“Get up, take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt. Herod will soon be looking for the child to kill him.” (Matt. 2:1-3)
n
my office, a privileged place is reserved for a little terra-cotta piece, gift
of a friend from Brazil. It captures what I think is one of the most haunting scenes
from the Gospel of Matthew – the Flight to Egypt, a moment in that
flight from the murderous cruelty of Herod.
Exhausted by the anxious trip, but now sheltered by the grove of an
oasis, Mary hugs the precious bundle which is Jesus as she rests on the ground,
the lying donkey curving around them as a pillow and providing warmth.
On the backside, Joseph half lays, eyes tired and alert to danger.
Whenever Tetheana, my five-year old friend visits me, she runs to my office, takes the lovely piece, sits on the floor and protectively cradles the Holy Family within her lap. And she wants to hear, once again, the “story of Jesus’ fright into Egypp” The awesome story bewilders her every time, as she with much tenderness caresses the little baby.
Jesus,
Mary and Joseph were people forced by circumstances beyond their control to
leave their homes and journey to strange places.
It has a very modern ring, don’t’ you think?
The Gospel takes an unblinking look at the human capacity for evil and cruelty.
In this year alone, the last of the century and of the millennium, we
have know all too well about the unbearable stories of genocide in Bosnia and
Kosovo, about seeming endless revenge in Burundi and Rwanda and the Congo and
Northern Ireland (still), about the mutilated bodies of children, women and men,
young and old, of Sierra Leone, about the fragile hopes for peace in the Middle
East and Southern Mexico or Colombia or Indonesia, and –tragically – about
our children being cut down by drugs and bullets in our own cities.
The words of the anonymous 11 century poet, who tried to capture in verse
the original scene still ring true: “Hell with your deed if full, heaven is
shut, ye have spilt the blood of guiltless, innocents.”
Not all the world’s pain is public and dramatic, however. There are a lot of people who even in comfortable circumstances feel they have lost their way, who can’t find meaning in what they do.
But the Christmas story is not meant to be an inventory of hopelessness. It is about the tenacious power of God’s love, despite our litany of failures. “It is in this hurt world – proclaims John Paul II – that the Infant Jesus, in all his love and frailty, appears.” Over that family on the road to exile a star follows and guides, the Christmas star – a blazing symbol of our love. This Christmas story touches the heart of our purpose as Xaverian Missionaries. We strive to be credible witnesses to the Gospel of peace in a world that knows too much violence. People who understand the realities of our world and yet, because of our faith, don’t give up. Hence our eagerness to return to a place like Sierra Leone whence we had to flee, where we have lost everything, have been kidnapped, tortured, and even put to death, hence the stubbornness to remain with the people to which we were sent and whose lot we take on. We are called upon to preach, and to live peacefully in a violent world, justice in a satisfied world, love in a selfish culture, faith and hope in a cynical world.
Blessed Guido M. Conforti, our founder, said it to a group of Xaverian Missionaries departing for China (Sept. 27, 1931): “The missionary is the most beautiful example, the apostle most convinced and most passionate of this universal brotherhood,” quite aware that, as Dostoevsky put it, “love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared to love in dreams.”
Xaverian
missionary in Burundi, when he died of heart failure under the stress of caring
for the refugees from Rwanda, Fr. Victor Ghirardi had just told to a group of
young people with whom he was celebrating Mass: “Believe that justice does
triumph over injustice, that human beings are not made for hunger, war, despair
or death, but that there opens before their steps the door of the Kingdom of
light and of joy, of love and of peace.”
We feel a strong responsibility – one we owe to you, our friends and
benefactors – for we do need your Christian support and your financial help.
Without you we simply cannot continue.
You are indeed our partners in mission.
There is no doubt in my mind that through your support your spirit
travels with our Xaverian missionaries, young and not-so-young, and is part of
any good we may do.
I hope you remember us in your Christmas charity. And be assured that you are remembered by name in our prayers in this season of grace. Together let us make this Christmas a Blessed One!
(From Xaverian Mission Newsletter)