Now imagine really being there as it really was: the darkness, the animal noises, the mustiness, the filth, the loneliness. Did anyone even care that a pregnant woman & her husband were stuck out in the cave where the animals were penned up? I’m sure none of us would have been too happy to have to spend the night in such a place.
Now consider that this stall was the point of entry for God into the world: the portal between heaven & earth.
Out of all the imaginable ways that God could come us, why this one? It wasn’t a random occurrence; it was chosen. Why? To bring us closer to the Mystery. Few Protestants nail up a crucifix in their home, but I would venture even fewer do without a crèche. There is something irresistibly approachable about this man, this woman, this child. Abp. Sheen said we can’t love something we can’t get our arms around. So, it naturally draws us into the story. How did they wind up there? Will they be OK? Who are these visitors? What happens next?
Ah, there’s the rub. In times past, after the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary came the Sorrowful Mysteries. Even the disinterested may not have such a problem with a little baby & “Peace on earth, good will towards men.” Nice sentiments, no? Yet, why the infant God comes to us in this destitution is directly connected to his mission: to pay the ransom for our sins with his life. To offer perfect obedience, even unto death on a cross. And to call us to that same single-minded devotion. Everyone is smiling in the Christmas card depictions of the Nativity. No one is smiling at Golgotha. The manger is easy. The cross is hard.
So, many stop & admire the serenity of the moment, but then continue on. It is a brave soul that stops & lingers. Every child birth is a miracle, but the birth of God into his creation is different. It means something vast, demands something absolute. The world is now different; its purpose now different; its destination now different. We, too, are called to this transformation.
Now consider that this stall was the point of entry for God into the world: the portal between heaven & earth.
Out of all the imaginable ways that God could come us, why this one? It wasn’t a random occurrence; it was chosen. Why? To bring us closer to the Mystery. Few Protestants nail up a crucifix in their home, but I would venture even fewer do without a crèche. There is something irresistibly approachable about this man, this woman, this child. Abp. Sheen said we can’t love something we can’t get our arms around. So, it naturally draws us into the story. How did they wind up there? Will they be OK? Who are these visitors? What happens next?
Ah, there’s the rub. In times past, after the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary came the Sorrowful Mysteries. Even the disinterested may not have such a problem with a little baby & “Peace on earth, good will towards men.” Nice sentiments, no? Yet, why the infant God comes to us in this destitution is directly connected to his mission: to pay the ransom for our sins with his life. To offer perfect obedience, even unto death on a cross. And to call us to that same single-minded devotion. Everyone is smiling in the Christmas card depictions of the Nativity. No one is smiling at Golgotha. The manger is easy. The cross is hard.
So, many stop & admire the serenity of the moment, but then continue on. It is a brave soul that stops & lingers. Every child birth is a miracle, but the birth of God into his creation is different. It means something vast, demands something absolute. The world is now different; its purpose now different; its destination now different. We, too, are called to this transformation.
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