Column by Jonathan Nagy
Imagine the euphoric feeling of walking into your church on Christmas Eve. The building is beautifully decorated, draped top to bottom in garland and ribbons. The brightly lit Christmas trees soar to ceiling along the sides of the altar, which is surrounded by bright red and white poinsettias and glowing candles. The manger scene, arranged with statutes of the Holy Family, shepherds, angels, and animals, invokes feelings of great joy, wonder, and awe. The melodic carols sung by the angelic choir echo off the walls and into your ears. With a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your heart, you bless yourself, walk up the aisle to your favorite pew, genuflect, turn to sit down……….and someone is sitting in YOUR seat.
The thoughts run through your mind. “Who is this person!? What are they doing in my pew!? I am here every Sunday, and everyone knows that this is where I sit. I started sitting here 20 years and 4 pastors ago, and I’m not about to change. Where are the ushers? Maybe they can escort them to the front pew where there is ALWAYS plenty of space. Does the pastor know this person? I bet they only come once a year just to say they did and don’t contribute anything to this parish. They aren’t even dressed nicely. If I stare at them long and awkwardly enough, maybe they will get the hint. They have totally ruined my Christmas!!”
Now, let’s imagine the same scenario, but take it back 2000 years.
It is a quiet, still night in your little hometown of Bethlehem. The sky is clear, and the stars shine brightly up above. The air is crisp but has a strange sense of peace and calm. It is time for you to feed your animals. You have been fortunate enough to have a stable in a small cave behind your house which is replete with many livestock, including oxen, chickens, and cows. You have worked hard to build your home and stable and are reflecting on how grateful you are as you walk with your lantern in the darkness of the night, listening as the winds wisps through the trees and the birds sing their quiet songs. As you enter the stable, what do you see but a man and a pregnant woman sitting in YOUR property!
The thoughts run through your mind. “Who are these people?! What are they doing in my stable?! I live here, and have lived here for 20 years, and everyone in this town knows this is my property. Where are the local authorities? Maybe they can escort them out to the fields with the dirty shepherds. Does the town mayor know them? I bet he wouldn’t be happy to see vagabonds messing up our perfect little town. They probably pay no taxes. Their clothes are ratty and they have next to nothing with them. If I stare at them long and awkwardly enough, maybe they will get the hint and leave. They have totally ruined my perfect night!!”
Far-fetched? Maybe. But again, maybe not. The scenarios, while very different, invoke the same reflective question: How can you make room for the Christ Child when you won’t even make room for your neighbor?
In several national surveys about Catholicism in America, respondents were asked why they do not attend Mass. On of the top three answers in each of the surveys analyzed was, “I do not feel welcome.” Everyone at one point in their life has experience the feeling of being unwelcomed. It is a feeling no one wants to experience a second time. Yet, here we are, talking about not feeling welcome in a house of God. It isn’t God that is unwelcoming, it is the very people that claim to be holy and devout. How sad that many feel that those around them reject their very presence in the presence of the Savior!
Often, when a student arrives late to my school, instead of initially greeting them with questions such as, “Why are you late?”, “Did you forget what time school started?”, or “Why are you making this a habit?”, I say to the student, “I’m glad you are here.” We can always get to the “whys” and “hows” later, but it is important for me to recognize that they are there and that they made it there safely. In the moment, I do my best not to judge the student before knowing the situation. We don’t know what goes on in each other’s lives, and extenuating circumstances can be beyond anyone’s control. The important thing to do is to make sure they know that they have arrived in a welcoming environment.
There is a poem written by Joshua T. Dickerson that has meant so much to me in my educational career which illustrates this point. The poem is entitled, “Cause I Ain’t Got A Pencil.”
I woke myself up
Because we ain’t got an alarm clock
Dug in the dirty clothes basket,
Cause ain’t nobody washed my uniform
Brushed my hair and teeth in the dark,
Cause the lights ain’t on
Even got my baby sister ready,
Cause my mama wasn’t home.
Got us both to school on time,
To eat us a good breakfast.
Then when I got to class the teacher fussed
Cause I ain’t got no pencil.
I feel for the child described in the poem and try to look at each one of my students through that lens. If we knew the full story, perhaps we would have more empathy, but, why do we need to know the full story to show empathy? All that child needs is a little understanding and kindness to help turn their day around. Judgment is not our duty; it belongs to God. Our duty is to welcome them with open arms. The circumstances around Jesus’ birth were far from perfect. Imagine if the people of Bethlehem had been even a tiny bit accommodating to the Holy Family!
That person sitting in your pew on Christmas Eve deserves the same type of kindness and understanding. They may have been away from the Church for years or even were brought up without any religious background. Maybe they are visitors or travelers. Perhaps they may have been stressing for weeks about whether or not to attend Mass. They drew up the courage to walk through those doors and found a seat that made them feel the least awkward and conspicuous. In that moment, what they need the most is the love of God shining brightly through us and not a condemning attitude. They just want to feel welcome.
I am sure that Mary and Joseph did not feel welcome upon their arrival in Bethlehem. Rejected at every door they entered, they found a humble location for the entry of the King of Kings to earth. Being the best parents-to-be that they could, they made the best of the situation in which they found themselves to bring the Son of God into the world. With the little that they had, in the most unappealing conditions, they welcomed Jesus with deep, caring, unshakeable love. They welcomed in the shepherds, the most unwelcomed and socially unaccepted individuals of Bethlehem, to see their child. Having a stranger sit in your favorite pew seems pretty minimal now, doesn’t it?
I am encouraging everyone this Christmas to be welcoming to those around us, especially at Mass. Yes, you will see a lot of new and different faces. They belong in the church, just as much as you do. Now is the time to evangelize! A simple, kind greeting of “I am glad you are here,” may change everything for those individuals. Your encouragement may be what they need to continue coming. Their faith in Jesus Christ may be restored by their faith in humanity in the house of God.
Everyone wants to welcome the baby Jesus into their hearts, but is everyone ready to welcome everything that comes with Him? It is easy to accept the manger, but are you willing to accept the Cross as well? Being an intentional Christian means to accept the entire package. Jesus came to take away our sins, in the past, present, and future. He was born as a human and died as a human for our sake. His everlasting love for us should not be a one-way street. His teachings instructed each of us to care for others and bring them closer to Him. There is no better time to do so than during Christmas.
The final verse of “O Little Town Of Bethlehem” reads,
O holy Child of Bethlehem,
descend to us, we pray;
cast out our sin and enter in;
be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels,
the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
our Lord Emmanuel!
I pray that this is part of everyone’s prayer this Christmas. Let Jesus enter in and be born in us. Allowing Him to enter our hearts, minds, and souls will allow us to welcome in the stranger and assure them that the love of Jesus is alive in us! Remember, there is always room for one more in Jesus’ house!
I want to take the opportunity to wish everyone a blessed, joyous, and Merry Christmas! May you and your family experience the graces of God now and in the new year to come!
Jonathan Nagy, M.Ed., is the Principal of Bishop Carroll Catholic High School in Ebensburg and the Music Director at the Basilica of Saint Michael the Archangel in Loretto.
