Now can we be friends: Homily for Monday, December 25, 2023

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This Christmas, we celebrate the mystery of the Incarnation.

Now can we be friends?

We tossed the word miracle around a lot. When I was a junior in high school, the fact that the United States Olympic hockey team beat the Soviet Union hockey team was referred to by Al Michaels as a miracle. As a long time Red Sox fan, the fact that in 2004 they won the last eight games of the regular season to end an 86 year drought from winning the World Series, we thought of that as a miracle. When people go to the hospital and modern medical care helps them to become better, we sometimes refer to that as a miracle.

Now, I’m certainly not comparing the health of a human being to the Red Sox winning the World Series, which as an aside doesn’t look likely any time soon. But what I am saying is this, we’ve lost the sense of what a miracle is. See, a miracle is like the man in Montreal, I believe in the 40s, who had been asking for the intercession of Blessed Andre Besette, a brother, whose job, whose role, whose ministry and religious life was simply to answer the door, which seems to be a rather popular way to become a saint.

We have a lot of saints who became saints because they answered the door. And they shared their faith and they prayed for people and they were kind and hospitable. This man was at the end of his life. He had seen the doctor on a particular day and the doctor told him, you’ve only got probably a few days left to live. The cancer that you have is spread throughout your entire body and there’s nothing more we can do. This would be a good time to get things in order.

And so as he left the doctor’s office, he went and stopped at the oratory of St. Joseph, which is on Mount Royal, which is the mountain for which, it’s hardly a mountain, but anyway, it’s a hill for which the city of Montreal is named. Montréal is in fact Mount Royal in French.

And he asked for the intercession of Brother Andre. He asked him to pray for him. The next morning he felt so amazingly well that he had to go see the doctor again because he just was that well. He hadn’t felt this well in a long time and he went to the doctor and they ran all kinds of tests that day because he said, I just feel great. Great. They found not a trace of cancer. Not a trace.

Modern medical care is good and maybe someday we will be able to treat cancer overnight, but that was not true in the 1940s and there was no way it could be true. It was this miracle in fact that was used to justify canonizing Brother Andre Bessette.

Now, what’s my point? There’s no natural explanation for what happened to this man. The doctor was not being overly dramatic. What happened to this man was miraculous. And what Christmas is really about for us is to recognize the miraculous.

See, I think in our Western world, in our Western time, I would say our post-enlightenment, post-modern world, we really want everything to have a rational and reasonable explanation. But that’s not the way it is for people of faith. We need to leave room for the miraculous, the truly miraculous. And Christmas is about celebrating the truly miraculous, the belief that because Jesus has come into the world, miraculous things are possible.

And we can be a part of that miraculous work of God. I would like to talk about the greatest miracle, which is the Son of God coming into our lives, and to share really why that matters. See, sometimes in our modern world, we don’t always see the intersection between science and faith. Sometimes, in fact, when it comes to science, we think it can answer everything.

But here’s the thing. Science can tell us that a human being is a human being. Science can’t tell us that a human being has dignity. That’s the rule of faith, or philosophy, but not science. But simply, science can tell us what we can do, but not whether we should do it. That’s faith, philosophy, etc.

Now, all of this is simply to remind us that what we celebrate on this Christmas Day is that God cares so much for you and for me that He sent us His Son. That even when we sin, God loves us so much, He continues to send His Son. Which, quite frankly, might drive us a little crazy, because there are some people with whom we may not agree, or who do things, and we say, why would God forgive that person? They shouldn’t do it.

It’s easy to see that, too, in a world that is so desperately broken. I’d like to end, really, with what I think is a parable that helps us to understand the incarnation. As you hear this parable, as you hear this story, recognize that because Jesus has come into our world, and the great miracle is that we’re made in God’s image and likeness, much is expected of us once we realize it. A lot is expected of us.

But it’s really hard to understand the power of the incarnation, and so I’d like to tell a story about a puppy who knew nothing but love. This puppy was loved from the first moment of its existence, and it did not know in its life anything but love.

And the family had a big, big backyard, but to protect the puppy, they built a large fence around the backyard, and the puppy was allowed to go out and frolic in the backyard. It was wonderful. It was tremendous. It was outstanding. And the puppy was terribly happy. Until one day.

Well, it wasn’t about happiness, but it was about a problem with puppies. He witnessed a little, tiny space underneath a part of the fence. To a puppy that’s irresistible. And so the puppy starts to dig. And before long, the puppy’s paw can get under the fence, and then both paws, and then the puppy himself. And finally, the puppy is in fact outside the fence. But of course, he’s not afraid, because the only thing the puppy has known is love.

And so he goes out and he begins exploring. He’s just delighted. And off in the distance, he sees a cat. And he says, I like cats. I like to taunt them a little bit. I like them because I bark at them, I pretend that I’m going to really get them, but the truth is, I would never hurt a cat.

But as he gets closer to the cat, he recognizes that this cat is not like any other cat he’s ever seen. You see, this cat is black. Okay, he’s seen black cats. But not black cats that have a little bit of white starting on the top of their head, rolling down their head all the way up the back to a big bushy tail. You see, the puppy had never encountered a skunk.

But that’s okay, the puppy only knew love. So he goes up to the skunk and he says, you know, I’d like to be your friend. And the skunk will have none of it. “I don’t need friends.” It’s kind of odd, skunks. They think they can go through life without friends and loving relationships. Thank goodness we human beings don’t ever believe that.

The puppy is kind of taken aback and says, no, no, no, I really want to be your friend. “No. And you better stay right where you are. Because if you come any closer, I’m going to spray you with my special perfume and you’ll be sorry.”

The puppy is looking at the skunk thoroughly confused. When all of a sudden there’s an unexpected noise and the skunk is scared and he just douses the puppy with his spray.

And the puppy starts to approach the skunk. And the puppy looks at the skunk and now the skunk is getting nervous because that’s its defense. And it notices that the puppy has teeth and the puppy has claws. And maybe the skunk is in really deep trouble.

And the puppy moves closer and closer to the skunk until there they are, nose to nose, snout to snout. And the puppy opens his mouth and licks the skunk. And the puppy says to the skunk, “Now that I am just like you, now can we be friends?” And the word was made flesh and dwelt among us and we have seen his glory.

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