Homily Notes Christmas

Christmas 2016. “What Does it Mean to Look Upon the Face of God?”

Christmas is here. Doesn’t it seem like we started to prepare for this celebration when Labor Day was over? We have gone through three months of build-up. We have had parades. Holiday festivals have taken place. Cookies have been made. Decorating has been done. And it all boils down to this one day. Somehow it seems like an anticlimax. We spend time with our family at a meal, open some presents, then we go on with our lives. Often important events are more hype than substance.

We all can remember other times when there has been great anticipation for a major event in our lives. Times when we are kind of feel let down. We were not as awestruck as we thought we might be.

I grew up in a small parish where there was little activity. But one school year it was announced that we would have confirmation in the spring. Now this was a big undertaking because our parish was so small that everyone from the 2nd grad through the 8th grade would be confirmed at the same time. The whole period of preparation the mantra was the same. “The bishop is coming. The bishop is coming.” We did not want to disappoint him so we memorized information about the faith that he would quiz us on. We were all told that if he asked a question everyone should raise their hand even if you did not know the answer. We were to show enthusiasm on our confirmation day. Underneath all the preparation was a sense of fear. We were afraid the Bishop would be displeased.

As children, we were all caught up in the excitement. The bishop became a larger than life figure like the Wizard of Oz or something. The fateful night came. We were all gathered in the church. The pipe organ blasted out the opening song. Everyone stood. The procession began. The priests and servers walked down the main aisle. But where was the bishop? Finally, we saw the tip of a miter pass down the aisle. We children could not even see him over everyone else. Bishop Franz was about 5’6.” To me he seemed like a midget. We were not awestruck by the man we met. He was a jolly little man. The fear dissipated as he asked us questions laughing when someone gave a less than accurate answer. In the end, we were probably happy with the man we met. He gave us confidence that God would patient with us as we grew up.

We get the same kind of sensation about the Christmas Story. We hear in the Gospel of Luke about the Angel Gabriel being sent by God to Nazareth to announce the coming birth of Jesus. And then we have choirs Angels appearing to the shepherds in the field singing hymns, telling them to go over to Bethlehem to see the savior of the world. In the Gospel of Matthew, we have the story of a great celestial event, a star that shines by day and night. The star moves through the heavens leading the way to where the child Jesus was.

We have to wonder what was running through the minds of the shepherds when they arrived to find the savior of the world lying in a manger. Or, what the kings were thinking after traveling many miles only to find a poor infant with his parents. But a more pertinent question is why do we appreciate this story. What makes it so appealing? We know much more about Jesus then the people who met him on that night two millennia ago. We know of his life as a simple carpenter. We also know of his ministry. The crucifixion he endured is something we are also aware of. We are aware of his resurrection. But there is something about Christmas that strikes our religious sensitivities more than any other holiday. What is it?

Maybe what is so touching to us is that, in this case, we are glad when all the build-up leads to someone who is not so intimidating. We like it when the powerful are not aloof, but when they are someone we can relate to.

When we look in the manger scene it is like looking in a mirror. We know that one time we were all small. We were helpless. We needed to be taken care of. We also know that if we live long enough we will become very vulnerable again. We will become old and die.

What we remember today is that God left the heavens to come to dwell with us. One of the things we hear over and over in the church is that God lives in unapproachable light. The Old Testament scriptures tell us that no one can look upon the face of God and live. Christmas declares that God left all that power behind, for a while. Our Lord chose to become small and weak. He wanted to be one of us. And that decision lifts our spirits. People looked upon the face of God lying in the manger and felt loved. We also feel comfortable with the God we believe in who we call Jesus for we realize the truth, that we are made in the image and likeness of God. God was born. God chose to die. God lives. As the poet writes:

“Here we sit, billions of us on our small planet, using artificial light to scatter the ubiquitous darkness, running here and there and everywhere to distract us from impending death.

Here we sit, looking to the east, hoping beyond hope, that the Light will come, justice too and truth and charity.

Here we sit chanting our humble antiphons convinced that God’s glory is near, is here in Jesus.

On this day, we remember.

No longer does darkness reign, no longer does death terrify. The Dayspring has sprung, the shadowland is no more.”

Please note this a rough draft, grammar may not be perfect.