Collateral Beauty

Training our eyes to see God’s beauty everywhere

Luke 2:1-14 

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled. This was the first enrollment, when Quirinius was governor of Syria. So all went to be enrolled, each to his own town. And Joseph too went up from Galilee from the town of Nazareth to Judea, to the city of David that is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger,  because there was no room for them in the inn.

          Last week I went to see a movie called “Collateral Beauty.” It’s about a New York marketing genius, named Howard, who loses his 6 year old daughter to a rare disease, and he plunges into a deep, dark depression. It’s what some of my male friends would disparagingly call a “chick flick.” In fact, one friend several years ago went to see the movie called “The Fault in Our Stars” (the ultimate chick flick) and the theater was packed with teary-eyed, sniffling women. In the middle of the movie, he couldn’t take any more, so he stood up, spread out his arms, and yelled, “Too much estrogen!” If I hadn’t been wearing my collar, I would have yelled the same thing in the Movie Lounge last week.

          Arguably the central moment of the movie is when Howard is comforted by his counselor and she encourages him to see that death is not everything; that, in spite of death’s horrific finality, it nevertheless leaves a certain “collateral beauty” behind, and she invited Howard to look for that beauty. She says these provocative words: “You’ve been given a gift: this profound connection to everything. Just look for it, I promise you it’s there: the collateral beauty.” We’re all more familiar with another similar term, called “collateral damage,” which is the opposite of this beauty. Collateral damage is the unintended negative consequences of a good decision or action. Christmas Children’s Mass is a good idea, but with all the crying kids, no one hears the homily (that’s the collateral damage). But collateral beauty, on the other hand, is the opposite: these are the positive consequences of a bad decision or action, like death. Collateral beauty is more hidden; it’s harder to see than collateral damage. You have to look intentionally for it. The question the movie invites the viewer to ask himself or herself – between blowing your nose and wiping your eyes – is: are you looking for the collateral damage or for the collateral beauty in life?

          In the gospel reading today, Joseph and Mary are compelled to contemplate the same question: will they see only the “collateral damage” or will they search for the “collateral beauty”? It was very easy to see the collateral damage all around them: a baby conceived before marriage, a journey of 70 miles from Nazareth to Bethlehem on a donkey, giving birth to your baby in a stable, Jesus’ first crib would be a manger filled with straw that animals eat, and the first to come worship the King of kings are poor, frightened shepherds. God’s infinitely good decision to send his Son to be born in Bethlehem was surrounded by collateral damage, and everyone could see that.

          But is that all Joseph and Mary saw? I don’t think so. Why? Well, they were people of deep faith and they had trained their eyes to do what Howard’s counselor suggested: “Just look for it, I promise you it is there: the collateral beauty.” Through the eyes of faith, they saw that ancient prophecies were being fulfilled that God himself would come to save his people (hence, a pre-marriage pregnancy so it was clearly God’s work); a Son of David would be King forever and therefore had to be born in Bethlehem, the King’s hometown; the wooden stable where Jesus was born foreshadowed the wooden cross where he would die; the straw that fed the animals was symbol of Jesus the Bread of Life that would feed all mankind; the shepherds were coming to worship the only Good Shepherd who would lead his people like sheep to green pastures. All this was not lost on Joseph and Mary. Why? Because they could see the “collateral beauty” all around them, and it was far, far greater than the collateral damage that everyone else saw.

          My friends, as you celebrate Christmas this year – 2016 years after Joseph and Mary did – what do you see around you? We are tempted to see only the collateral damage, the negative effects, of our personal and communal decisions and actions. Consider just two common and controversial examples. Maybe you’re not pleased with the outcome of the presidential election this year. And you feel like standing up in a crowd, spreading your arms, and yelling, “Too many electoral votes for Trump!” But then you’d miss the collateral beauty of the world’s most powerful nation undergoing a peaceful transfer of power, which in lesser nations sparks riots and revolutions. “Just look for it. I promise you it’s there: the collateral beauty.”

          Maybe you see the 60% divorce rate and the collateral damage of broken marriages and broken hearts, and many undergoing the anguish of an annulment. And that is truly tragic, to be sure. But you might miss the collateral beauty of hearts being healed by an annulment, too, and like a broken bone that’s stronger after a break, so hearts can love more like Jesus after the healing of an annulment. “Just look for it. I promise you it’s there: the collateral beauty.”

          Two weeks ago I received an unexpected email from a lady whose email address was “Blessed Cowgirl” (probably from Lavaca). She wrote: “Hello, I am not a member or even Catholic, but I have been to Christmas eve mass at your church years ago and loved it. My question is do you still do it, and is it open to the public, and also what are the times? Would love to come this year.” I replied: “Dear Cowgirl: Of course, you are always welcome to our church at midnight Mass or any other time. You don’t need a membership, or anything else for that matter. Each person who walks through the doors has his or her own special reasons and motives for being here, just as I do. All are welcome.” Now, some might worry about the “collateral damage” of having a non-Catholic at Mass – they don’t know when to stand or sit, they can’t receive Holy Communion, and worst of all: they may sit in my pew! But you could also look for the collateral beauty: the Blessed Cowgirl comes here because she loves Jesus just like we do, and the more the merrier around the manger. “Just look for it. I promise you it’s there: the collateral beauty.”

          This Christmas, I gave the church office staff a book by our former bishop, now Archbishop J. Peter Sartain. It is a collection of articles he has written over the years while serving in various dioceses. He concludes his first article of the book with this story: “A missionary to Native Americans was collecting money from church members for a new building. A frail, elderly woman who lived many miles from church walked the long distance to contribute her widow’s mite. The minister thanked her for her generosity but added: ‘You did not have to walk all this way. I would have gladly come to you.’ Surprised, she responded: ‘My journey was part of the gift’.” The minister saw the arduous journey only as collateral damage; the widow saw it as collateral beauty. What do you see?

          Praised be Jesus Christ!