In these final days before Christmas Day, Dorothy Day’s words from December 1945 offer a fitting reminder:
It is no use to say that we are born two thousand years too late to give room to Christ. Nor will those who live at the end of the world have been born too late. Christ is always with us, always asking for room in our hearts. But now it is with the voice of our contemporaries that he speaks, with the eyes of store clerks, factory workers and children that he gazes; with the hands of office workers, slum dwellers and suburban housewives that he gives. It is with the feet of soldiers and tramps that he walks, and with the heart of anyone in need that he longs for shelter. And giving shelter or food to anyone who asks for it, or needs it, is giving it to Christ.
The creche on the mantle is lovely, but it is not about beautiful creches.
The music at our Christmas liturgies are inspiring, but it is not about the music.
The lights on the decorated tree sparkle, but it is not about the tree and the lights.
It is about seeing Christ’s face and hearing Christ’s voice in all those we encounter. It is about welcoming Christ in whatever form he appears to us.