Letter for the year
Madonna and Child, Brother Eric, Taizé
"Glory to God in the highest heaven and peace to his people on earth!" Since this hymn first rang out, ever since that night when the angels sang it, so many wars have been waged; so much injustice and violence has plagued humanity. The very story of Christmas is told with a tragic backdrop: the Emperor Augustus claimed to have brought peace throughout his empire, but it was only a pseudo-peace, established at the cost of countless forms of oppression.
In these days of Christmas, I myself am still affected by the words of a young Rwandan called Clarisse that I heard a few weeks ago. We were in Nairobi, Kenya. With the Churches of that city, our community had prepared a young adult meeting for late November. It was an African stage of our “pilgrimage of trust on earth.” Young people from fifteen African countries were present. Clarisse uttered these words: “Tell people in Europe to pray for the youth of Rwanda. In our situation unemployment is devastating us. And there are all those who, because of the suffering endured during the genocide, can no longer believe in God or even believe in life.”
Although these young people had experienced troubles, there was also happiness. Surprising as it may seem, in Africa the difficulties of life do not banish joy; a serious outlook does not exclude dancing. Vitality sprang up, especially in the songs of praise during the times of prayer together. Seven thousand young people singing all together released an extraordinary energy, arising from their depths. After the Bible readings, a long silence expressed a common longing, whether from Kikujus, Luos, Masai, Congolese or Rwandans, for peace on earth!
With these young Africans, we are reminded that the Gospel opens with the great hope of Christmas night. God did not send his Son so that nothing would change. His glory in heaven is peace on earth. But this peace is not imposed from above. The Gospel tells of the utterly unexpected way in which God acts with humanity. God comes in Jesus to ask everyone, generation after generation, to participate in his work of reconciliation. So even in the darkest hours, the promise of Christmas is a source of perseverance for those seeking to build peace where it is threatened.
At Christmas, we understand that peace is a gift from God and that it is important first of all to welcome it. We are called to a true conversion, by turning towards the child in the manger. Without this change of heart there is no peace, only the appearance of peace, like the peace of the Emperor Augustus. "Begin the work of peace in yourself so that, once at peace yourself, you can bring peace to others," said Saint Ambrose.
When we celebrate Christmas, God brings peace of heart to birth in us. We draw this peace from the confidence that God loves humanity, all people without distinction.
But for many of our contemporaries, to hear such words about the love of God seems too easy. Many are seriously seeking meaning for their lives, and yet they cannot believe in a personal God who loves them. Do we pay enough attention to those whose search for faith confronts them with a God who is incomprehensible?
At Christmas we celebrate a God who comes close, but we do not want to forget that God will always remain beyond what we can understand. Let us open our hearts and our minds as much as we can to these two dimensions of the mystery of God: his closeness and his transcendence.
All are not able to grasp these two dimensions. Some are affected by God’s presence close at hand; it is almost something their heart can feel. Others, such as Mother Teresa, experience God especially in his silence. Yet it is possible to walk together in the steps of Jesus: he knew both the great closeness of God and God’s silence. The Fathers of the Church spoke so well of both the Incarnation and the incomprehensibility of God, simultaneously.
Christian faith appears then as a risk, as the audacity of trust. The whole Bible leads us to that assurance: it is the absolutely transcendent God who comes to speak in a language accessible to us.
Meditating on the closeness of God manifested at Christmas will always cause astonishment. The Word became flesh. God became vulnerable. Saint Augustine insists: his Word becomes a small child unable to speak. From the moment of his birth Jesus was cast into insecurity, the instability of human existence. Soon afterwards, with Mary and Joseph he endured persecution and exile.
At Christmas, the shadow of the cross is already there. For, by taking flesh, God chose to take human frailty upon himself. He comes to dwell in our divisions and our suffering. Christ joins us at the lowest point; he becomes mortal like us so as better to hold out his hand to us.
Through the coming of Jesus, God enters into a true exchange. He takes upon himself our humanity and in that way our own person. In exchange, he communicates his life to us. Mary is the guarantee that this exchange is real; it bears the promise that it will lead to the reconciliation of humanity with God.
Let us dare to recognize the presence of God in the child lying in the manger. Let us welcome his peace, and with it the hope of peace for the world. At Christmas God sends us to communicate this peace around us. Our world needs courageous men and women who express by the lives they lead the Gospel’s call to reconciliation.
It is good to remember that, in the course of history, sometimes it took just a few people to tip the scales towards peace. The trust and courage of one woman, the Virgin Mary, were enough to let God enter our humanity. Let that trust and that courage lead us on. We can read them in the eyes of the Virgin and Child reproduced here, inspired by the face of a young African woman.