The priest was tired. A hard year, Christmas morning Mass beckoned and his head and heart was empty. He needed three holidays. The readings didn’t inspire; Kings, Mary, Bethlehem, a star – He knew all this.
What was Christmas, cheapened daily by a thousand mediocre recorded carols selling trivia? What was Christmas when parish was faltering and nothing seemed to make a difference, and yet the need of the world around, grew daily? And where was Christmas, when frightened old people scuttled to their cars and homes past broody youth.
A couple came. “I’m Joseph. This is Mary” he gestured at the girl, heavily pregnant, sweating and shaky as she stood in the porch. “Drugs,” thought the priest. “We haven’t got anywhere to stay.” The girl was unbelievably thin. He looked at them a moment. “You’re Joseph— She’s Mary— and it’s Christmas Morning! Who do you think I am— the Donkey?!”
He dumped the anger and weariness of the whole year upon them. It evaporated when he saw the girl hug herself with weariness and pain. Bean Bags and pillows were fixed up and then to bed - until 4a.m. when Joseph’s frantic knocking brought them to a hospital. And so, on Christmas morning, he saw a baby born, in a great painful rush, blue grey from the stress. The miracle of one and one making three touched him.
His later sermon. “This morning I saw a baby born. And I understood something about Christmas. I saw the pain and fear of a mother… And I saw a new baby so blue I thought it would die. I understood something of the risk God has taken in letting us loose on this earth. I saw an indescribable love of mother for her child. And then I remembered God’s love. It’s the love that goes through blood, sweat, and tears and loves us until the day we die. That’s why we have Christmas, and that’s what the baby Jesus was about…. all his life… showing us God’s love. Now go home all of you. And have a blessed Christmas. And remember God’s love.”
(Comments to Tom at tomascox@eircom.net )