(Vatican Radio) Pope Francis has urged Christians to allow themselves
to be challenged by the Child in the manger, and also by the children of
today’s world, so many of whom are suffering.
During the Holy Christmas Mass homily, celebrated in St. Peter’s
Basilica on Saturday evening, Christmas Eve, the Pope spoke of those
children “who are not lying in a cot caressed with the affection of a
mother and father” , of those hiding underground to escape bombardment,
of those on the the bottom of a boat overladen with immigrants.
“Let us allow ourselves to be challenged by the children who are not
allowed to be born, by those who cry because no one satiates their
hunger, by those who do have not toys in their hands, but rather
weapons” he said.
Please find below the official translation of the full text of Pope Francis’ homily:
“The grace of God has appeared for the salvation of all men” (Tit
2:11). The words of the Apostle Paul reveal the mystery of this holy
night: the grace of God has appeared, his gift is free; in the Child
given unto us the love of God is made visible.
It is a night of glory, that glory proclaimed by the angels in
Bethlehem and also by us today all over the world. It is a night of
joy, because from this day forth, and for all times, the infinite and
eternal God is God with us: he is not far off, we need not search for
him in the heavens or in mystical notions; he is close, he is been made
man and will never distance himself from our humanity, which he has made
his own. It is a night of light: that light, prophesied by Isaiah (cf.
9:1), which would illumine those who walk in darkness, has appeared and
enveloped the shepherds of Bethlehem (cf. Lk 2:9).
The shepherds simply discover that “unto us a child is born” (Is 9:5)
and they understand that all this glory, all this joy, all this light
converges to one single point, that sign which the angel indicated to
them: “you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a
manger” (Lk 2:12). This is the enduring sign to find Jesus. Not just
then, but also today. If we want to celebrate Christmas authentically,
we need to contemplate this sign: the fragile simplicity of a small
newborn, the meekness of where he lies, the tender affection of the
swaddling clothes. God is there.
With this sign the Gospel reveals a paradox: it speaks of the emperor,
the governor, the mighty of those times, but God does not make himself
present there; he does not appear in the grand hall of a royal palace,
but in the poverty of a stable; not in pomp and show, but in the
simplicity of life; not in power, but in a smallness which surprises.
In order to discover him, we need to go there, where he is: we need to
bow down, humble ourselves, make ourselves small. The Child who is born
challenges us: he calls us to leave behind fleeting illusions and go to
the essence, to renounce our insatiable claims, to abandon our endless
dissatisfaction and sadness for something we will never have. It will
help us to leave these things behind in order to rediscover in the
simplicity of the God-child, peace, joy and the meaning of life.
Let us allow the Child in the manger to challenge us, but let us also
allow ourselves to be challenged by the children of today’s world, who
are not lying in a cot caressed with the affection of a mother and
father, but rather suffer the squalid “mangers that devour dignity”:
hiding underground to escape bombardment, on the pavements of a large
city, at the bottom of a boat overladen with immigrants. Let us allow
ourselves to be challenged by the children who are not allowed to be
born, by those who cry because no one satiates their hunger, by those
who do have not toys in their hands, but rather weapons.
The mystery of Christmas, which is light and joy, questions and
unsettles us, because it is at once both a mystery of hope and of
sadness. It bears within itself the taste of sadness, inasmuch as love
is not received, and life discarded. This happened to Joseph and Mary,
who found the doors closed, and placed Jesus in a manger, “because there
was no place for them in the inn” (v. 7). Jesus was born rejected by
some and regarded by many others with indifference. Today also the same
indifference can exist, when Christmas becomes a feast where the
protagonists are ourselves, rather than Jesus; when the lights of
commerce cast the light of God into the shadows; when we are concerned
for gifts but cold towards those who are marginalized.
Yet Christmas has essentially a flavour of hope because,
notwithstanding the darker aspects of our lives, God’s light shines out.
His gentle light does not make us fear; God who is in love with us,
draws us to himself with his tenderness, born poor and fragile among us,
as one of us. He is born in Bethlehem, which means “house of bread”.
In this way he seems to tell us that he is born as bread for us; he
enters life to give us his life; he comes into our world to give us his
love. He does not come to devour or to command but to nourish and to
serve. Thus there is a direct thread joining the manger and the cross,
where Jesus will become bread that is broken: it is the direct thread of
love which is given and which saves us, which brings light to our
lives, and peace to our hearts.
The shepherds grasped this in that night. They were among the
marginalized of those times. But no one is marginalized in the sight of
God and it was precisely they who were invited to the Nativity. Those
who felt sure of themselves, self-sufficient, were at home with their
possessions; the shepherds instead “went with haste” (cf. Lk 2:16). Let
us allow ourselves also to be challenged and convened tonight by Jesus.
Let us go to him with trust, from that area in us we feel to be
marginalized, from our own limitations. Let us touch the tenderness
which saves. Let us draw close to God who draws close to us, let us
pause to look upon the crib, and imagine the birth of Jesus: light,
peace, utmost poverty, and rejection. Let us enter into the real
Nativity with the shepherds, taking to Jesus all that we are, our
alienation, our unhealed wounds. Then, in Jesus we will enjoy the
flavour of the true spirit of Christmas: the beauty of being loved by
God. With Mary and Joseph we pause before the manger, before Jesus who
is born as bread for my life.
Contemplating his humble and infinite love, let us say to him: thank
you, thank you because you have done all this for me.