Christmas Homily
A very blessed and Merry Christmas to you all. Let’s reflect together on why today is
so extraordinary. Christmas, if we see it only as a quaint family celebration or a sentimental
winter holiday, is tragically diminished. In truth, Christmas marks the most subversive,
transformative, and hope-filled claim imaginable: God became a baby.
- The Humility of the Divine Child
Picture that child cradled in Mary’s arms. In the ancient world, Caesar Augustus was
the mightiest figure—exercising near-absolute power over life and death. Yet the Gospels tell
us of a child born far from imperial splendor. It’s almost comical, if you think about it: the
world’s true King does not appear on a marble throne but lies in a manger where animals
feed. Why would God do this?
Saint John gives us a clue: “In the beginning was the Word…and the Word was
God.” The infinite Creator, the sheer act of existence itself, has chosen to pitch His tent
among us—to tabernacle in our messy, vulnerable condition. This was the stroke of divine
genius. Who can resist a baby? God has tried prophets, patriarchs, laws, and covenants, yet
we still run the other way. But when we see this helpless infant, we can’t help but be moved
to compassion and awe.
- A Breakthrough in the Stable of Our Hearts
Archbishop Fulton Sheen once told a story of a leading actress, lost in sin and
confusion, who fell asleep, half-frozen against a church door. She found neither judgment
nor scorn but a coffee cup’s warmth and a patient invitation. That small act of love led her,
eventually, to a radical interior transformation—she experienced a “breakthrough,” as Sheen
called it, not into a physical crib, but into the stable of her own heart.
The Christmas Child means exactly this: God comes quietly, slipping behind enemy
lines. He doesn’t blow open the doors of our hearts but invites us so gently that even our
sins, our shame, our cynicism begin to melt. We are stables, often messy, dusty, filled with
the noise of our worries. And yet, there is no place God would rather be born than in the
hidden corners of our complicated lives.
- The Jewish Roots of Christmas
Consider also the deep Jewishness of this story. The angel tells Mary that her son
will sit on the throne of David forever, fulfilling 2 Samuel 7. When Mary visits Elizabeth in the
hill country of Judah, we recall David dancing before the Ark of the Covenant. Now Mary, the
new Ark, carries within her the living presence of the Lord Himself. And when Joseph and
Mary bring Jesus into the Temple, God’s glory—once said to have departed—returns
through this child.
This is no standalone myth; it is the culmination of Israel’s entire story. Every
covenant, from Abraham to Moses, all the prophetic hopes, lead to this moment: “The Word
became flesh and made His dwelling among us.” Christmas stands on the shoulders of
millennia of God’s relentless quest for us.
- A New Kind of King and a New Kind of Battle
The Nativity in Luke is more than sweet images of shepherds and angels; it’s the
unveiling of a divine warrior. Caesar, with all his legions, can crush foes by force. But Jesus
arrives with an “army” of angels who sing, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace.”
They wield no swords but fight with love, forgiveness, and justice. He is the new King who
conquers not by violence but by vulnerable grace.
And we see the final battle on Calvary. There, this baby—grown to
adulthood—absorbs all sin, cruelty, and betrayal, meeting them not with vengeance but with
Father, forgive them. God wins by losing, triumphs by giving Himself away. The cross and
resurrection seal the victory of love.
- God’s Face in the Poor and Vulnerable
One enduring challenge: if God became vulnerable for our sake, how do we respond
to those who are vulnerable around us—refugees, the homeless, the unborn child, the lonely
elder? Down the centuries, the Church has insisted that when we serve the poor, we serve
Christ. Mother Teresa called the face of the suffering “Christ in his most distressing
disguise.” This is not sugary sentimentality. It’s the logic of the Incarnation: if God took flesh,
all flesh is charged with divine dignity—especially the broken and the marginalized.
- Embrace the True Christmas
So, friends, as you gather with loved ones today, watch what happens when a baby
is in the room: all conversation stops, arguments pause, everyone wants to see the child. Let
this be a reminder. Christmas is not simply about reuniting with family or exchanging gifts; it
is about encountering the unstoppable power of divine love, wrapped in the smallest,
weakest form—a baby. Let your heart be that stable. Let Jesus be born anew in you.
And from that place, share His warmth and compassion with your neighbor—not
because of what they can do for you, but because they, too, bear the image of God. That is
Christmas: an invitation to surrender our fear, our self-absorption, and let God’s boundless
mercy and love reign.
May you have a blessed, life-changing encounter with the Christ Child this day. And
may the world, so divided and weary, feel again the shock of hope in the King who became
food for the world, the warrior who wages peace.
Merry Christmas, and God bless you all.