From the Desk of Father Martin, December 25

Merry Christmas! One year I heard a man recalling one of his fondest memories of Christmas: he was serving in the military and had to work Christmas Eve in the news room. It was generally a very chaotic place, with messages coming and going from all over the world. That evening, however, the room gradually became quieter until it was almost completely silent. Periodically a message came through: “Merry Christmas from General Smith to General Anderson.” Then later, “The troops of the 105th send their fondest wishes to their families on this holy night of Christmas.” The man telling the story said it was the only time he ever could recall such peace in the world, and it all had to do with a baby born 20 centuries ago in a place very few even knew existed. Another beautiful story comes from a book titled, The Pope and the Ceo by Andreas Widmer. Widmer was a member of the Swiss Guard in the Vatican for two years and described his first Christmas away from home. He was only 20 years old and extremely homesick. Because he was one of the newest recruits, he got the unenviable task of working Christmas Eve. Having just got off the phone with his family, he spent the shift crying and feeling pretty sorry for himself. About 10:00 p.m. Pope John Paul II came out of his apartment on his way to getting ready for Midnight Mass. Here’s Widmer’s account of what happened next: “As he came out, he paused about twenty feet from me. He looked at me for some time without saying anything. Then he spoke. “You’re new! What’s your name?” he asked. I told him and he came closer, peering into my reddened eyes. He immediately understood what was going on and said, “This is your first Christmas away from home, isn’t it?” I replied in the affirmative, barely holding back tears as I answered. Yet again, he stepped closer, pausing just inches from me this time. Taking my hand with one hand and holding my elbow with the other, he pulled me slightly toward him, looked at me with his deep gray eyes, and said, “Andreas, I want to thank you for the sacrifice you are making for the Church. I will pray for you during Mass this evening.” That was all I needed. Someone had noticed my pain, someone had cared, and that someone was the Pope himself.” As we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, we remember the countless people who are not able to be with family and friends for a variety of reasons. And let’s say a prayer for whoever they are, that Christ, the Prince of Peace, may bless their sacrifice or sweeten their sorrow. One of my favorite stories of Christmas comes from another book, this one titled The Shadow of His Wings by Father Gereon Goldmann. While a prisoner of war in northern Africa, Goldmann described celebrating Midnight Mass in the most forlorn of places: “It was Christmas, a time of peace to all of good will. It was not difficult to reach the hearts of these men then with the glad tidings of Christmas. After Mass I heard confessions for hours. Tears of sorrow, together with the sacramental absolution, wiped away all wrongdoing. As penance I gave a week’s compulsory attendance at Mass; many kept it up for months after their ‘sentence’ had expired. To this day, I receive letters from some of the men who were there, telling me it was the best Christmas they ever had. It could not have been more real; we were in a barracks without windows or doors, in the cold wind that brought snow with it; the men were ragged, thin, and hungry; we did not have to visualize the poverty and want and barrenness of the first Christmas – we were living it every day. We had nothing of those things that had made Christmas such a joyous feast at home, but we felt in our hearts as never before that the Christ Child came into this world in want and poverty, and we felt this peace and joy in our hearts.”

​May you feel the love that brought Jesus to us – and may your fidelity always keep you close to Him!

Your friend in Christ, Father Martin