new Birth of the Christ Child

The Christ Child Within Being Born out of Our Heart of Stone

 “I realize that the only way for us to stay well in the midst of the many “worlds” is to stay close to the small, vulnerable child that lives in our hearts and in every other human being. Often, we do not know that the Christ child is within us. When we discover him, we can truly rejoice.”

—Henri Nouwen in You Are the Beloved (Convergent Books 2017).

mike chapman

This image of the Christ Child coming out of stone by the sculptor

Mike Chapman is under the portico entrance from Trafalgar Square to St. Martin-in-the-Fields. It remains one of our best images of the Christ Child within. When I first saw it, it took my breath away. Unfortunately, my photography does not do it justice. Every time I visit London, I am drawn to it. It represents Christ’s birth to the world and the birth of Christ within us out of our hearts of stone.

I hear the prayer to Ezekiel, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh (36:26).”

When our heart of stone is removed, we find Christ within.

How does this feat occur? First, we are touched by the God of love. Most often, this God of love reaches us through the love of another person. It can also happen in reading, writing, being by water or trees, or any of God’s creations that emit love.

Our job is to put ourselves in a position to connect to the God of love through spiritual practices and our living in community. We are called to open our eyes, live in the present, and look for and see the love of God coming out of stone, healing the stone heart within us and in the world, especially during this Christmas season.

mike chapman st. martins in the field

Christmas Pageants

Christmas Pageants

“God sees you, not unlike when we see a child in a Christmas play. No matter how well the child acts, whether the child remembers their lines, picks up the cues, or drops the props, we’re full of delight, compassion, encouragement, and gratitude for how well the child does. We are all children of God. And God adores us.”—Br. Curtis Almquist, Society of Saint John the Evangelist

I love Christmas pageants. I love seeing the tiny faces behind bathrobes and halos, blue scarves, crowns, and towels as they carry jeweled gifts, sheep and other stuffed animals, stars, shepherd’s crooks from canes, and drums, flowers, tambourines, magic wands, and of course a new baby. They have marvelous lines, “Glory to God, Do not fear, Nothing is impossible with God, Yes, Come and See, No room in the inn, For unto you, Christ is born, All is calm, We saw his star, Peace on Earth.”

Frantic directors have no idea what will happen. Nervous parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and friends conceal illegal flash cameras needed for the darkness at most events to document each starring role. Soloists are abundant. Some of the best male singers know their voice is changing and could crack at any minute. The tiniest angels usually steal the production from the silent baby who never cries.  

 Remember Brother Almquist’s message and watch again a video of a Christmas pageant from a previous year during the pandemic, when we could not be at church in person. https://www.facebook.com/stmarkslr/videos/3823187574379067

 It is easy to see and know that God loves every one of these precious children, honoring God in this spectacle about love. God especially loves every member of this Christmas cast. God sees all of us as participants in this messy Christmas pageant that we live in daily, and God dearly loves each of us, just as God loves these children, no matter how well we remember our lines, sing our solos or keep from knocking down the scenery. 

Brueggemann, Benedict: Living in the New Year

Brueggemann, Benedict: Christians living in the new year

“The gift of Christmas contradicts everything we sense about our own life. Our world feels unsavable, and here is the baby named Jesus, ‘Save.’ Be ready to have your sense of the world contradicted by this gift from God.”—Walter Brueggemann, Devotions for Advent, Abundance, p. 67.

ed seward

We listen to the news. We become depressed. Every day, something more terrible happens. We feel helpless and powerless. The gift of love, the gift of Christmas, brings hope. I keep thinking about St. Benedict. The world is crashing all around him. Rome is being destroyed by Germanic invaders who took over his country. He tries to escape and become a hermit. It doesn’t work. He joins a community. He decides the community needs an alternative way to live together in love and consideration for others and develops The Rule of Benedict.

 This is, of course, an oversimplification of this part of history.

 The beginning of the prologue to the rule is, Listen with the ear of your heart. This is the call I hear this Christmas season. I am being called to a more intentional living of the Rule of Benedict in community. I recently reviewed the rule for a presentation for Community of Hope training. This is training for lay people in pastoral care, steeped in Benedictine Spirituality. I thank those friends who made the commitment to learn and live Benedict’s Rule. They may think I was helping them. Maybe so, but in reality, they are and continue to retrain me to live intentionally in love now and in the coming new year.

St. Benedict shared the love that came down at Christmas, learning to live in a community. My Christmas prayer is that we can also share that love with others.

war memorial chapel National Cathedral