Real Holy Families

What a strange Advent and Christmas. The slower, quieter pace was nice, but I also missed a lot – people and traditions and church celebrations – that I once took for granted. I’m feeling the absence deeply this year, although this season, with the memories and expectations that come with it, often has an element of longing. I miss family members no longer here, like my grandma who was such a gentle presence, my aunt and uncle who hosted wonderful parties, and my uncle who, year after year, led us in carols on Christmas Eve. I miss the days when my nieces were little even as I enjoy the people they’re becoming. I still feel the delight I had as a child, but I also feel time marching on, as it does. I hold both sadness and joy at this time of year, a persistent incompleteness that usually whispers in the periphery but which spoke more clearly this year. Do you know what I mean?

As I reflect on my own family, whom I appreciate in a whole new way this year, I’ve also thought about the family we call holy, Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. In some ways, I take them for granted too. I let them rest in my mind like legends, idyllic figures in stained glass whose lives were not messy like mine is. And yet, we believe they were fully human, and there’s nothing perfect about a fully human family.

In fact, if we conflate the birth narratives from Luke and Matthew (which one should not do, but I’m going to anyway), it seems like the life of the holy family was an action-packed adventure fraught with one calamity, miracle, or weird circumstance after another: a journey late in an unexpected pregnancy, giving birth in a random place, strange visitors like angels, shepherds, and magi instead of family, and having to flee to another country to find safety. Talk about insecurity. Maybe they were filled with anxiety. Maybe there was a touch of sadness too, because things were not unfolding as they had hoped and planned. Maybe they were even annoyed or angry. Or lonely, being separated from their loved ones. Maybe they resisted what was happening. Maybe they trusted. Who knows? But it could not have been how they wished their life would be as newlyweds having their first child.

And yet, they are the holy family, not because their life was idyllic but because, despite their difficulties, they kept going, loving God and each other. One could even say their life was “unprecedented.” Except that it wasn’t. As Christmas goes, it was the first, but families have been living with uncertainty, disappointment, and loss since the dawn of time. The suffering of families today does feel more widespread and intense than usual as we cope with illness and death, job loss, and separation. What’s not new is that none of our families is ideal, and each of them is holy. Our broken and imperfect families, our grieving families, as well as our new families who had babies or got married over this time, are holy in our striving, not in our perfection. It’s God who makes us holy.

The reality is that each new day is unprecedented, and we are constantly living in uncertainty. This year I’m missing family and community traditions of the past, although as I consider it, there was no “always” for those either. The Christmases of my childhood changed over time as my sister and I grew up and she got married and I entered community. Each year as we change, our Christmas celebrations change too. The changes are usually more subtle than this year, to be sure, but no Christmas is ever the same as another. Sometimes we resist, sometimes we lean in, but either way, life is always changing.

God is not in the ideal; God is in the real. May we learn to recognize God’s presence in all our experiences, and may we grow in holiness. May we trust God’s love, and may we do what we can to love each other too.

 For Reflection:

• Who are the holy families of our day? What makes them holy?

• How do you cope with times of uncertainty in your life? How do you pray during these times?

• How has God been present to you this Christmas? What do signs of God’s love look like? What do they feel like?

By Sister Leslie Keener, CDP

Sister Leslie Keener, CDP is the director of God Space, a community-building spirituality ministry in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. She’s a Sister of Divine Providence with a Masters in Ministry and a Certificate in Spiritual Direction and Retreats from Creighton University. She directs retreats, meets with people for spiritual direction, and serves as the vocation director for her community. She also serves on the Coordinating Council of Spiritual Directors International. She enjoys music, dancing, and meaningful conversations.