Christmas Season 2022: May the love of God be born again in us

The Christmas story invites us to enter the world, not of the famous or rich, but of the hidden and needy, says Arthur Cardinal Roche, Prefect of the Dicastery for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments, in his Christmas message for 2022.

The English Cardinal contrasts the story of the Nativity at the beginning of the New Testament, with the story of Adam and Eve at the beginning of the Old, where the first humans “reached up to grasp what belonged to God alone, and fell back down to a hard reality: the earth from which they came.”

On the contrary, visiting the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem today, pilgrims must bend down to enter the great Basilica by a tiny door. “Christmas,” says Cardinal Roche, “reminds us never to forget the need always to bend down before the beauty and the love of God and never to forget the reality of the earth where we live and the many needs of those we sometimes pass by.”

Recalling Jesus' desire to dwell in the “humble surroundings” of our hearts, Cardinal Roche concludes his message with the hope that “the love of God in this fragile Child [might] be born again in our own fragile lives.”

Cardinal Arthur Roche's Message for Christmas 2022

Whenever we hear the Christmas story being told, we enter into a world not of the celebrity or the rich, but of the hidden and of the needy. We come face to face with perspectives on reality that we do not always find in the headlines of the news. The evangelists who wrote the story of the birth of Christ move our attention from the power centres of their world to a little town, Bethlehem, hidden in the hill country of Judea. They guide our focus from the world of Caesar and King Herod to a young couple who are homeless, a little frightened and in great need, and to others like the shepherds, whose names are not even recorded. As we enter further into this story, we find ourselves gazing on a fragile newborn baby wrapped up like a little parcel and lying in a manger borrowed from the animals.

This is the beginning of the New Testament, an unbreakable and clearly visible solidarity of God with His people. What a contrast when we compare it with the beginning of the Old Testament. There we see another couple, Adam and Eve, the first human beings created by God, going for the big prize and the big headlines. We hear the serpent whisper in their ear, "Go for it! For then you, too, will be like gods having all knowledge and control over life." It was very tempting. And Adam and Eve reached up to grasp what belonged to God alone and fell back down to a hard reality: the earth from which they were made.

Today, if you or I were to go to the church, which is built over the place where our Lord was born, we would have to crouch down to bend low in order to enter that great Basilica through a tiny door. The great triumphal entrance that used to be there has now long since been blocked up to stop bandits on horseback - or in more recent times, army tanks - from entering. The feast of Christmas calls each of us to get down from our high horses to bend low, to shift our focus of attention from the power and wealth centres of this world, and to discover in the fragile Child the God who lives among us.

The high horse on which we perch ourselves may simply be the thought that we are above all the mess in our present world today, that it doesn't matter and we have nothing to give to it. What a great opportunity was missed and how very different things might have been today, when on the eve of Christmas in 1914, ordinary Tommy, some of whom you and I might have been related to, and plain Jerry, the ancestor of many in present-day Germany, forgot the orders of the world's powerful and on no man's land between their two opposing trenches, they sang songs, shared their cigarettes and the photographs of their loved ones, and even played football together. The little things of life brought together those whom the politics of power and control had divided. It would have been an ideal moment to end all hostilities, but it didn't, because, like all humanity, we are prone to pride and go after things beyond our reach.

Christmas reminds us never to forget the need always to bend down before the beauty and the love of God and never to forget the reality of the earth where we live and the many needs of those we sometimes pass by. Our faith tells us that through our baptism, God lives deep within each one of us. We may not be the most perfect of dwelling places in which to live, but we need not be afraid of our own poverty and great need because Jesus knows about those humble surroundings all too well and is happy to make his home deep within each one of us. The good news is that the message of Christ has much to offer this world of ours. And you and I, like the shepherds in Bethlehem, may come and go, our name is not even known to successive generations. But God knows our names. And even if our lives are poor, let us pray that we may not be like the innkeeper who had no room for the Lord, nor for the homeless young couple on the street outside, either in his own soul or in his own home.

May the love of God in this fragile Child be born again in our own fragile lives.

And may the grace of God our Father, and the love of Jesus our Lord, be with us always.

Arthur Cardinal Roche
Prefect
Dicastery for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments

Cardinal Arthur Roche