Nativity of the Lord
/Nativitas D.N.I.C.
25 December 2023
At Christmas and throughout the season, we celebrate the feast of the drawing near of God, of God’s coming closer to us. Even though the most natural and immediate form of human communication is being with another, in his or her presence, sharing time with, and speaking with another, many decades of technological advancements have made the more remote, less personal, type of communication possible. And not only is that less personal communication possible but, in some cases, dare we admit, more desirable? Sort of revealing, the lesser angels of our nature. That we are happy to keep people at a distance. In addition, to these developments in communication, things have been turned upside down in recent years. Fear of a global illness caused social distancing and greater space between us, impacting the natural draw and exchange in human relationships.
But we celebrate the feast of the drawing near of God, of God’s coming closer to us. In my mind, the meaning of that coming closer is an invitation to put a focus on that most natural way human beings communicate: being personally with another, in the presence of another, sharing time with and speaking directly with another, or just being with another in uncomplicated silence. Perhaps we moderns, for all of our advantages, can actually suffer a disadvantage precisely due to our advantages. We can communicate in so many ways and even when such great distances keep us physically apart. We don’t have to pretend that such possibility isn’t a blessing. But it can also mislead us. Because we can communicate so freely and readily, even across great distances, we might be inclined to diminish the meaning of personal communication. That, in turn, might cause us to miss some of what is at stake in this feast of the great drawing near of God in the flesh.
Though we have many ways to stay connected, there is something different and more natural and fluid about that most immediate communication when personally present with another. I can recall my excitement years ago as a boy, awaiting the birth of my brother. For several months I could see that he was near but I couldn’t see him. I could see the signs in mom’s tummy that someone was there, but there was just enough distance that I couldn’t see him. There was not much of a barrier between us, just a few inches of flesh, right, but it was enough to prevent that type of more normal personal interaction. His birth changed all of that. He had come nearer and that permitted interaction and communication that was entirely new.
Christmas is all about that coming near of God to us in the flesh. As I think about how physical and personal nearness changes everything, and as I place that in the context of the spiritual life of faith, I see a connection for us to the practice of prayer. The birth of God in our midst permits an interaction and a communication that is entirely new. And here is where we moderns perhaps can fall prey to a risk, given all of our impressive means of communication across vast distances. We miss the natural and immediate value and the necessity of personal time spent with another, such that we might tend to downplay it, preferring the spectacle of communicating across distances. You can easily see this just about everywhere when you see folks together, in each other’s presence, but everyone’s face is bent down to a phone. At a restaurant, I sometimes wonder about how we have lost an art of human living, when you see a couple together and each face is lit up by a screen for long periods, such that they rarely interact directly.
Friends, God has come near to us. He is Emmanuel, a name which means “God-with-us”. He has drawn near and by His power as God that personal interaction, and relationship, and communication is possible if we practice it. And, furthermore, that personal interaction, and relationship, and communication is necessary so that we come close to God in the gift of freedom He has given us. If we celebrate Christmas, then we should not lose the lesson of developing that intimate, daily, regular encounter with the God who has drawn near to us. I dare say, a Catholic could do all the group, corporate things we do as a Church, those things we have an obligation to do, but without a personal prayer life, such a person wouldn’t be getting very far in life with God. In fulfillment of the Lord’s command at the Last Supper, “Do this in memory of me”, and in fulfillment of the divine law in the Ten Commandments to honor God on his day, we have the opportunity and the obligation to be at Mass every Sunday and every holy day. Yet, I suggest that the catholic could fulfill those obligations yet not reap the full reward of grace if we are not seeking to advance in a daily life of prayer for which we take personal responsibility. No, we can’t do without the group gathering at Holy Mass; but, even attending Mass, would remain shallow without the personal effort at prayer. Many a catholic could show up at those times when a new sacrament is offered, only to disappear until the next one is offered. While God is not cheap in His gift of grace in those sacramental moments, how stilted and undeveloped would those moments be if not for the personal effort to pray and to live that faith beyond just the moments when one “gets” something at Church?
Why would I say this? Because the meaning of what we celebrate at Christmas is that God, in taking on our flesh and being born in time, has come near to us. And He has come near so that we can remain near to Him. There is simply nothing that really adequately replaces the value of being physically and personally with another and to share life. By His power as God, although the Lord Jesus has fulfilled his physical mission on earth, he can and does remain personally present to us when we work at following the life of regular personal prayer. Such personal prayer is like preparing the soil of our lives so that all the things we do as a group, all those normal obligations we fulfill corporately as Catholics, has a good place to be planted and to come to bear much fruit. Prayer prepares the soil. The Gospel passage (from St. Luke [for the Midnight Mass]) of the events surrounding the birth of Christ places it in a real historical time and place: naming figures like Caesar Augustus and Quirinius the Governor of Syria. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have any relationship with them. They are too far away across the bounds of history. The closest I can get is to read about them on Wikipedia. But God coming near in Jesus Christ is different! Jesus is the good news of great joy proclaimed by the angel. He is for all the people. He is the Savior born for us. He is the sign of a God who has come close so as to be wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in the manger. Our coming to adore Him is not just what we do here together, as critically important and irreplaceable as that is. Our adoring of Him involves our equally drawing near to Him in our personal daily prayer wherever we are, in our coming to encounter Him in our adoration chapel, in our striving to be like Him in the moral life, and in our faithful practice of the sacramental life by which He deposits the grace of His life within us. We must work at personal prayer. We must be on guard such that modern communication methods don’t result in training us to keep a distance from God, our faces buried in screens and busy with so many things. May our prayer place us in that posture of physical and personal encounter with God such that we proclaim His glory in the highest, and such that his favor may come to rest on us!