This afternoon I was present in the Illinois capitol building for the annual Capitol City Nativity Blessing, at which I was invited to say a few words, the text of which was as follows:
Capitol
City Nativity Blessing
As we gather around the crèche displayed
in this Capitol building, it is as if we have heeded the call of those ancient
shepherds who said to one another, “Let us go, then, to Bethlehem to see this
thing that has taken place” (Luke 2:15). This “thing,” of course, is what the
choir of angels announced to them, namely, the Birth of the Son of God and of
Mary.
The reliquary in Santa Maria Maggiore |
Centuries later, though many centuries before us, Saint Jerome – who heeded the cry of the shepherds and moved to Bethlehem to be near the place where the Lord Jesus was born - once cried out in frustration, “Oh, if only I could see that manger in which the Lord was laid!”[1] A very good grumbler, though a holy one, he went on to complain, saying:
As a tribute of honor, we Christians have now removed the mud-baked [reliquary] and replaced it with a silver one; but the one that has been removed is more precious to me! Silver and gold are appropriate for the pagan world: the manger of baked mud is more fitting for the Christian faith.[2]
Pilgrims who visit the relic of
the manger now housed in the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome know
something of what Jerome complained as they peer in between the sparkle and
shine of the silver and gold to behold the wood of the manger.
The chapel at Greccio |
Centuries after Saint Jerome, and
yet still centuries before us, Saint Francis of Assisi also desired to heed the
cry of the shepherds and see the place where the Lord Jesus was born and the
manger in which he was laid. Moreover, he wanted to help others do the same. This
is why in 1223 he asked Pope Honorious III for permission to fulfill his desire
“to portray the Child born in Bethlehem and to see somehow with my bodily eyes
the hardship he underwent because he lacked all a newborn’s needs, the way he
was placed in a manger and how he lay on the hay between the ox and the ass.”[3]
Nearly eight centuries later,
Catholics are still erecting Nativities in their homes, churches, and in public
places so everyone who looks upon them might spiritually go to Bethlehem with
the shepherds and see the manger in which the Lord Jesus was laid. Happily,
this tradition is now embraced by many of our Protestant brothers and sisters,
as well, who join us in using statues both small and large to envision what
those shepherds beheld that caused them to return to their fields “glorifying
and praising God for all they had heard and seen” as a way to enter more fully into
the mystery of the Lord’s Birth (Luke 2:20).
It is curious to note that Saint
Francis requested two additions to our Nativity displays that neither Saint
Matthew nor Saint Mark mention in their Infancy narratives. These, of course,
are the ox and the ass. Why, then, did Francis want them included? Many
centuries before Saint Francis, Saint Jerome, and well before the Birth of
Jesus, the Prophet Isaiah wrote, “The ox knows its owner, and the ass its
master’s crib; but Israel does not know, my people does not understand” (Isaiah
1:3).
The ox and the ass seem to ask all
who pass by, “Do you know your
Master? Do you understand and know his love?” They call us to ponder the
tremendous love God displays for us in his Incarnation and to recognize that
“God is so good that he can give up his divine splendor and come down to a
stable, so that we might find him, so that his goodness might touch us, give
itself to us, and continue to work through us.”[4]
Let us pray, then, that everyone
who looks upon this crèche and manger, ourselves included, might know their
Master, allow themselves to be touched by and understand his love, and by imitating
this self-less love, allow it to work through them in all they say and do.
On behalf of the Most Reverend
Thomas John Paprocki, Bishop of the Diocese of Springfield in Illinois, I thank
you for your efforts here today and for the public witness of your faith, and I
wish you a blessed Advent and a merry Christmas.
[1] Saint Jerome, Homily on the Nativity of the Lord, 31.
In Advent and Christmas with the Church
Fathers. Marco Pappalardo, ed. (Washington,
D.C.: United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2010), 52.
[2] Ibid.
[3] In Tomaso de Celano, First Life, XXX.84. In Brother Thomas of
Celano: The Life of St. Francis of Assisi
and The Treatise of Miracles. Catherine Bolton, trans. (Assisi, Italy:
Editrice Minerva), 80-81.
[4] Pope Benedict XVI, Homily, 24
December 2005.