn. Each year when we hear this statement: “they had no room”, we are called to open up our hearts and make room for him, like Wally did in the play. He had room for the needy in his heart that was why he went out of the script of the play.

The Gospel for the midnight Mass tells us how Jesus was born in Bethlehem and how the news of his birth was first announced to shepherds by the angels. While Matthew places the birth of Jesus against the backdrop of Herod’s reign, Luke places it against the background of the Roman Empire. In the Roman Empire, a census was taken periodically with the double object of assessing taxation and of discovering those who were subject to compulsory military service. Luke’s purpose in mentioning the census was to provide connection to the city of David, wherein the promised heir of David was to be born, as prophesied by Micah (5:1). Bethlehem was commonly thought of as the City of David because of David’s birth and childhood there. Luke mentions that baby Jesus was born in a manger. A manger is a feeding trough (food box), and it symbolizes the sacrificial meal that Jesus becomes, which provides sustenance for the whole world. Father Raymond Brown in his masterful book on the Infancy Narratives says that these stories are not so much literal history as stories with a theological point. The important thing to remember is that they are stories of God’s love and Jesus’ role in history and that’s what counts, not historical details.

Since David was a shepherd, it seems fitting that the shepherds were given the privilege of visiting David’s successor in the stable. The Temple sheep and lambs, meant for daily sacrifice in the Temple of Jerusalem, were under the care of shepherds year-round. How suitable, then, that despised shepherds were the first to see the Lamb of God Who takes away the sin of the world! Shepherding was a lonely, dirty job, and shepherds found it difficult to follow all the obligatory religious customs. Hence, they were scorned as non-observant Jews. So the Baby Jesus selected these marginalized people to share His love at the beginning of his earthly ministry. The shepherds expressed their joy and gratitude by “making known what had been told them” (v. 17). Just as very ordinary people would later become witnesses to the Resurrection, very ordinary shepherds became witnesses to the Incarnation. Other than the angels, they were the first to proclaim the Good News of Jesus’ birth. Once we have been privileged to experience God’s presence, we, too, have the responsibility and the privilege of sharing that experience with other people – of spreading the word – of proclaiming the Gospel.

Christmas asks us a tough question. Do we close the doors of our hearts to Jesus looking for a place to be reborn in our lives? There is no point in being sentimental about the doors slammed by the folk in Bethlehem, if there is no room in our own hearts for the same Jesus coming in the form of the needy.  We need to reverence each human life and to treat others respectfully as the living residences of the Incarnate God.  To neglect the old, to be contemptuous of the poor or to have no thought for the unemployed and the lonely is to ignore those individuals with whom Christ has so closely identified Himself.  Unless we are vigilant, like the people of Jerusalem, we can also fail to recognize the Messiah of our life. In his Dec. 22 speech, Pope Francis focused on Christmas as a time of joy but also conversion, which he said is a lifelong process requiring faithful to always be vigilant. 

 

The real meaning of Christmas actually is Emmanuel, God-with-us: God coming down to us; God seeking us out;  God coming alongside us; God revealing Himself to us; God bringing us forgiveness, healing, comfort, moral strength, guidance; God dwelling within us. Each one of us has, deep down in our souls, an incredible hunger: for purpose and meaning; to feel and celebrate the redeeming, forgiving, sustaining love of God; to be in the presence of God. Christmas is special because it reminds us concretely that God is indeed with us. Christmas is actually a celebration intended to heighten our awareness of the fact that Christ has been born, Christ lives, and Christ is present now in our souls and in our lives. May this awareness sharpen our eagerness to welcome Christ today and everyday of our life.