Over 2000
years ago tonight, a miracle occurred on this earth, God Himself entered our
world, in fact, that is what a miracle is, the intervention of God in our
lives, and by that entrance everything was changed.
This is why there is a uniqueness to this night, and if we were to distinguish this night from any other, it could be distinguished with one word: silence. A word that means more than just quiet or even hushed, it is a palpable silence, so palpable, in fact, that countless songs and hymns, which have been sung for centuries, echo this sentiment every year, because every year this night, and only this night, something beautiful, something amazing happens.
The world, if even temporarily, becomes different and the feeling in the air is different, because it recalls that night when a child was born, but not just any child, the very king of the universe. And, when the creator of the universe enters that universe, it reflects that cosmic moment of peace.
This is why it is even more than peace, it is reverence, and why time and again, we are invited, on this holy night, to fall on our knees and to hear the angels’ voices, because this night indeed, is holy, in fact, this night is the very first time someone knelt before Jesus to adore Him, but He wasn’t in a monstrance on an altar, or in a tabernacle, He was wrapped in a blanket in a manger.
This is why even a star became a lighted path in the darkness of night to lead the shepherds to Him. And while stars were a common precursor to the birth of someone important, this star that hung in the city of David was more than just a compass, it was, indeed, a guiding light to our Savior, a cosmic path to the Christ child, a sanctuary lamp, as it were, to He who would become the Most Holy Eucharist.
And, that is what we feel, the same feeling we may get when we walk into a Church, that feeling of peace, of serenity, that desire to pray. Yet, when it happens beyond a Church, when it transforms a night, when it changes everything, that feeling permeates everything throughout the world, which means then that the universe itself is bowing in adoration like the first night, and the silence we feel is, in essence, the universe at prayer.
Perhaps, since we have become so accustomed to the image, it doesn’t mean much, but it is not common for someone to kneel before a baby or to bring gifts that the baby can’t use, unless that baby is special, unless that baby is God.
And, while it may not seem too miraculous to be born in a manger, a feeding trough from where animals would eat, and to have hay as a mattress. He was born in a little town called Bethlehem, a Hebrew word that simply means “house of bread.”
Which means from His very first moment on this earth Jesus wanted to feed us and He was born in order to feed us, first with His Word, which we just heard, and then again with the Most Holy Eucharist, the true bread from Heaven.
St. John Chrysostom, from his own Christmas homily puts it well, he says: “Bethlehem, this day, resembles Heaven,” but truly, everywhere Jesus is adored and received is Bethlehem, which is why, as on that first Christmas night, tonight, Heaven has come down to earth, so that earth might resemble Heaven.
That is why the miracle of Christmas is more than a simple birth, it is a reminder of what happens every single day upon this altar, when the miracle of that same Christ child comes to dwell within this church, when He comes to dwell within our midst, so that His crib is not made of stone and hay, but the manger of our hearts.
This, too is why, even beyond the reverence, there is also incredible joy, because the sacrifice of Christ begins here, it starts when He enters our world, because He didn’t need to become a little child, He didn’t need to lay His head in a manger, He didn’t need for everyone to reject Mary and St. Joseph, He didn’t need to run away from Herod in the desert and He even didn’t need to be born at all.
Yet, in His greatest act of humility, He allowed all of that, and He laid His head on the wood of the manger, which led Him to lay His head on the wood of the cross. So that He could take all of our sins, redeem our souls, and open Heaven for all of us, and He did so, simply by allowing Himself to become a tiny child, the same child whom we adore this night.
This is what Christmas is all about, this is what has been romanticized, made into songs, poems, books and art, not the presents, nor the trees, nor the lights, nor the family, as great as they all may be, Christmas is this manger, the Nativity, the birth of Jesus Christ in our world.
For, “today in the city of David a savior is born,” Christ the Lord, our Wonder-Counselor, our God-Hero, our Father-Forever, our Prince of Peace.
This is why there is a uniqueness to this night, and if we were to distinguish this night from any other, it could be distinguished with one word: silence. A word that means more than just quiet or even hushed, it is a palpable silence, so palpable, in fact, that countless songs and hymns, which have been sung for centuries, echo this sentiment every year, because every year this night, and only this night, something beautiful, something amazing happens.
The world, if even temporarily, becomes different and the feeling in the air is different, because it recalls that night when a child was born, but not just any child, the very king of the universe. And, when the creator of the universe enters that universe, it reflects that cosmic moment of peace.
This is why it is even more than peace, it is reverence, and why time and again, we are invited, on this holy night, to fall on our knees and to hear the angels’ voices, because this night indeed, is holy, in fact, this night is the very first time someone knelt before Jesus to adore Him, but He wasn’t in a monstrance on an altar, or in a tabernacle, He was wrapped in a blanket in a manger.
This is why even a star became a lighted path in the darkness of night to lead the shepherds to Him. And while stars were a common precursor to the birth of someone important, this star that hung in the city of David was more than just a compass, it was, indeed, a guiding light to our Savior, a cosmic path to the Christ child, a sanctuary lamp, as it were, to He who would become the Most Holy Eucharist.
And, that is what we feel, the same feeling we may get when we walk into a Church, that feeling of peace, of serenity, that desire to pray. Yet, when it happens beyond a Church, when it transforms a night, when it changes everything, that feeling permeates everything throughout the world, which means then that the universe itself is bowing in adoration like the first night, and the silence we feel is, in essence, the universe at prayer.
Perhaps, since we have become so accustomed to the image, it doesn’t mean much, but it is not common for someone to kneel before a baby or to bring gifts that the baby can’t use, unless that baby is special, unless that baby is God.
And, while it may not seem too miraculous to be born in a manger, a feeding trough from where animals would eat, and to have hay as a mattress. He was born in a little town called Bethlehem, a Hebrew word that simply means “house of bread.”
Which means from His very first moment on this earth Jesus wanted to feed us and He was born in order to feed us, first with His Word, which we just heard, and then again with the Most Holy Eucharist, the true bread from Heaven.
St. John Chrysostom, from his own Christmas homily puts it well, he says: “Bethlehem, this day, resembles Heaven,” but truly, everywhere Jesus is adored and received is Bethlehem, which is why, as on that first Christmas night, tonight, Heaven has come down to earth, so that earth might resemble Heaven.
That is why the miracle of Christmas is more than a simple birth, it is a reminder of what happens every single day upon this altar, when the miracle of that same Christ child comes to dwell within this church, when He comes to dwell within our midst, so that His crib is not made of stone and hay, but the manger of our hearts.
This, too is why, even beyond the reverence, there is also incredible joy, because the sacrifice of Christ begins here, it starts when He enters our world, because He didn’t need to become a little child, He didn’t need to lay His head in a manger, He didn’t need for everyone to reject Mary and St. Joseph, He didn’t need to run away from Herod in the desert and He even didn’t need to be born at all.
Yet, in His greatest act of humility, He allowed all of that, and He laid His head on the wood of the manger, which led Him to lay His head on the wood of the cross. So that He could take all of our sins, redeem our souls, and open Heaven for all of us, and He did so, simply by allowing Himself to become a tiny child, the same child whom we adore this night.
This is what Christmas is all about, this is what has been romanticized, made into songs, poems, books and art, not the presents, nor the trees, nor the lights, nor the family, as great as they all may be, Christmas is this manger, the Nativity, the birth of Jesus Christ in our world.
For, “today in the city of David a savior is born,” Christ the Lord, our Wonder-Counselor, our God-Hero, our Father-Forever, our Prince of Peace.
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