As we put Christmas away (or at least think about putting it away), a question emerges, “What is different because of my celebration of the Incarnation this Christmas?”
You might answer that question with a question: “I was celebrating. Couldn’t I just relax and enjoy?”
Both are good questions. Both relate to our readings this Sunday, Epiphany Sunday.
Isaiah 60:1-6
How beautiful and hopeful are Isaiah’s words today! This is chapter 60, in the part of Isaiah written after the exiles returned from Babylon. It was written when Jerusalem was demolished, “with no stone on top of another.” If you have been part of clean-up and rebuilding after a flood, fire, tornado, earthquake, or war, you know the heaviness of heart that robs you of energy. The task seems impossible to complete. You believe that life will not only never be the same; it will never be as good. Only desperation (or the looks of desperation on others’ faces) enables you to sift through, trash some-recover others, one messy, dirty long day at a time.
This was the situation of the people of Jerusalem when Isaiah wrote today’s Gospel. He spoke to people who lived in the darkness of discouragement. It was a far off hope, but Isaiah spoke a word of hope in what we know to be the Word of God.
WE KNOW Isaiah was talking about something far in the future from 6th century BC when this was written. WE KNOW the light did come. The light was Christ, was the baby Jesus to whom we’ve been singing Christmas carols.
Matthew 2:1-12
We have here the final story of the infant narratives about Jesus’ birth. It is the story of the Magi who came “from the East” because they had seen a star rising which they understood to mean there was a birth of a great king. When they came to Jerusalem, they did the politically correct thing and inquire of King Herod, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews?”
That set a lot of questioning in motion. The questioning got an answer for the Magi: “In Bethlehem of Judea.” It also created fear in King Herod, for the child the Magi sought was not his son. He, like almost everyone else in power during Jesus’ life, expected Jesus to grow up to be a military leader who would create a kingdom of this world.
The questioning led to the slaughter of boy children under two years old in the region of Bethlehem, to the Holy Family’s escape into Egypt, and to the Magi finding another way home that could avoid Herod.
But the Light who was Christ came. He came into the world—where he remains to this day.
Still Light.
Ephesians 3:2-3a, 5-6
Here we see the meaning the Church wants us to understand today: “that the Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body, and copartners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.”
From the time that God asked Abram to look up at the night sky in Genesis 15, God had claimed Abram’s progeny as his own. From the time of the escape of the Israelites from Egypt into the deserts of the Sinai Peninsula described in Exodus and Numbers, the people of Israel had understood themselves to be God’s special people, called to be set apart by following God’s laws, especially the 10 Commandments.
Then the Light of God, who was Jesus, the Christ, came. He did not do away with Jewish Law, but he went beyond it to talk about attitudes and putting God in one’s heart. He showed God’s willingness to touch and heal even those who were rejected sinners on the street—or sinners who were pious people who obeyed the letter of the Law and missed the core: Love God with all your heart, mind, and soul, and your neighbor as yourself.
There were signs during Jesus’ life that he was meant to bring Israel back to God AND others, too. The story of the Magi from the East is a part of that, as well as Jesus healing the Gerasene demoniac (Mark 5) and the Canaanite woman’s daughter (Matthew 15). Nonetheless, it was the Apostles, especially Paul, who took the Gospel to those outside Israel. This included the church at Ephesus, which Paul addresses today in the second reading.
The controversy of Jews and Gentiles was THE controversy of the first century church. The Council of Jerusalem resolved it. The story of that resolution is in Acts 15.
Back to What Makes a Difference
This was a mostly quiet, introverted Christmas for me. Celebrations were sometimes delayed or canceled because of the illnesses of both friends and family. There was the computer problem. I entered Christmas exhausted and stressed. So those factors make me pensive as I put Christmas decorations away and get ready to return to regular routines on Monday.
Christmas in the Church is the celebration of God-becoming-man, of Emmanuel (God-with-us). Where and how did I see God with me the past couple of weeks? Where and how did I make him present to others? How did I live the Incarnation?
De Centro, where I work as a therapist, closed for Christmas, and I took a needed break from active ministry. Then people were sick, and I appreciated spending time alone, rather than having multiple nights of company for dinner or visiting people as I normally do at Christmas. Still, honestly, the time alone did not refresh me.
It was not until the past few days that I began to look forward to returning to caring for others. What made a difference?
The difference was some honest conversation with someone whose spiritual judgement I trust, as well as the effects of resting, eating healthy, and taking time for introspection.
But mostly, the difference was a resolution in me of a struggle of KNOWING to say yes to God about something and actually saying it, but, still, without docility of will. It was a grudging yes.
Then, I confessed where I was—and God gave the grace of docility. With it came understanding of WHY it is important to internally change some attitudes. Then came joy and peace—GOD-WITH-ME. Incarnation made a difference!
Jesus comes every day in the Eucharist and all the sacraments, in the Mass, in his ministers and in his Church. He comes as he has revealed himself to me through Christmas as I have written for A Catholic Moment: he comes in each person I genuinely encounter; he comes with diversity, but without polarity; he comes to the poor and marginalized, the rich and educated, and ordinary people in between; AND he comes to Jew and Gentile; in Church and out.
He comes to you. He comes to me.
This Christmas I have mostly taken a break from making him manifest to others. But now, it is time to return to making Jesus the Light of the World.
What difference has Christ’s Presence and Light made to you this Christmas? What difference will you take to ordinary life on Monday morning? Thoughts to ponder as we put Christmas away.
Prayer:
Lord, as 2024 begins, give us your Light. Give us Light to understand Scripture and current events. Give us Light to see how to love You in each and every person we meet. Give us Light to know how to use what we say and think to make You visible—to those we naturally love, to those we struggle to love, to those with whom we disagree, and with those who need more of us than it is easy to give. Let Your Light shine clearly in our minds, our hearts, our words, and our deeds. Keep coming, Lord Jesus. Maranatha in January, too. And help to be able to discern what is of You, and what is not.
