This is Christmas night, which shows God’s might in hiddenness, which shows God’s coming to a world not receptive to Him, and the night when the Prince of Peace is born of a Virgin, whose name was Mary.
The first point to mention is that at Christmas, God demonstrates his infinite power in hiddenness. Out of the way of the major city centers, away from the opinion-makers and governors and kings, a Virgin is with Child. She gives birth to Her Son – Her only Son – who is also the only Son of the Eternal Father, God from God, Light from Light. All this takes place, as it were, in a hidden, secret way, despite the presence of St. Joseph, the choirs of angels and the shepherds, who witness the coming of the Word made Flesh. The angel choirs sing glory to God in the highest, but for most of the people who lived in Bethlehem, that night passed by like many other nights – either in deep, dark sleep, or maybe, for some, in restless anxiety. Christ’s birth was veiled. St. John Chrysostom, a great Father of the Church, speaks to this as he says, “Surely if He had so willed it, He might have come moving the heavens, making the earth to shake, and shooting forth His thunderbolts; but…His desire was not to destroy, but to save” (Catena aurea, vol. 3, pg. 58, 2014). Jesus could have announced His birth by great wonders and signs, to grab people’s attention, but instead, He chose to be born, as so many others, without fanfare or spectacle. St. John Chrysostom says that this is because, He wanted “to trample upon human pride from its very birth” (Catena aurea, vol. 3, pg. 58, 2014). Once again, God demonstrates his infinite power in hiddenness.
Christmas is also about God coming to a world which is not very receptive to Him, a world which had relegated His birth to a lowly stable. The world of Caesar Augustus, the world of Quirinius the governor, the world of the shepherds, the world of King Herod, was a world not very different than our own. And yet, despite the risks of rejection, despite the risks stemming from a lonely birth in an isolated cave, God still comes. God still manifests Himself. He entrusts Himself to a few selected and holy souls, the first among them the Blessed Virgin Mary, then St. Joseph, and continues His mission. Christ and Christmas comes to those who are prepared: those who followed carefully these four weeks of Advent, who may have said special prayers or novenas, who may have engaged in extra works of mercy. Christmas, at least in some way, also comes to those who are unprepared.
Through the eyes of the Church’s liturgy, for us, people of faith, Christmas does not start in early November, and end with Boxing Day. We now begin the season of Christmas, starting with the Octave of Christmas, the 8 days when we savour the presence of the Saviour, and rejoice at His coming. I encourage you to spend some extra time in front of the crib, maybe here at St. Hedwig’s, and spend moments of silent reflection, taking it all in. Let us not be too quick to take down Christmas lights and decorations.
I would like to close this Christmas homily with a poem, by G.K. Chesterton, a poem that might help us approach Christmas with the heart of a child, gazing at the new-born Jesus and Our Lady, with the world’s desire:
The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast,
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world's desire.)
https://udayton.edu/imri/mary/c/christmas-poetry-illustrated.php#anchor34
(Fr. Paweł Ratajczak, OMI, Dec. 25, 2023)