it's not about the big and the grand

This homily is partly an attempt to articulate my feelings as a seminary formator of these young boys triggered by my appointment by the administration as an investigator of a major crime committed in our seminary community, and hounded and perhaps harassed since last night by our readings today after making my recommendations which might trigger a deluge of expulsions, if not now then in the near future.
I don’t know how this reflection on the word of God will suit you. Probably God will find a way to fit them into your hearts. After all it is his word and not mine.


What triggered this reflection was a card left secretly in my room by somebody who run hurriedly afraid that I may find out who he was. I was in my room then. I got the Christmas bag and he gave me a rosary and a Christmas card which says. “Fr. Andy, First of all I want to greet you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I want to thank you for all the things that you have given to me, like the love and friendship that you have shared on me as my Father in this formation house. I really thank you. May God shower you more blessings. Thank you very, very much, Love . . . ” and he signed his name. He is a 12 year old boy and one of those I recommended expelled.
As I pondered quietly last night I was harassed by questions which would leave me thinking until 3 in the morning, asking questions triggered by that little boy and by our readings today.
Could I believe that something so small, so weak, so fragile could someday walk free and stand tall and be joyful? Could I believe that something so hidden, so unknown, too obscure will one day have a future?
I have been in the city too much too long that I have acquired probably the insensitivity of city dwellers. I have forgotten already to look up and watch a twinkling star and see in it the immensity of the universe. I have forgotten to pause for a while and look through the window and watch the drops of rain and see through it the beauty of the world. I have forgotten to appreciate the little notes like do, re, mi and hear in them a chorale.
In a kind of life that has been barraged by slogans to think globally, most of the time I forget to consider the individual, and the future and the promise he holds. In my years of giving sermons in big churches filled with people, overflowing at times, I failed to see individual faces and the stories behind those faces and the hopes that glow behind those eyes.
Our readings talk to us about the obscure, the unknown, the little, the hidden, the insignificant and the simple. The first reading talks about the promise that will come from an obscure and unknown place called Bethlehem. The second reading talks about that simple and so little statement, often belittled, often repeated, often unheeded, “yes I come to do your will,” and speaks of the tremendous powers that came from this, that once and for all redeemed the world. The gospel talks of an unknown woman from another obscure town of Nazareth traveling in haste to an insignificant town hidden amidst the hills to an equally unknown woman whose meeting elicited statements which would be repeated for two thousand years on the lips of the simple, the mystics and the great – “Blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” It talks about two hidden fetuses, buried in the darkness of their mothers’ wombs whose meeting was felt rather than seen which brought uncontainable joy and gladness to the other, so much so that it leapt, it jumped in her mother’s womb.
Could I believe that something so small, so weak, so fragile would someday walk free and stand tall and be joyful? Could I believe that something so hidden, so insignificant, too obscure will one day have a future?
This is what the preparations for the birth of our Lord is all about. This is what the hurry and the hassle that we go through in our preparations for Christmas means. Christmas is a big feast that is big in everything – big preparations, big Christmas lanterns, big Christmas trees, big belen, big bonuses. If it is not big it is grand: grand choir, grand noche Buena, grand Christmas parties, grand preparations. But lest we forget, Christmas is about something small, something unknown, something insignificant and obscure. We have to turn Christmas back to where it begun to see big in the small, to see the insignificant as something significant, to see in weakness and in frailty the strength and power of God.
This Christmas let us ask for eyes that see beyond the insignificant and the obscure and see that it speaks more than what we want to hear and what we want to conclude using our human logic. Look at the street children and see in them the future of our country and city. Look at the seminarians I have here and see in them the future of the church. Look at the child sitting beside you and see beyond their restlessness and powerlessness and see in them the power to conquer and walk what you have not dared trod. Take a second look at the foolishness and restiveness of teenagers and see in them the many and endless possibilities they can become. You have before your eyes bundles of possibilities.
Take a look at the insignificant dreams that you sometimes dismiss from your mind, take a second look, for it could propel you to something big and something new and meaningful. Take a second look at the insignificant snubs you made, the insignificant and tackless comments you said or probably the unknown and hidden suspicion you made in the privacy of your mind and you will see that a dent, a mistrust and jealousy have been created. But also consider the little but meaningful things you did and see the wonders it can make in relationships and friendships.
Advent and Christmas is not about the big and the grand. It is about the obscure, the insignificant, the hidden, the weak and the frail. Advent is not just waiting and confessing and worshipping and preparing. It is acquiring a new way of looking at this obscure, insignificant, hidden, weak and frail things, persons and events we take for granted.
As I go back to my community this evening probably I will see things differently after a barrage of crimes and suspicions that have dimmed my outlook for many days now. Probably I will regain back the wonder that will make me see beyond that frail little boy. Probably the Lord will grant me again the eyes that will see beyond the obscure, insignificant, hidden, weak and frail which I took for granted in this little child. I do not know by now how the administration would decide. Probably they have already decided to send him out, for his own good and for his future. When I come to know about it tonight I would grieve and probably cry, for that little boy has done to me what the little boy in the manger did to the shepherds and the wise men 2 thousand years ago. He opened my eyes to the wonder of the simple, the frail, the weak and the insignificant, and opened my heart to the marvels of surprises and the unexpected which they bring. When I have come to that realization then Advent was indeed meaningful and my Christmas this year would be a Christmas not so unlike the first. So be it and may it also be to you.