R emember the Gift of Christmas

I’d like to begin today’s reflection with a story… I read somewhere that both the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea are formed by the same water supply. It flows down, cool and clear from Mount Hermon. The Sea of Galilee is gorgeous and pristine. I have eaten fish, part of the abundant life in the Sea of Galilee. This Sea has an outlet: its waters flow out and fertilize the Jordan plain.

 

The Dead Sea, on the other hand, with the same source of refreshing water, is desolate, for the Dead Sea has no outlet. It only gets to keep. I once went swimming in the Dead Sea. There was such a high content of salt, that you can’t sink! But then, someone kicked the water, which got into my eye, and I couldn’t wipe it out because I was covered in salt water. And it stung! But the point is that the Dead Sea has no outlet. It cannot give; it only gets to keep.

 

The article I was reading suggested that selfish and unselfish people can act in much the same way. Unselfish people can give and luxuriate in their generosity, while selfish people only get to keep—and can stagnate as a result.

 

At this time of gift giving, I noted an interesting cartoon in the newspaper earlier this week. It’s called the “Lockhorns” and it’s about a husband and wife who are constantly fighting, and not even counseling seems to help. In this particular scene, the wife is bringing a shirt to the cashier. He asks her, “Would you like something nicer, or is this for your husband?”

 

How different is one of my favorite stories, O Henry’s “Gift of the Magi”. The main theme of this story by O. Henry is that   giving is the greatest gift of all . It’s about a married couple very much in love who want to give a special gift to each other. Della gives up her most cherished possession, her beautiful hair, to get a gift for her husband, Jim. She buys him a fob for his favorite possession--a pocket watch. But Jim sells his pocket watch to buy beautiful combs for Della to adorn her hair!

 

The beauty, I think, is the kind of tragic impracticality of the outcome of the gift-giving. Each gives up a most favored possession that, in both cases is lost. And what they are left with is a total gift of self to each other.

 

Our gift-giving at Christmas can be, at its best, an expression of the love, esteem and respect that we have for another person. But what our Scripture readings throughout this Advent and Christmas Season invite us to reflect on the incredible gift giving that is flying all over the place in the Christmas story.

 

God gives us the greatest treasure of God’s heart: God’s only Son. During this Year of the Eucharist, we are reminded that the gift of the Son continues giving, so that we might have communion—union of mind and heart with our God and with each other. Mary gives the gift of agreeing to God’s very unorthodox plan by saying yes to a miraculous pregnancy. Joseph gives Mary and Jesus the gift of not divorcing Mary and becoming the faithful guardian, the totally committed husband and foster-father. Mary gives her cousin Elizabeth the gift of visiting to see if she can help the older woman who was thought to be barren, and to share the good news of what God was doing in their lives. And the Bible makes clear that the birth of Jesus at Christmas is meant for all people: from the wealthy magi to the poorest shepherds, from the chosen people of Israel, out to all the peoples and nations of the world.

 

So, I would suggest two things for you to consider this week. First, let us not forget the original, spiritual basis of gift-giving at this time of year; let us, as the saying goes, “Keep Christ in Christmas”—these spiritual roots can be so easily lost, and Christmas can be turned into a madhouse of commercialism and excess. And second, let us remember how to give gifts—not as a begrudging duty, but as an act of love, an act of gratitude, in honor of the Supreme Gift that is at the heart of our celebration of Christmas.

