Homily for Christmas 2005

A year ago tomorrow the Tsunami disaster began a dreadful year for many in the world. On one hand the tragedy is ongoing for the victims. On the other hand there was the wonderful outpouring of generosity that it called forth from people. Subsequent disasters like the earthquake in Pakistan, the riots in Sydney or the brawls at the local pubs, keep that tone for the year.

So one could approach Christmas with mixed feelings. How can we celebrate with so much going wrong in our world. How can families who are in pain celebrate? Is our Christmas joy a false hope when there are seemingly impossible problems confronting us?

Only a mother can know all that lies behind those few words. The nine months of pregnancy with all the changes in the body it entails and the consequences for the rest of the family. Then the labour pain as two human beings separate themselves to face each other and the world together. How long did Mary's labour last? How did she and Joseph deal with the birth in that stable? Did they have any help?

Giving birth is difficult enough in Australia today. The risk of death in childbirth in first century Palestine was high. The life expectancy of a woman was only 35 years in those days and still is in some countries.

The teaching that the Church has given about Mary over the years, like her immaculate conception, the virginal birth, and so on, can easily hide the human reality of the birth we celebrate. This was the birth of the first child of a young, perhaps 15 year old, peasant girl, under a cloud because she was pregnant before marriage; far from home and family; in less than sanitary surroundings at the risk of her own life.

There is probably no other experience that impresses upon us our common humanity than the birth of a child. Into this humanity Jesus Christ was born.

Our fears are calmed when we can face them together. Is it not extraordinary that the close bond of unborn child and mother which is broken through birth, brings about a new family!

We can live self centred lives, seeking happiness in accumulating more and more material goods, following our own will. Christmas puts before us a new idea, and calls from us, the realisation that our real joy comes from our common, mortal and fragile humanity. Our joy does not come from being better than others, or wealthier than others, or more powerful than others. Joy really comes from discovering that we are the same as each other as children of God. We share the same fears and joys, hopes and dreams. When we are open enough to share these feelings with each other we can discover a new energy and a deeper joy.

God chose that too. God chose that Jesus would share our humanity as our friend and companion on this journey we call life. God in Jesus embraces our frail humanity and reminds us of our dignity as children of God. Or as the prayers of Christmas says: “Your eternal Word has taken upon himself our human weakness, giving our mortal nature immortal value.”

In so doing he became our Saviour.

So at Christmas we gather as families and friends. We gather as the Church. And we know deep down that we don't have to have the best Christmas lights, the most lavish of food. We need do no more than honour each other by our presence together. We can be Eucharistic people every day; grateful people. Because we have amongst us, sharing our table, sharing our difficulties and our joys, the song of love of God for us, the Word of God made flesh, Jesus Christ.

All we know is “she gave birth..”

Once upon a time there was a rich man named Carl. He was proud of his success and his large estate. He would ride his horse around his property feeling very proud of his achievements. One day as he rode he came across Hans, and elderly tenant farmer who was loved by everyone. He was kind, generous and compassionate and had worked hard all his life. He owned little and often gave away what he had. He had just sat down to eat his lunch in the shade of a tree and bowed his head in prayer. He was startled by the arrival of the landowner Carl, looked up and said 'Oh excuse me sir, I did not see you. I was giving thanks for my food.

A Christmas story:

Ho! Snorted the rich man, noticing the poor lunch Hans was eating. 'If that were all I had to eat I don't think I would be giving thanks.'

Hans replied, 'It is quite sufficient. But it is good you came by because I have something to tell you. Last night I had a strange dream.'

'Oh, and what did you dream?'

I heard a voice saying, 'The richest man in the valley will die tonight.'

Carl laughed. 'Nonsense', he said, and rode away.

But he could not put the old man's dream out of his mind. So just to make sure he called in to see the doctor. He told the doctor about the old man's dream. So the doctor examined him. 'Carl', he said, 'you are as strong and healthy as that horse you ride.'

Just then a messenger arrived at the doctor's doorstep. Doctor he cried out. Come quickly! It's the old man Hans. He just died in his sleep.'

Fr Graham