Do you think Jesus was ever grounded by Mary or Joseph? What do you think? Do you
think Jesus ever got put in time-out?
Because if he did, this would surely have been the time. Can you imagine? Those of you who are parents or
grandparents…can you imagine the horror Mary and Joseph experienced once they
realized that their twelve year-old boy was missing?! I’ll bet many of you, if not most of you,
have experienced that same terror. I
know Kyle and I have. I think we’ve
“temporarily misplaced” each of our five kids at one time or another, for
varying lengths of time, in locations with varying degrees of perceived danger. You know the feeling…sheer panic. Its almost like you don’t breathe until
they’re safe in your arms…right?
Now let’s think about Mary and Joseph. They’ve gone to Jerusalem for the
Passover—just like they’d done so many times before. It had gotten to be routine. But this time, after an entire day of traveling
and looking for their son, they came to the horrifying realization that he was
not with them! So they immediately
returned to Jerusalem to search for their son—God’s son. A search that
lasted three days. Three agonizing days!
Surely, with each passing hour, with
each passing day, their fears intensified.
For one of us, it would be as if we’d left our 12 year-old to fend for
himself in New York City, or Chicago. Finally, thanks be to God, they find
him! And what does Mary say to
Jesus? “Son, why have you done this to us?
Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety.” Why have you done this to us? Hear the accusatory
nature of that question; hear the extreme hurt in Mary’s words to her son. She didn’t just say: why did you do this; or how did this happen? No, she said why have you done this to
us? His curt answer didn’t help matters much
either, as Luke says that they did not understand what he had said to
them. In spite of this though, Luke says
that “Mary kept all of these things in her heart”…in other words, the good and the bad.
On this the feast of the Holy
Family, we are challenged to look at what it means to be a family. When we enter the church, our eyes are
immediately drawn to the beautiful manger scene here in front of the atlar. During this time of year, we tend
to sentimentalize the Holy Family – they become figures of plaster and ceramic, not of flesh
and blood. We forget: they weren’t that different from us. They were holy, yes. But they were also
human. Their lives were far from
perfect; far from problem-free. The story of the Holy Family is the story of
life not always turning out as expected. It’s the story of a
teenage mother being visited by an angel and then conceiving a child before she
was married. It’s the story of a distraught Joseph, confronting scandal,
planning on divorce. It’s the story of a
family forced to become refugees, living as immigrants in the land that once held
their ancestors as slaves. As we heard
in today’s gospel, it’s the story of a missing child, and days of anxious
searching by his parents. And it’s the
story of a man’s violent death–a death watched by a mother filled with
helplessness and unimaginable sorrow. This
family was holy. But it was also human. We need to be
reminded of this in this Christmas season as we are asked to strive to be like
them. The Holy Family is indeed a
perfect model for us, but their life was far from perfect.
The Christmas season is indeed one
of light and joy– but it is also one of darkness and despair. What do I mean? Friday, we celebrated the birth of the
Savior of the world! And then yesterday,
the Church commemorated the feast of the first martyr, St. Stephen, who was
stoned to death because of his faith. Today,
we celebrate the Holy Family, but then tomorrow, we mark the feast of
the Holy Innocents--the children slaughtered by Herod. The joy of Christ’s birth is suddenly tempered
by tragic reminders of why the Incarnation was necessary. There is an interconnectedness of light and
darkness; of life and of death. I
was reminded of that connection on Christmas Eve. After the 7pm mass, we had a family picture
taken right over here. We’re in the
center of the picture, with these beautiful banners hanging over our right
shoulders, and this almost life-sized manger to our left. But back behind us, almost hidden in the
picture, is Jesus, crucified on the cross.
Right over there. Yes, there was
a light shining on Jesus Christ crucified just as there was on the baby Jesus
in the manger. In the stable, the
mother Mary looks down at a life beginning; at the foot of the cross, she looks
up at a life ending. It’s just a few steps here from the wood of the
manger to the wood of the cross. But in so many ways, the two singular
events are inseparable. One led inevitably to the other. Joy and
sorrow are almost side by side, linked by sacrifice, by faith, and by
love. It’s the story of our salvation. And it’s the story of the
Holy Family.
The juxtaposition of those two images in
this church, the crèche and the crucifix, serves as a powerful lesson for this
feast. We realize that when we speak of the Holy Family, we speak of a family
that struggled and suffered, like so many of us. But: this family also knew profound hope. They trusted completely in God. Each one of us is called to that kind of trust...
And the Holy Family is with us. In our
time, they stand beside all who worry, who struggle, who search, who pray. The Holy Family stands beside parents anxious
about their children, worrying for their welfare. The Holy Family walks with immigrants and
refugees separated from those they love.
The Holy Family comforts teenage mothers and single parents; and consoles
the prisoner, the outcast, the bullied, the scorned—and the parents who
love them. And they offer solace and
compassion to any mother or father grieving over the loss of a child. This Christmas, they weep with the parents
and family members of victims of terrorist attacks in Paris and in California,
as well as those who lost their lives by natural disaster. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph share our burdens. But they also uplift us by their example.. For
you see, in all of their trials, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph were never alone. God was always with them. They endured by His grace. They prayed. They hoped. They trusted in
God’s will. We might ask ourselves where
we can find that kind of peace and purpose in our own families, in our own
lives. One answer is in Paul’s beautiful
letter to the Colossians. It speaks
eloquently of love—but not romantic love. This letter is about how to form a healthy and
holy Christian community. And from
Paul’s words, we can draw lessons about how to form a healthy and holy
Christian family. “Put on compassion,”
Paul tells us, “kindness, humility, gentleness and patience…
and over all these, put on love; that is, the bond of perfection..”It’s just
that simple — and just that difficult. I’m sure the Holy Family had moments when
living those virtues seemed hard, or even impossible. But they did things many of us don’t. They listened to angels. They dreamed.
And they gave themselves fully to God.
They made their lives a prayer.
When we find ourselves overwhelmed, we
need to remember to look toward the crèche for help—to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. They are our model for living. But we need to see them completely,
remembering the closeness and reality of the cross. That was their life and it’s ours, too.
Yet, through all their hardships, in times of anxiety and difficulty,
persecution and tragedy—times very much like our own here today–they showed us
how to be people of faith, people of forgiveness, people of love. They show us, in other words, how to be holy. May God bless each of our families, in the
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
