A God who gives

The time between Christmas and the Epiphany is my favorite time of the year to pray adoration. Why? Because I am a visual person, and before me in the chapel are the three most important events in the life of Christ…and thus our life as Christians.

First, in front of the altar, there is the baby Jesus peacefully laying in his manger. Then, lifting my gaze I find before me, on the altar, Jesus truly present in the Eucharist. And finally, lifting my eyes all the more, this time above the altar, they come to rest upon Jesus on the cross as a remembrance of His passion, death, and resurrection.

This year my reflection before these three most important historical events has been centering on God’s gift of self to us…

The baby Jesus in our chapel here in Rome is a particular little guy: that’s right, little, even though normally the baby Jesus we find in churches looks like a miniature man. Ours, instead, fits comfortably in the crook of your arm (yes we hold Him sometimes), is basically bald, is smiling so big as to have really squinty eyes, and has its arms lifted out to everyone that enters asking constantly to be held. These little arms and that smile got me thinking. Our God is a God who gives. He gives Himself to us as a helpless child. He wants to be held by us, and in a particular way He entered history abandoning Himself to the care of a young girl named Mary and her new husband Joseph. What humility and trust. He could have entered the world as an already grown, self-sufficient man – He is God after all – but He instead chose the way of patient growth, entrusting Himself to, yes, an extraordinarily virtuous, but all the same human couple. In a similar way He entrusts to our care His name and faith in Him. It is up to us to nourish this faith and allow it to grow into maturity in the people in our life, just as Mary and Joseph had the task of raising the child Jesus into full maturity knowing when to then allow Him to go out and continue this growth on His own.  

Gazing at the Eucharist, I see another aspect of the self-gift of God. While, coming into the world as a baby He entrusts Himself into the hands of Mary and Joseph, in the Eucharist He abandons Himself in the consecrated hands of the priest – a mere man with a supernatural calling. Again, Jesus is the model of humility and trust in this self-giving. For the glorious Son of God to come into the world over and over again in Masses celebrated in each moment under the appearance of a fragile piece of bread and a few drops of simple wine…just to be close to us, to become one with us, to transform us into Him through the grace of receiving His sacramental presence. He comes to us in the Eucharist just as vulnerable, if not more so, as when He was born to Mary and Joseph as a little baby boy. He gives Himself to us risking rejection, risking to be underappreciated and quickly forgotten, risking to not even be noticed at all. Our God is a God who gives without counting the costs…or better, counting the costs only for us but never for Himself. He does everything to facilitate our encountering Him, so strong is His desire for communion with us.

And this brings me to the cross. Is there a stronger example of abandonment? My God, my God why have you forsaken me?...Into your hands Father I commend my spirit. When in excruciating physical pain and under the weight of betrayal by His dearest friends, everything about His human nature was screaming injustice and demanding a “why” in the presence of the death that was becoming ever more imminent. But the Son of Man is also the Son of God, and the Son of God knows the Father. He knows the Father’s love and He, in return, loves the Father. He trusts the Father and knows that if it is the Father’s will, it is the best will. It is in this relationship of love and trust that Jesus – the King of Kings – accepts to die naked on a cross between two thieves before the eyes of His suffering mother who welcomed Him into the world 33 years earlier. In ultimate poverty He was to enter the world and in the same way He was to leave it…and all for love of us. For love of you, for love of me…the glorious King of all Eternity came into the world to give Himself to us, to suffer and to die, so that we might have life: His divine life; the abundant life that never ends.

If you get a chance this week, most churches should still have the nativity scene up in the church. Take a moment to enter in and gaze on the child Jesus abandoned in the care of Mary and Joseph. Take a look then towards the tabernacle where Jesus is truly present in the Eucharist. And finally, let your eyes fall upon the cross, the sign of the greatest act of love: the laying down of one’s life for a friend. What do these moments in the life of Christ provoke in your heart? What moves within you at the thought of the babe in swaddling clothes coming into the world with the purpose of ending up on that cross? How does this change your attitude towards His Real Presence in the Eucharist? At the least would you not be filled with gratitude? Thank Him. (Eucharist comes from the Greek word for “thanksgiving”.) And then obey the common message of the beautiful Christmas hymns we’ve been singing in these days and simply adore Him.

Oh humble Jesus. You never stop giving Yourself to us, and yet when is it that we give ourselves to You? You who are not too proud to become one of us, teach us to become like you.