Through the holy days beginning with Christmas I’m doing a bit of a series on the four original
Christmas carols from the first two chapters of Luke’s Gospel. At Christmas Masses I preached on the Canticle of Zechariah, John the Baptist’s father who has given us an incredible song that has become the centerpiece of the Church’s morning prayer since the first centuries. The Solemnity of Mary will match the Canticle of Mary, and the Canticle of Simeon is a nice fit for Epiphany.
The other original Christmas carol was sung by angels around Bethlehem. Surely this was a cosmic event, with every spiritual being who may happen to populate the universe singing out among the stars! But that’s just speculation, because Luke only identifies one audience: the shepherds around Bethlehem.
The other three original Christmas carols are prayed daily in the Liturgy of the Hours, but this song of the angels is prayed at Mass on most solemnities and feasts. We call it the ‘Gloria’ and it amplifies and elaborates on the simple song Luke relates: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will.”
Compared to the three other texts, this is simple enough; two short phrases. The angels start the same place Zechariah did, the same place Mary will, with praise of God. The first reaction the Incarnation is praise, of course! Praise is the heart of worship, the acknowledgment that God is amazing.
Why does that matter? Why praise God? Is He insecure? Does He get down on himself and need to be encouraged? Will He be nicer to us if we butter Him up?
Well, you know that’s all ridiculous, so… why do we praise God? The answer is in one of the Prefaces to the Eucharistic Prayer at Mass: “although you have no need of our praise,
yet our thanksgiving is itself your gift, since our praises add nothing to your greatness
but profit us for salvation.” In other words, we need to praise God. It isn’t that God needs to be praised; God doesn’t need anything. It’s that we need to praise God.
I suppose we could talk all day about the psychological benefits of remembering that we aren’t the highest thing in the universe. And about the moral benefits of remembering where our allegiance lies. And having a heart full of praise really does make a difference in your life, because if you’re amazed and captivated and just generally a really big fan of God, then that’s going to set you up to appreciate His creation, the world we live in. It’s going to set you up to appreciate His image and likeness in your neighbor. You should go out the door every day expecting to be blown away by the sheer goodness of being, just because you know Who’s behind it.
When I walk through the front door of a church designed by Michelangelo, I’m expecting to be blown away. I’m primed for appreciation, wonder, and delight. When I walk my own front door into a world designed by God… well!
I don’t mean to justify praising God on the basis of ‘what’s in it for us.’ The best reason to praise God is simply that God ought to be praised, that God is worthy of praise. It’s a matter of simple justice, of giving what is due. But it’s no surprise that getting this right, putting praise first, cascades down with benefits in our lives.
“And on Earth, peace to people of good will.” Or alternatively, “peace to those on whom His favor rests” (The translation is a fascinating topic if you’re interested in that sort of thing, but it’s a little complex so let’s skim right over that question right now.)
We talk a lot at Christmastime about peace. ‘Peace on Earth’ banners are hung all over the place, directly quoting the angels’ Gloria song. But I can’t help think of Jeremiah 6:14, when the Prophet laments: “they cry ‘Peace, Peace!’ but there is no peace.” Couldn’t we say the same today? We hang the banners, we sing the songs, but there is no peace.
Most of Iraq’s Christians have fled the country in the last decade. Of the minority who remain, many in Baghdad felt the need to at least travel to a safer part of the country during Christmastime. Khaled Yacoub is a parishioner at St. John’s Parish in Baghdad. He’d been afraid to take his family to church for a long time. Well, Khaled had heard assurances that security was good and that it would be safe, and the family went to Mass for Christmas. During the Mass they heard nearby explosions, so the priest wrapped things up as quickly as possible to get them home. On the way out a car bomb exploded. Mr. Yacoub gathered up his family and they were all safe, but at least 37 people were killed in multiple bombings Wednesday in Baghdad, Christmas Day.
 |
| St. Joseph Parish, Baghdad (AP Photo/Karim Kadim) |
When it comes to violence, let’s just leave it at that, shall we? Because we’re all too aware how easily I could multiply examples. How can we talk of peace?
Here’s how.
Andy Grosmaire sat in an intensive care room at the bedside of his 19-year-old daughter Ann. She was unconscious after being shot by her fiancé, Conor McBride, also 19. They’d been fighting for days, and he shot her. Andy and Kate, Ann’s parents, are serious Catholics. Andy is preparing for ordination as a Deacon. They hoped for a miracle, but they knew that it was probably goodbye. Andy felt his daughter saying, “forgive him.” She had bandages over her face, was intubated, unconscious, but he heard his daughter’s voice within him somehow, saying over and over, “forgive him.” Andy’s reply: “you’re asking too much.”
Conor’s father drove to the hospital. Remember, he and Andy had expected to be in-laws. During the 100-mile drive, he pulled over to vomit six times. Andy saw him come into the hospital and said, “thank you for being here, but I might hate you by the end of the week.”
After four days, with hope of recovery gone, they decided to withdraw the ventilator and let her go. Andy was praying at her side when he felt his daugter’s connection to Christ, wounded in her head and hands, and he also realized that it wasn’t only Ann asking him to forgive Conor, but Christ. He thought of this impossible request from his daughter and his Lord. “I hadn’t said no to him before, and I wasn’t going to start then. It was just a wave of joy, and I told Ann: ‘I will. I will.’ … what father can say no to his daughter?”
Before removing life support, he waited for his wife Kate to return from the jail where she had gone to face their daughter’s murderer. She was there to offer forgiveness from both of them. She said, “Conor owed us a debt he could never repay. And releasing him from that debt would release us from expecting that anything in this world could satisfy us.”
Forgiving Conor was not simply a matter of words. They had a say in his fate and sentencing. People talk a lot about punishment offering closure to the victim’s family. But Ann’s parents didn’t want to find an end through vengeance. They wanted to find the beginning of Conor’s redemption.
When I hear about bombs going off in church parking lots on Christmas, I’m think of Jeremiah: “they talk of ‘peace, peace,’ but there is no peace!” But when I hear about Andy and Kate and Ann and Conor, I think of Jesus saying: “Peace I give you, my peace I leave you…Peace the world cannot give.”
The day will come when all things are set right, when there will be no more violence and no more injustice. We call that the Last Judgment, and we long for it even as many of us, deep down, fear it. That day will come, and the time for repentance and conversion and getting your life in order will be ended. Until then, though, there is peace to be found if you know where to look.
Joseph and Mary and the newborn Jesus rest in the stable, under the strange star blazing over Bethlehem, visited by shepherds and by Magi and by God’s holy angels.They don’t have the peace of material sufficiency… don’t get romantic about the manger; how would you feel laying your newborn in a feed bin? They didn’t have physical peace, as they would soon be threatened by the murderous insanity of Herod. They didn’t have the peace of having any idea what the future held for them. And yet, we know that what those shepherds and wise men and angels found in that stable was peace. I hope Khaled Yacoub found that peace holding tight to his family when he got them home from that terrifying Christmas Mass. I hope Andy and Kate Grosmaire still feel it somewhere in their shattered hearts. I hope you feel it today, amid whatever joys and sorrows life has brought you.
One day, Christ will come as Judge and bring the final and total peace of justice. Already today, though, he comes as Savior and brings the peace of redemption. His Kingdom is not of this world, but it is among us, among all those who can hear the song of the angels on a still winter night. It happens one heart at a time. Glory to God, and Peace on Earth, one heart at a time.
Links for online sermon-readers:
Comments
Post a Comment