Well friends, it’s been another strange Advent and Christmas, at least for me. I’ve been able to be with more people than last year, but things are not back to normal. The pandemic continues and there’s still that pervasive fear hanging over us. Since we’re having a second Pandemic Christmas, I guess we can stop saying it’s unprecedented. Unfortunately for us, it’s all too precedented. This season, with the memories and expectations that come with it, often has an element of longing for me. I miss family members who are no longer here, although I feel their presence with me over these holy days, these holidays. I miss the days when my nieces were little, even as I love and enjoy the people they’re becoming. Time marches on.

This Sunday we celebrate the family who belongs to all of us, the one we recognize as holy – Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. Speaking of growing up fast, this year, with the cycle of readings and the way the days fall, we celebrate the birth of Jesus one day and the next, this Sunday, Jesus is already twelve years old and lost in the temple. My, my that boy grows fast! But don’t worry – next week he’ll be little again as he’s visited by the Magi. What a strange scrambled account of the life of the child Jesus we get this year.

And maybe that’s fitting! My life feels little scrambled too – not in a bad way – just all over the place. That’s a little bit about the pandemic, but it’s also just the nature of this sacred season. There’s a little time for prayer and beautiful liturgy, and then there’s so much to do, the chaos of opening presents, the excitement of little ones who believe in Santa, the gift reconnecting with loved ones, virtually or in person. And it all happens at once. There’s a lot of joyful hope but also a lot of big expectation. I tend to expect a lot of happiness and even idyllic scenes, although I’m not sure why. I have kind of an aversion to Hallmark Christmas movies, and I know full well the events at the heart of our celebrations were not a bit idyllic.

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, and weird circumstance after another: a journey late in an unexpected pregnancy, giving birth in a random place, strange visitors like angels and shepherds, and having to flee to another country to find safety. And here we are with Jesus in the Temple. He seems a little mouthier than I think the Son of God should be. And Mary has a tone when she finds him, the same tone any mother might use with a kid who gives his parents the slip like that. I imagine there’s an extra layer of pressure on these parents too – keeping track of the long-awaited Messiah is kind of a big deal. Maybe they’re filled with anxiety. Maybe, through all of these events, there’s a touch of sadness too, because things are not unfolding as they hoped. Maybe they’re even annoyed or angry. Maybe they resist what’s happening. Maybe they trust. Who knows? But it’s likely not how they envisioned their life.

And yet, they’re 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 feels more widespread and intense than usual as we cope with illness and death, job loss, and financial insecurity. What’s not new is that none of our families is perfect, and each of them is holy. Our broken and imperfect families, our grieving families, our struggling families 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 some of my 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. Each year as we change, our Christmas celebrations change too. The changes are usually more subtle than these pandemic years, 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, like Jesus, may we grow in wisdom and age and favor before God. May we trust God’s love, and may we do what we can to love each other too.

 For Reflection:

• What – or whom – have you been missing this Christmas? What have you come to appreciate more than ever before?

• 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.

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