(The following homily was originally preached for Christmas Mass 2013 at St. Joseph Parish, Somers Point, NJ, and then further developed for a presentation at Infant Jesus Parish, Woodbury Heights, NJ)
Can you think of some of the times in your life when you have been vulnerable?
When I googled the word vulnerable, like many young people probably still do, I found the following definition: susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm.
When are we most vulnerable?
Could it be times when we share an important secret with a friend and trust that he or she will not tell anyone else? How about during the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation—in Confession—when we reveal our deepest, darkest sinfulness to a priest and we hope that we will never see him again and that he would never, ever break the seal of confession? Aren’t we emotionally vulnerable at times like these?
We might allow ourselves to be vulnerable, when we undergo some medical procedure and authorize a surgeon or physician to perform surgery or some medical procedure on us. I have been under anesthesia at least a half-dozen times in my life, and I was certainly quite vulnerable to whatever might happen to me while I was unconscious.
I’m pretty sure most of us have been up in a plane at least once. When we are up there twenty or thirty thousand feet above the ground, aren’t we just a bit vulnerable to so many things beyond our control: the expertise and physical well-being of the pilot, the maintenance and condition of the plane, unforeseen weather conditions, even random flying objects—like a flock of Canadian geese. Just ask retired US Airways Captain Chesley "Sulley" Sullenberger about that one!
I can remember quite some time ago, in my younger and stupider days, when I decided to take a sightseeing flight in a small four seat plane over the Grand Canyon. I got into the front of the plane next to the pilot. Behind us was a young couple on their honeymoon. The young pilot started giving me some emergency instructions concerning the operation and evacuation of the plane. He then looked up and smirked at me: “You’re the only co-pilot that I have!” Gulp! Is that not a good example of being vulnerable?
Aren’t a husband and a wife vulnerable to each other at so many different times and on various levels during their married lives? I suspect that this vulnerability is a large part of the pain of a divorce, at those times when it unfortunately occurs.
Certainly, the most memorable experience of being vulnerable for me was when I recall almost drowning in the Atlantic Ocean, having been caught in a forceful rip-tide. I had never felt so vulnerable in all my life! In fact, I really thought that I was going to die, having been pulled under the ferocious waves multiple times.
Well, what happened at Christmas, with the Incarnation of Our Lord, was that God became vulnerable. We see Him as a helpless infant in a manger. He couldn’t feed Himself, clean Himself, clothe Himself, or protect Himself, exactly like any newborn infant. He was completely vulnerable. There, when viewing Him in the manger, he doesn’t look like some powerful mythological god that is about to throw a lightning bolt at us if we get out of line. He doesn’t look like someone who might even call up legions of angels to protect Him or defend Him at His command. (See Jn. 18:36) In fact, He doesn’t look so tough at all there in those swaddling clothes.
Was his precious care given to an experienced mother or nanny? No, He was entrusted to “a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph.” (Lk. 1:27) Mary was, in all likelihood, still a teenager with no expertise in child-bearing—“How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” (Lk. 1:34)—or in child-rearing. Yet, God entrusted the care of His only Son to her.
And what about Joseph, her husband? God chose him to protect His only Son from the designs of the evil King Herod. Joseph had to transport both Mother and Child away from harm to a foreign land. Wasn’t the Child vulnerable to the evil plots of Herod as so many of the Holy Innocents were? Wasn’t He vulnerable to the unknown circumstances and conditions of a foreign land? Didn’t Joseph have to watch and protect Him, care for Him and support Him, as He was growing up, as any responsible father should do?
Yes, God became vulnerable when “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” (Jn. 1: 14) God entrusted His only Son into our hands. He permitted His Son to suffer and die. He allowed Him to feel pain. He allowed Him to be rejected. He allowed Him to die on a cross. He allowed Him to be vulnerable.
And so, when we think that we do God some type of favor by coming to worship Him whenever we feel like it, or we think that that God doesn’t really care about us, or that God doesn’t hear our prayers, or that God might not even really exist, take a moment and look at the vulnerable infant in the manger. See how God has completely and totally opened Himself up to us. A helpless, little baby is revealed to us, given to us.
Who came to see Him in His vulnerability? “Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock.” (Lk. 2:8) Poor shepherds were able to view a helpless, vulnerable God in a manger—in an animal feeder—located in a stable (or cave) within the city called Bethlehem—the House of Bread. Later, “magi from the east” (Mt. 2:1) arrived “offering gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.” (Mt. 2: 11) Strange, isn’t it, how these foreign dignitaries seemed to see beyond the child’s vulnerability (myrrh--an embalming oil as a symbol for death) also to perceive both His royalty (gold) and His divinity (frankincense) through their gifts. Through the magi, the entire world views a vulnerable God.
I think that Jesus continues His vulnerability with us even today by giving us Himself in the Holy Eucharist. How ordinary bread and wine can be transformed into His Body and Blood and then given to us to eat! “Take and eat; this is my Body” (Mt. 26:26) What do we do with this precious gift? Do we still somehow treat it like ordinary bread? Do we receive it worthily? Do we just go through the motions? Do we realize that Jesus is once again giving Himself to us, completely and totally? Isn’t He in some way mysteriously making Himself vulnerable to us again ? Will we or do we doubt, take for granted or even reject His unconditional love for us given in the Holy Eucharist?
Think of how vulnerable Jesus was in His public life, in His preaching and teaching, in His passion and death. He was accepted by some, rejected by others. Ultimately, he was brutally tortured and put to death on a cross because God allowed Himself to be vulnerable—to be rejected, to feel pain, to suffer. And His Mother Mary shared in this vulnerability with Him from the very beginning: “I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” (Lk. 1: 38)
Remember what was said by Simeon at the presentation of Jesus in the Temple by Joseph and Mary:
Pope Francis in his homily at Christmas midnight Mass this year (2013) spoke the following words:
The shepherds were the first to see this “tent”, to receive the news of Jesus’ birth. They were the first because they were among the last, the outcast. And they were the first because they were awake, keeping watch in the night, guarding their flocks. The pilgrim is bound by duty to keep watch and the shepherds did just that. Together with them, let us pause before the Child, let us pause in silence. Together with them, let us thank the Lord for having given Jesus to us, and with them let us raise from the depths of our hearts the praises of his fidelity: We bless you, Lord God most high, who lowered yourself for our sake. You are immense, and you made yourself small; you are rich and you made yourself poor; you are all-powerful and you made yourself vulnerable. (emphasis added)
Don’t you just love it when the Pope agrees with you!
Merry Christmas!
