Martí Colom
Today, Christmas Day, we do not only remember the historical fact of Jesus’ birth, some two thousand years ago. We also celebrate that God— who with that birth wanted to come to meet us in a new way—is present in our world. Today we celebrate the feast of God’s closeness to us: God wants, as he wanted in Bethlehem, to be at our side, to accompany us, to be one of us, to encourage us, to comfort us, to help us, to give us a life of fullness.
And yet, in the beautiful reading of Luke which we heard at Midnight Mass (Luke 2:1-14) there is an intriguing phrase, which might almost seem like a minor detail with no importance —but it is not, and it deserves our attention: “While they were there the days of her confinement were completed. She gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.” There was no room for them in the inn.
Jesus was not born in a stable because Joseph and Mary loved oxen and donkeys, nor so that centuries later we could mount a beautiful manger in our houses every December, with its tiny houses, a river of aluminum foil, a little moss representing a meadow and the stable in the middle of everything. Jesus was born in a stable because no one wanted to open the doors of their house to his parents.
Amid the joy of this day, it is good to pay attention to this detail. And, since we are not only remembering a historical event of twenty centuries ago, but celebrating today’s living relationship of God with us, we must ask ourselves very seriously if we, too, sometimes do not close our doors to Christ.
We do it every time we send away a needy person without trying to respond to his need. And every time we exclude God from our thoughts and from our decision making. And when we turn a deaf ear to a demanding phrase of his gospel. And when someone with problems comes to us and we look the other way. And every time we evict God from our heart.
To truly celebrate Christmas is to say yes to the Lord’s coming, and to say that we really want to welcome the presence of Jesus in our lives. To truly celebrate Christmas, of course, also means that we are at ease with a God who becomes humble, fragile and small. To truly celebrate Christmas means that we renounce all arrogance, all dreams of greatness, and that we are at ease with a God who is Prince of Peace. And, to truly celebrate Christmas, as followers of the Prince of Peace, we renounce violence once and for all.
Let's celebrate, of course, the birth of Jesus! Understanding that, today, the idea is to welcome him into our inn.
Today, Christmas Day, we do not only remember the historical fact of Jesus’ birth, some two thousand years ago. We also celebrate that God— who with that birth wanted to come to meet us in a new way—is present in our world. Today we celebrate the feast of God’s closeness to us: God wants, as he wanted in Bethlehem, to be at our side, to accompany us, to be one of us, to encourage us, to comfort us, to help us, to give us a life of fullness.
And yet, in the beautiful reading of Luke which we heard at Midnight Mass (Luke 2:1-14) there is an intriguing phrase, which might almost seem like a minor detail with no importance —but it is not, and it deserves our attention: “While they were there the days of her confinement were completed. She gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.” There was no room for them in the inn.
Jesus was not born in a stable because Joseph and Mary loved oxen and donkeys, nor so that centuries later we could mount a beautiful manger in our houses every December, with its tiny houses, a river of aluminum foil, a little moss representing a meadow and the stable in the middle of everything. Jesus was born in a stable because no one wanted to open the doors of their house to his parents.
Amid the joy of this day, it is good to pay attention to this detail. And, since we are not only remembering a historical event of twenty centuries ago, but celebrating today’s living relationship of God with us, we must ask ourselves very seriously if we, too, sometimes do not close our doors to Christ.
We do it every time we send away a needy person without trying to respond to his need. And every time we exclude God from our thoughts and from our decision making. And when we turn a deaf ear to a demanding phrase of his gospel. And when someone with problems comes to us and we look the other way. And every time we evict God from our heart.
To truly celebrate Christmas is to say yes to the Lord’s coming, and to say that we really want to welcome the presence of Jesus in our lives. To truly celebrate Christmas, of course, also means that we are at ease with a God who becomes humble, fragile and small. To truly celebrate Christmas means that we renounce all arrogance, all dreams of greatness, and that we are at ease with a God who is Prince of Peace. And, to truly celebrate Christmas, as followers of the Prince of Peace, we renounce violence once and for all.
Let's celebrate, of course, the birth of Jesus! Understanding that, today, the idea is to welcome him into our inn.
