Homily for Christmas Day

Christmas Day, 2003

—Fr. Timothy W. Castor

In the old Christmas Carol, "O come, all ye faithful," we sing these beautiful words:

Yea, Lord, we greet thee, born this happy morning;
Jesus, to thee be glory given;
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing.
O come, let us adore him,
O come, let us adore him,
O come, let us adore him, Christ the Lord.

Truly, the Lord is born this happy morning—born of the Virgin Mary, born to be our Savior. We greet him as the King of kings and Lord of lords; we greet him as the Prince of Peace. When the Angels sang to the shepherds announcing his birth, they said, "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests." The newborn King has come to bring peace … and yet, where is that peace? Within two years of this happy morning, one of history’s most horrendous acts of violence was perpetrated as a direct result of our Lord’s birth: out of fear and jealousy, the insane King Herod ordered the slaughter of the innocents in Bethlehem. And since that day, it seems that nothing but conflict, discord, and division have followed in the wake of the Christian message—division within families, discord among peoples, conflict between nations.

The Prince of Peace himself once said, "Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s enemies will be those of his household." It is a strange paradox, because this same Jesus, just hours before he was betrayed to death, said his disciples, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you." At Mass, the priest repeats this line just before we exchange the sign of peace. A clue to unraveling this paradox is found in the rest of the verse—the part which is not quoted in the Mass: "Not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid."

So the Lord does bring peace—but it is a peace far different from that which the world understands. And how does the world define peace? The world thinks of peace as little more than what happens when people put aside their differences and agree to get along. It’s what we’ve come to call "tolerance." Unfortunately, tolerance can never bring about lasting peace because it has no foundation—it is a house built on sand. There may be tranquility for a time when we agree to tolerate one another’s differences of faith and morality, but the differences remain. Slowly these differences boil under the surface until the pressure can be contained no longer, and ultimately they will always burst forth in conflict.

Tolerance might also be called "peace at any price" because, not only do we attempt to ignore our differences (as if these differences really made no difference), but we also try to put aside our convictions—the principles by which we live. If this is peace, then it is a dishonest and cowardly peace.

But Christ came to bring peace! What is this peace? Monsignor Robert Hugh Benson lived in the early part of the 20^th century. He was the son of the Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury, but he converted to the Catholic Church and became a priest. He wrote many books of theology, apologetics, and fiction. Expanding upon the words of Jesus which we quoted above, Benson had this to say: "Make no mistake. I am not come to bring peace at any price; there are worse things than war and bloodshed. I am come to bring not peace but a sword. I am come to divide families not to unite them; to rend kingdoms, not to knit them up; I am come to set mother against daughter and daughter against mother; I am come not to establish universal toleration, but universal Truth."

This is the key to understanding the peace of Christ—this is the answer to our paradox. Our Lord Jesus Christ, who said to his disciples, "peace I leave with you," also said, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father but by me." You see, true peace—the peace which our newborn savior came to give us—can only be achieved when we submit our minds and our hearts to him who is the Truth and order our lives according to this Truth.

"I am come not to establish universal toleration, but universal Truth." But in saying this, I don’t mean to suggest that tolerance is to be entirely rejected. Certainly, in civil society, we should practice tolerance—we should ignore trivial differences like skin color, ethnic background or social standing. And I definitely don’t mean to suggest that we should take up swords and firearms to battle falsehood. I’m not calling for a revival of the Crusades. Rather, whenever we embrace the truth, live by the truth, and stand for the truth, there will be conflict. The forces of ignorance and error will fight to suppress the message of God’s love; the powers of darkness will always try to extinguish the light of Christ, and a spiritual battle will ensue. Sometimes, the evil powers seem to win. For a moment, it seemed that the Devil had won the battle when Christ died upon the Cross. Perhaps he won the battle, but three days later he lost the war.

And this is the joyous message of Christmas morning! Christ has come! He has come to establish universal truth—the saving truth of the Gospel—and truth will prevail. As long as our minds are conformed to the truth, then we can trust in our Savior’s comforting words, "Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid." A mind and heart in tune with God’s truth will be at peace with God—will know the peace that only Christ can give.

William Alexander Percy (who was an elder cousin to another great Catholic convert and novelist, Walker Percy) wrote the words to a remarkable hymn in 1924. It appears in only one hymnal that I know of, and I’ve never heard it sung publicly, so unusual are its lyrics. And yet, it has long been one of my very favorite hymns. Don’t worry, I won’t sing it for you, but I would like to read you the text. It’s about the disciples before and after their encounter with Christ. Listen carefully.

They cast their nets in Galilee Just off the hills of brown;
Such happy, simple fisherfolk, Before the Lord came down.

Contented, peaceful fishermen, Before they ever knew
The peace of God that filled their hearts Brimful, and broke them too.

Young John who trimmed the flapping sail, Homeless, in Patmos died.
Peter, who hauled the teeming net, Head-down was crucified.

The peace of God, it is no peace, But strife closed in the sod.
Yet, brothers, pray for but one thing—The marvelous peace of God.

May Almighty God confirm your hearts in Truth, and grant you his peace, this Christmas and throughout the new year. In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.