emories of the Christmas mangers of my childhood recall the smell of moss gathered in due time from the cliffs overlooking the river Treste, of pieces of glass inserted into the greens to mimic peaceful ponds, of little cottages climbing gentle slopes rising above the far-away valley, whence came, incredulous and hesitating, groups of shepherds fascinated by a bright spot hovering over a distant hovel.
My first Christmas in the States, I built one such manger in our house in Springfield, MA. It took over half of our living room. But it was such a novelty, and so dainty, that the local newspaper sent a reporter and a photographer to the house and my manger graced their front page of the paper on Christmas day of 1956.
A picturesque corollary, this, which however, my young imagination was able to load with simple yet profound poetry, according to which the advent of God into the history of
humankind did not call for astonishing signs, but came about in the most extreme simplicity.
Hence the manger, the ox, the ass, the humble hut express well all the paradox of the Babe come into the world in a scenario of humility and poverty which will be the constant of his whole existence.
His birth is first announced to shepherds.
But, these shepherds, who are they?
Since I was a child, and as it has happened in the popular imagination, I always thought that they were meek people, lovers of nature, but hardened by their tough job.
In fact, history reveals to us a harsher image of these people, marginalized, rough, often with a band name, often given to thievery.
It’s the shepherds who are encircled by the glory of the Lord to signify that this encounter enlightens them fully, transforming their very life. Perhaps, we too are often in the dark like these shepherds.
And so, how to “read” this presence of theirs, so much up front? Probably – and, as the years have passed, this has been the key to my reading it – in this way: if the announcement has been given first to the shepherds, who are in the night (the hint is beautifully symbolic!), it means that Jesus has come above all for sinners! Salvation offered to the shepherds, is meaningfully made manifest by the light which surrounds them, and by the gospel announcement which proclaims peace on earth to men, because they are loved by the divine benevolence.
And not the angels enfolded in light, but it’s the shepherds who are encircled by the glory of the Lord to signify that this encounter enlightens them fully, transforming their very life.
Perhaps, we too are often in the dark like these shepherds.
Today, however, on Christmas day, also to us is offered the “glad tidings” so that in the decision of faith, we may “go up to Bethlehem” and identify ourselves with the mystery…
Of a God who, out of love for us, became a little Babe.
Of a God who, in order to make of us His sons and daughters forever, has become a son of man destined to die.
Of a longing God who are desired to be with us, to reveal himself to us, that he became one of us.
Of a God who, by taking on our humanity, also opened himself to suffering.
Of a God, one could say, who knows what it is like to suffer, is a “man acquainted with grief.” Like a close friend who has been through an illness or tragedy that we now face, we feel comforted by this shared experience and can allow that friend to share in our suffering more easily.
Of a Christ whose first response to suffering was to heal and to console.
Of a Christ whose story includes the mystery of the Resurrection, which shows us that suffering and death do not have the final say, that the power of God and of life is always stronger than death or evil, that love is stronger than hate, good is stronger than evil, and life is stronger than death.
Christmas is the mystery of a Christ who has become poor for us so that we may become rich by means of his poverty.
(From Xaverian Mission Newsletter)