Christmas and the paschal
mystery
People always ask me about how busy I must be with Christmas and the
church. There is a catch phrase people use without real understanding.
They look at people like me (and you) and say, “She’s very active in the
church.” They often don’t know what it is that I do, but they know I go
to church a lot and am usually able to answer the questions they ask about
Christianity in general and Catholicism in particular. Making conversation
about pastoral ministry and the life challenges of that vocation is usually
a strain. Christmas, though, seems to be a safe topic — until I say, “Christmas
is easy. Holy Week is hard.” For those who don’t make the journey to and
through Holy Week, this is incomprehensible. To those who do, who understand
that the high point of our liturgical year is the Easter Vigil, not Christmas,
the distinction is clear. Certainly the challenges and expectations in
terms of celebration are very different. Other than crowd control, we can
make Christmas very easy. If we have “enough” of everything — bread and
wine to share, carols to sing, figures in the creche, wreaths and trees
to scent the space — most people will be happy. That’s the expectation
so many people have: that Christmas liturgies will bring them some happiness.
It’s easy to give in to that because the alternative is risky. Helping
people to focus deliberately on the paschal mystery in the celebration
of Christmas is the real challenge. Our call is to help point the way,
to shine a light on the connections between cradle and cross. Death and
resurrection are always at the center of our liturgy, yet we hesitate to
disturb the “peace” of the nativity. Without the triumph of the cross,
though, this moment is lost in time. We have the words, images, songs,
signs, and symbols to draw near to both empty tomb and infant Christ. We
just need the courage to use them.
In this issue of ML we reflect on some of the ways to apply that courage.
Michelle
Rego suggests some ways to celebrate Christmas a little differently,
choosing some “opposites” in order to probe the deeper meanings of ritual
and the season. Anne Louise Bannon tackles the challenge of the
differing lectionary texts for the various liturgies of Christmas. Proclaiming
anything other than “the Christmas story” is considered near heresy in
some communities. Perhaps we need to explore what that says about us and
whether we are truly an Easter people even at Christmas. Ed Hogan
explores
with us (in the second of a two-part feature) some ways of preparing for
and living out the ministry we share in Christ. Being authentic in all
that we do helps us to bring forth the presence of God in our ministry
and in our lives. In a different way, Alice Manzi evokes God’s presence
by her art. In her sculptural Annunciation, she offers us entry into the
mystery that began in a moment with an angel.
Meeting people wherever they are on the journey into that mystery, we
are called not only to open the doors in welcome on Christmas but to offer
those who enter the power and promise of the paschal mystery. It is a real
challenge to find the balance between celebrating the Christmas story and
celebrating Christmas. It’s worth at least reflecting on the difference
and spending some time with that reflection with those who prepare liturgy.
We have spent time this year pondering the power of the words of the
Exsultet. In it we sing, over and over, “This is the night.” We would do
well to consider how that great night of nights connects to the holy, silent
night of Christmas eve and the bright joy of Christmas day. That “night
truly blessed” puts Christmas in context. The night that “casts out hatred,
brings us peace, and humbles earthly pride” echoes the promise of redemption
begun at Christmas. That promise is of eternal life. May we have the courage
to recognize in the cradle the Christ of the cross.
What good would life have been to us,
had Christ not come as our Redeemer? ML
