Tuesday, January 5, 2021

Touching God

Explaining the existence of everything at Christmas

12/25/2020

John 1:1-5, 9-14 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came to be through him, and without him nothing came to be. What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race; the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came to be through him, but the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, but his own people did not accept him. But to those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God, to those who believe in his name, who were born not by natural generation nor by human choice nor by a man’s decision but of God. And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us, and we saw his glory, the glory as of the Father’s only Son, full of grace and truth.

One of the best ways to catch the spirit of this sacred season is through the eyes of a child. Children just get Christmas. I recently received letters from the third graders of Immaculate Conception School. Little Santo said: “Thank you Father John for teaching me not to eat too much Cheetos – hahahahahaha!!! – and teaching me about Jesus.” Maybe someday Santo’s first thought will be “Jesus” and “Cheetos” will come in second. Reya said: “Dear Father John, I hope you have a great Christmas. I hope you stay safe, and get lots of presents, and give gifts to people.” Reya is learning that Christmas is a two-way street, both getting and giving gifts. Jaylah mentioned: “Thank you for teaching us about God. I love you so, so, so, so much!” I love you, so, so, so, so much, too, Jaylah.” Valentina shared: “I miss you, Father John.” Sebastian said: “Merry Christmas, Father John! I love you and I very, very miss you.” Apparently, Sebastian misses me more than Valentina. Sullivan stated simply: “I miss you Father John. Merry Christmas!”

Even though I see the children weekly, they still miss me, and I am convinced that what they miss most about their pastor is physical touch. Timothy Gallagher, an Emergency Room doctor, wrote recently: “The pandemic has forced me to realize the value of touch and presence in my roles as a doctor and a father.” He continued: “Before COVID, when I came home from work, my two-year old daughter would sometimes yell, ‘Papa!’ and run and tackle me. These days I return home and go directly to the shower without hugging my eager daughter or touching anything.” That is what our school students miss about their pastor: to be able to yell, “Papa John!” and run and tackle me.

The gospel of John explains that God, too, desires to touch us, and for us to touch him. That is why he became human. We read in that profound Prologue of John’s gospel: “And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us, and we saw his glory.” In his first letter, St. John will be even more specific about touch, adding: “What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we looked upon and touched with our hands.” In other words, with all the innocence and intimacy of children when they run into the arms of their fathers yelling, “Papa,” God wants to touch us and for us to touch him. At Christmas God reached across the infinite distance between heaven and earth and was born as a baby in Bethlehem precisely so he could touch us. When Sebastian said, “I very, very miss you, Father John” he took the words right of God’s mouth.

The COVID pandemic has prevented us from feeling the tenderness of touch for many months. But that may not be entirely such a bad thing. Why not? Well, sometimes we learn more through loss: “absence makes the heart grow fonder." Hold your breath for one minute and you really appreciate oxygen; fast from eating for a day and you’ll really feel fond of food (especially Cheetos); run a marathon without drinking water and your body will be begging for hydration. So, too, during this pandemic: the loss of touch has taught us a powerful lesson. After nine months without it, everyone on earth desires to touch someone.

I am convinced that our nagging need for touch takes us right to the crux of Christmas. Why? Because we are bodily beings, not pure spirits, and touching others makes us feel human and alive. The ER doctor, Timothy Gallagher, explained the biology of touch, saying: “As a doctor I know that touch sensors in the skin send signals to the brain, which releases dopamine and serotonin to reduce anxiety, and oxytocin to foster social bonding.” Put simply, touch tells us we are not alone in the universe. God became man at Christmas to help us overcome our ache of aloneness.

My friends, we live in a universe governed by a good God, and Christmas is proof positive. Nothing happens by accident or chance: not the alignment of Jupiter and Saturn to create the Christmas Star, not the COVID crisis to help us long for a tender touch, not the sound of the person sleeping next to you during this homily (he better have a good reason for sleeping!). Everything happens for a purpose, even a pandemic, and that purpose is to prepare us for the coming of Christ. By the way, that is the reason you arrived at Mass today, even if you didn't know it. Why are you here? So God can touch you and you can touch God. At Christmas the whole world is drawn to Christ like moths to a flame. This world was created for Christ, and at Christmas the existence of everything is explained.

Have you ever noticed how every Mass is like a little Christmas? Even the word “Christmas” is a compound of words “Christ” and “Mass.” Think about it: at each Mass throughout the year the “the Word makes his dwelling among us,” this time not as a beautiful Baby but as broken Bread. As Jesus comes to us in Communion, what do we do? We make a manger with our hands to receive the newborn King of kings just like at that first Christmas, so we can touch God and God can touch us.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

 

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