Simplicity of Christmas
THE SIMPLICITY OF XMAS
On Monday 24 November 1986, an airplane landed and taxied to a standstill at Canberra airport.
Two men stepped out of the front door of the plane. They were Father Tucci and Commander Cibin.
Shortly afterwards, three people entered the aircraft. They were Archbishop Brambilla, Archbishop Clancy and Mr. Duncan Anderson.
Then after a considerable pause, a white cassocked figure appeared, walked down the stairway to the cheers of the
waiting crowds. On reaching the ground, he fell upon his knees and kissed it.
The Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, had arrived in Australia for a five day visit.
He was followed, at a suitable distance by Archbishop Clancy, Cardinal Cassroli, Cardinal Tomko, Archbishop Martinez Somalo, Bishop Martin, Archbishop Brambilla, Archbishop Rigali, Monsignor Stanislaw Dziwisz, Monsignor Emil Tacherrig, Monsignor Tadeusz Rakoczy, Father Sesto Quercetti, Dr. Buzzonetti, Dr. Miecyslaw Wisloski and Mr. Angelo Gugel.
Meanwhile, from the back door of the aircraft more passengers were stepping upon Australian shore. First came Monsignor Magee who went straight off to the site for the open air Mass. He was followed by Dr. Navarro-Valls, Dr. Angelo Scelzo, Dr. Alberto Gasbarri, Mr. Pietro Mancinelli, Mr. Alberto Coroni, Mr. Arturo Mari, Mr. Peter Hasler, Mr. Hans Roggen, Mr. Mario Rubin, Mr. Gianfilippo Albini, Mr. Egildo Biocca, Mr. Giuliano Berloni, Mr. Renzo Alocci and Mr. Antonio Morgillo.
But wait a minute, there are still more to come. Stepping down behind them were 75 Vatican Press men.
The Holy Father had arrived with his entourage of 105 attendants.
All that happened in 1986. For many, it is now forgotten as an event in the past. After a minor hiccup of five days, life went on the same way as before.
As I watched the scene at Canberra airport on TV, I could not but reflect that, when God in Christ visited this world,
2,000 years ago, he slipped into history, unannounced and alone.
There were no TV cameras. No press men. No red carpet. No government official. No God-mobile.
His reception committee consisted of a young teenage girl and a craftsperson from Nazareth. The only crowd he drew was a handful of men from the fields, with dirt under their finger nails and the smell of sheep clinging to their clothes. Men who were considered beyond the religious pale because their work prevented them from observing the religious rites of cleansing.
Canberra and Bethlehem - What a contrast!
And yet, 2,000 years later, we continue to celebrate this humble event in cathedrals, churches and chapels, all around the world.
Why?
Unlike the hiccup of the Pope's visit to Australia, this visitor has left a lasting impression upon the life of the world. An impression which cannot be easily dismissed or forgotten. As Philip Brooks once observed, "I am within the mark when I say that all the armies that ever marched, and all the navies that were ever built, and all the parliaments that ever sat, and all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of man upon this earth as powerfully as that one solitary life."
Unaware of the visitor who had arrived at the back of the inn, celebrations continued at the front of the inn and they all went home at closing time. However, the subsequent celebration of the arrival of that "one solitary life" has continued ever since.
Part of the popular appeal of the Christmas story, expressed imaginatively by the NT writers in the language of narrative, poetry and symbolism, is the nature of that arrival and what it tells us about the character of God.
When God in Christ visited this planet, he did not come in power and glory, strutting upon the world stage like a proud
peacock, forcing attention upon himself. He did not come as a celebrity at the end of a major public relations exercise. He did not come as some tele evangelist heralded by pomp and ceremony.
Much rather, he came as a helpless, defenceless infant who awakened the hearts and minds of those around to receive him.
Quietly and unobtrusively, he slipped into the life of the world, in the darkness of the starlit night.
And this continues to be the nature of the Christian God.
God never forces himself upon us.
He merely slips into our lives, awakening our hearts and minds as we allow ourselves to be open to receive him. Like
the innkeeper at Bethlehem, we can choose to be closed or, like Mary, we can choose to be open. The choice is ours! He does not force himself upon us because that is against his character.
Yet all too often we look for a God who makes his presence felt.
We look for that blinding flash which will bring the instant cure; the immediate relief and the solution to the problem.
But that is not the way of the God revealed at Bethlehem. How often have you gone to bed, bewildered and confused with a problem and difficulty on your mind, only to awaken in the morning with the answer staring you in the face?
How often have you stayed up all night nursing a sick relative, only to find you have the strength to carry on nursing them through the coming day and night?
How often have you come to church reluctantly out of a sense of duty, only to go home full of joy and happiness?
Yes, God slips into our lives day after day and is born again, as he was in Bethlehem.
It is a God who comes in weakness and speaks to our weakness.
May you this Christmas time, in your human weakness, know the God who slips unobtrusively into your life, and may your hearts and minds be open to receive him.