It's not really a Christmas movie. It is not actually a Christmas
movie at all, but one of my favorite films is Gosford Park, a 2001, British costume-drama, murder mystery, in
which Dame Maggie Smith plays Constance, Countess of Trentham. It is set in November 1932, when the Countess
and her lady's maid travel to an English country estate for a typical
aristocratic shooting weekend. While dressing for the next event on the weekend
calendar and contemplating what to wear in the cold, the Countess murmurs in
her wonderfully over-privileged way, “Why do we have to do these things?”
“Why do we have to do
these things?” The Countess’s ironic question came to mind the other day as I
was thinking about all the things people nowadays have to do – or think they
have to do - for Christmas. Personally, I have always loved Christmas, but I
sometimes think that modern life has managed to make Christmas very, very
complicated for a lot of people, which may be why so many seem to be more
exhausted than exhilarated by all that shopping and visiting and celebrating.
Yet, in spite of all that, the basic idea of Christmas is quite simple, which
may be why people have usually been so eager to celebrate it, no matter how
difficult or challenging the circumstances in which they find themselves.
The basic idea of Christmas
was simple enough in 1818 in the Austrian village of Oberndorf bei Salzburg, where
Father Joseph Mohr was busy doing all the things he had to do to get ready for
Christmas in his little parish church of Saint Nicholas, when (so the story
goes) he suddenly found himself with without a working organ for Christmas – a
stressful situation anywhere, but especially so in that very musical culture.
Father Mohr had no choice but to downsize his Christmas expectations. He took out
a little Christmas poem he had recently written and brought it to his friend Franz
Gruber, who set it to music that anyone could sing. And so we got Silent Night, which has since become perhaps
the world’s most famous and favorite Christmas carol.
It is a beautiful
carol, but I do have to wonder how silent and calm Christmas actually was way
back 2000+ years ago. Trudging to Bethlehem with a pregnant wife and no hotel
reservation, Joseph too might well have wondered, “Why do we have to do these
things?”
And it only got worse
when, having been turned away from the village inn, they had to settle for a
stable and a manger for the baby’s birth - like so many migrants and refugees
today, turned away from one border or other and forced to fend for themselves.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph soon became political refugees themselves when, like
millions of displaced persons today, they were forced to flee through a hostile
environment to find shelter in a foreign country. Fortunately for them, Egypt’s
border was open, unlike so many borders today.
We have no newsreels or
YouTube videos from the 1st century to document the Holy Family’s
flight from Herod’s terror. But we have more than enough images in today’s world
to show us just what their flight must have been like. Herod himself, for all his royal pretensions,
was not a member of Israel’s real royal family, the house of David. He was just
another minor warlord whose rule was convenient for Roman imperial power, much
as tyrannical local warlords rule in many places today because they serve the
interests of bigger regional powers.
We have images from
today’s news to help us picture that first Christmas. But we also have
something more. We have the gospel story, the story that tells us not only what
happened but why, when God entered this world as one of us – as we say
all the time in the Creed, kneeling today to give it added emphasis, for us and for
our salvation.
Not everyone welcomed
God’s coming into our world. Not everyone welcomes him now. But, as John’s
gospel assures us, to those who do welcome him, he gives power to become
children of God, the God we can count on to fill our lives with his overflowing
grace and mercy. As St. Augustine (354-430) so succinctly expressed it centuries ago: “If
[God’s] Word had not become flesh and had not dwelt among us, we would have had
to believe that there was no connection between God and humanity and we would
have been in despair.”
But
instead, because of Christmas, we now do have an alternative to despair! Hence
the angel’s reassuring words to the shepherds: Do not be afraid! We will hear them again at Easter, from the Risen
Lord speaking to his disciples, the same Risen Lord who comes to us again and
again whenever we celebrate the Eucharist.
By the
way, next time you watch A Charlie Brown
Christmas (which I have watched every year since its debut 50 years ago), be sure to notice how even Linus drops his blanket at the moment
when he recites those words, Fear not!
Of
course, the shepherds at Christmas and the disciples at Easter really were
afraid – and for some very good reasons. And for all our happy holiday cheer,
so perhaps are we, as we come to the end of another difficult and challenging
year and look ahead – with hope, to be sure, but also with anxiety. It’s not
for nothing that we pray every day at Mass that
we may be safe from all distress, as we await the blessed hope and the coming
of our Savior, Jesus Christ.
Our
distress may be real enough, and our anxiety about it honest, but so must be
our hope - the blessed hope and the
coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ, who fills us with his grace and mercy
and takes away all our fear.
That is
why we celebrate Jesus’ birth not with a birthday cake but with the Eucharist,
the Body and Blood of the Risen Christ. For this is not some nostalgic holiday
pageant. And the baby whose birth we celebrate is not just some distantly
ancient historical figure, but God-with-us!
So, while we may not
need to do all the things we do that can make Christmas seem so stressful, we do
very much need Christmas!
The God who became human
in Jesus is inviting us this Christmas to take seriously his coming into our
world – as Pope Francis has said, to be “convinced from personal experience
that it is not the same thing to have known Jesus as not to have known him.”
Taking seriously Christ’s coming into our world means making ours as well the
commitment that he himself made when he became one of us in our world on
Christmas – in the wonderful words of Charles Wesley’s familiar carol: Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and
sinners reconciled.
Once again this
Christmas, Christ comes into our world bringing his peace and mercy and
reconciling us to God and one another. And so he invites us to take seriously
his coming into our world - to overcome whatever barriers remain between us,
between young and old, rich and poor, healthy and sick, native and immigrant,
friend and foe.
So every time we come
up our hill to this bright and beautiful church to hear this familiar Christmas
story, it must really become our story too, challenging us to bring the
brightness and beauty we experience in this church with us back down the hill into
the streets and neighborhoods, the homes and living rooms of our city, and so
to reimagine our world – and, in so doing, to transform our fear into hope, our frustration into
fulfillment, our sadness into joy, our hatred into love, our loneliness into
community, our rivals and competitors into brothers and sisters, and our
inevitable death into eternal life.
Merry Christmas!
Christmas Homily, Immaculate Conception Church, Knoxville, TN, December 25, 2015.
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