Herald of Hope
For some, the celebration of Christmas already has concluded: Some stores are already taking down their Christmas decorations; several of the radio stations already have reverted to the regular musical format rather than play the holiday favorites; and I even noticed that a number of families have taken down their Christmas trees and set them on the edge of their yard for pick up.
Thankfully, we in the Church have a wonderful capacity to extend the celebration of Christmas — not for just a day but a season — through some special feast days. One of these feasts we will commemorate on Sunday, Dec. 29, the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
One of the things that I like about this feast is that it is meant to remind us that the grace of the Incarnation is expected to touch each and every corner of our lives. When God became human, he blessed all of the human condition. Since Jesus was very much a part of a family — sharing domestic life with Joseph and Mary — we are reminded that we all can encounter holiness in the day-to-day ups and downs of our homes. In my own reflection upon the Scripture readings that will be proclaimed in the celebration of the Mass this year, I found a bit of that “family holiness” in each text.
The First Reading comes from the First Book of Samuel. This is the story of the dedication of Samuel to God by his mother, Hannah, when he was just a young boy. As you know, Hannah had difficulty bearing a child. It was thought that she was barren and would never give birth, but she never gave up hope. She prayed and prayed profusely, and ultimately, she conceived.
In the text, Hannah decides to express her gratitude to God by dedicating her son to him, and she does so by entrusting Samuel to the care of the priests of the temple. To our modern ears, this might sound cruel — almost like she is abandoning her child. Actually, in ancient times, this would have been considered a real honor, a privilege. This honor is demonstrated later in the story, for Samuel is able to dwell in a most sacred shrine, which included the Ark of the Covenant. The priest Eli becomes a mentor of sorts and teaches him how to discern and follow the word of the Lord. Years later, Samuel is called by God to serve as a leader in the era of the judges of Israel, and he eventually is sent by the Lord to anoint David to be the king of Israel.
Ultimately, when you think of it, all parents are supposed to reach a point of realization that their child is supposed to be dedicated to God. That is, every parent should come to understand that the child to whom they have given birth really does not belong to them. The child was given to them by God — in trust. The goal of good parenting is to help the child realize what God wants for him or her.
Some years ago, I spoke with a former parishioner. I had baptized his son about a dozen years ago. This former parishioner was a real baseball fan, and so I asked him if his son was enjoying Little League. He said that his son wasn’t playing Little League. I was surprised, and I said, “Really? Knowing your love for baseball, I would have thought your kid would be an all-star.” But my former parishioner said, “No. My boy does not even like baseball. What he really likes is art. He likes to draw and paint and sculpt. It’s strange; when I was a kid, I had trouble even coloring between the lines of a coloring book, and my son wants to be another Michelangelo.” He paused for a moment then, and said, “But, you know what? It’s not about my son living out my dreams. It is about me helping him realize his own. And, besides,” the father added, “since you left the parish, Fr. Jeff, I had another child — a daughter. And, you know what, she is a really a good baseball player.”
Our Gospel reading today is often called the “Finding in the Temple.” It is one of the joyful mysteries of the Rosary — although, as the story unfolds, it sure doesn’t sound like the experience was overly joyful for Mary and Joseph — at least not until the conclusion of the narrative. While the main purpose of the Scripture passage is to make a theological point — to emphasize the special status of Jesus as Son of the Heavenly Father — this story also can be read from a very human perspective about the tension between Jesus and his parents about his independence. Given Mary’s pointed comments upon finding the child in the temple, it is pretty clear she thought Jesus was still somewhat of a child and not ready yet to “call his own shots.” But Jesus seems rather adamant that he was.
I think the line between childhood and adulthood is not always drawn big and bold, and it seems that young people cross that line at different paces. One of the things I used to enjoy watching over the years was the way that youth mature and want to claim some self-determination. For me, this was always on display when I would watch parents drop their children off at the grounds of the Catholic schools that I have been affiliated with. It’s really quite funny. When the children are young, the ritual of dropping them off is quite extensive. It can take a long, long time — with hugs, kisses, and multiple “I love you’s” and “goodbyes.” But, at a certain point, for most young people — somewhere in the junior high — the ritualistic nature of the drop-off disappears. In fact, in some cases, it almost looks like the teenagers don’t even want to wait for Mom or Dad to stop the car. They kind of throw open the door and hurl themselves out while the car is still rolling, with nary a sign of farewell.
Actually, I find some comfort in knowing that even Joseph and Mary had to struggle with the whole maturation and independence issue — even though their child was the Son of God. That must mean that there is something sacred about trying to negotiate that passage, with all of its messiness and uncertainty. At the end of the Gospel, it says that “Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and favor before God and man.” To me, it seems like St. Luke the Evangelist could have added that through the process of “growing pains,” Joseph and Mary did, too.
Our final biblical text — the Second Reading from the First Letter of John — is not a narrative. At first, it may seem like it does not deal specifically with concrete family life. I believe the original intention was to emphasize our status as children of God. The evangelist exclaims this bestowal joyfully. But I would like to focus on the reference of the text to the importance of keeping the commandments.
In the text, St. John presents two such commandments — believing in the name of the Son, Jesus Christ, and loving one another. Though, if you are familiar with the writings of St. John the Evangelist, one realizes that those two commandments are really one. For, as St. John later writes in another of his letters, anyone who claims to believe in the Son without living in love is a liar.
Love is everything in the writings of St. John. In fact, percentage-wise, this First Letter of John has the greatest use of the word “love” in all of the Bible. For St. John, it all depends upon love. This reminds me of a conversation that I had with a parishioner some time ago.
I was speaking with a new father, and he was ruminating about the responsibility of parenting. I think the enormity of the challenge was just starting to manifest itself. He said, “Wow! This is really something. I want to be the best parent that I can be, and I am worried that I might make a mistake.”
I smiled a bit at that, and I said, “Well, I think that you can count on that. I am pretty certain that you will make mistakes — just as every parent does in raising their children and every priest does in pastoring his parishes. We are human, and human beings make mistakes, plenty of them.” And then I added, “But you know what my parents told me? They said that it’s OK to make some mistakes in parenting. There is really only one mistake that you cannot make. That is, you can never stop loving your child. If you really and truly love your child — if you really and truly want what is best — if you really and truly want what is good for the child and not just for you, then, in the end, the other mistakes won’t matter.”
I think St. John the Evangelist would resonate with that statement. Real love can’t be faked. So, if you really do love your children, they will know it, and it will mean everything.
One of the lessons of the Feast of the Holy Family is that we can extend our celebration of Christmas by praying for families today — our own family, our extended families, our parish family and the human family. May the grace which the Son of God brought to this earth in the Incarnation continue to weave its way through every thread of life — especially in the fabric of what takes place in our homes.