You might also like

Father's Homilies

By Charlene Currie December 4, 2025
How Far Do You Want to Go?
By Charlene Currie November 28, 2025
Prairie Chickens and Eagles Homily for the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe November 23, 2025 An American Indian tells about a brave who found an eagle’s egg and put it into the nest of a prairie chicken. The eaglet hatched with the brood of chicks and grew up with them. All its life the changeling eagle, thinking it was a prairie chicken, did what the other prairie chickens did. It scratched in the dirt for seeds and insects to eat. It clucked and cackled. And it flew in a brief thrashing of wings and flurry of feathers no more than a few feet off the ground. After all, that’s how prairie chickens were supposed to fly. Years passed, and the changeling grew very old. One day it saw a magnificent bird soaring far above in the cloudless sky. Hanging with graceful majesty on the powerful wind currents, it soared with scarcely a beat of its strong golden wings. “What a beautiful bird!” said the changeling eagle to its neighbor. “What is it?” “That’s an eagle—the chief of the birds,” the neighbor clucked. “But don’t give it a second thought. You could never be like him.” So, the changeling eagle never gave it another thought. And it died thinking it was a prairie chicken. Today, we are celebrating the fact that Jesus Christ is the King of all God’s creation. And yet, it is strange that the gospel passage chosen for this feast is the scene of Jesus’ crucifixion. Notice how weak he is. Consider how he is laughed at and made fun of. “He saved others, let him save himself if he is the chosen one, the Christ of God….If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself.” So, the problem is one of expectations. The bystanders were looking for an eagle, and all they saw before them was a prairie chicken! And yet, at the end of the gospel, this prairie chicken seems to have some power that prairie chickens don’t normally have. When Jesus is asked by the thief being crucified with him, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom,” Jesus replies, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” Hardly a promise that could be made by a prairie chicken! What’s going on here? I’d like to refer us to a passage we find in the writings of St. Paul, a section of his letter to the Philippians that is the second reading on Palm Sunday, when we reflect on the crucifixion of Jesus. Here it is: “Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” Jesus taught the way of humility and service. He came to raise others up, especially those who were bowed down by poverty or prejudice. He taught that there was no greater love than to lay down one’s life for the love of others. Greatness is found not in building oneself up at the expense of others, but in building up others, especially those who need it the most. So, Jesus emptied himself, to the point of looking like a prairie chicken, and in doing so he showed us the way to the eternal kingdom by means of humble service, that we might become who we truly are, eagles destined to soar beyond the clouds.
By Charlene Currie November 28, 2025
Too Stubborn to Quit. Homily for the Thirty-Third Sunday in Ordinary Time November 16, 2025 The California coast was blanketed in fog July 4, 1952. Twenty-one miles to the west, on Catalina Island, Florence Chadwick, a 34-year-old-long-distance-swimmer, waded in to the water and began swimming toward the California coast. She had already conquered the English Channel, swimming in both directions. Now she was determined to be the first woman to swim the Catalina Channel. As the hours ticked off, Chadwick fought bone-chilling cold, dense fog, and sharks. Several times, sharks had to be driven off by rifles. Fatigue never set in, but the icy water numbed her to the point of exhaustion. Straining to make out the shore through her swimmer’s goggles, she could see only a dense fog. She knew she could not go any farther. Although not a quitter, Chadwick shouted to her trainer and her mother in the boat and asked to be taken out of the water. They urged her not to give up, but when she looked toward the California coast, all she could see was thick fog. So after fifteen hours and fifty-five minutes of fighting the elements, she was hauled from the channel into the boat. Frozen to the bone and her spirit defeated, Chadwick was devastated when she discovered she was only a half-mile from the coast! She felt the shock of failure…. Two months later, Chadwick swam that same channel, and again fog clouded her vision, but this time she swam with her faith intact—that somewhere behind that fog was land. This time she succeeded. Not only was she the first woman to swim the Catalina Channel, but she beat the men’s record by two hours. A line from this story that struck me was: “this time she swam with her faith intact.” Florence Chadwick was able to persevere to her goal because she believed she could do it. In today’s gospel passage, Jesus speaks about the challenges and threats that will be faced by the first disciples when they go out into the world and start proclaiming the message. He doesn’t mince words or paint a rosy picture. Tough times of suffering will come. But then he adds, “By your perseverance you will secure your lives.” In reflecting on this teaching, I was reminded of another Bible story. The disciples are in a boat crossing a lake. Jesus had stayed behind to spend some time in prayer. Then, late at night, he comes toward them, walking on the water. The disciples are frightened, thinking they’re seeing a ghost. Jesus tries to reassure them, when Simon Peter yells, “Lord, if it is really you, command that I walk on the water toward you.” Jesus invites him to do so, and Peter steps out of the boat and actually walks on the water toward Jesus. But then, he looks down and notices the threatening situation he is in. And he begins to sink. Jesus has to fish him out of the water and get him back into the boat (Cf. Matthew 14:22-33). What makes the difference? As long as Peter keeps his eyes on Jesus, he can do the seemingly impossible. When he focuses on the threat, he sinks. We find something similar in the writings of St. Paul. In his first letter to the Corinthians, he writes, “You know that while all the runners in the stadium take part in the race, the award goes to one man. In that case, run so as to win! Athletes deny themselves all sorts of things. They do this to win a crown of leaves that withers, but we a crown that is imperishable. I do not run like a man who loses sight of the finish line…” (1 Cor 9:24-26). So, when we have to face difficulties, when we live in hard times, when we feel left out or let down, how are we supposed to keep going? Florence Chadwick failed when she couldn’t see the finish line. When she found faith withing herself again, she was able to go back and reach her goal. Peter was even able to walk on water, but only as long as he kept his eyes on Jesus. And Paul writes that he has been able to keep going, even while facing all sorts of hardships, because he has never lost sight of the goal. When facing challenges, a stubborn faith is required; perseverance is needed. It’s very easy to give up, to call it quits, to feel that there’s no way to face all the problems that pile up. We don’t have to face life’s challenges alone. Jesus is with us. And he asks us to be there for each other. He asks us to persevere, to have faith, to be too stubborn to quit.