Pope Francis says We see the "God of mercy" with the Announcement "on earth peace among men" - "Tonight our hearts are in Bethlehem, where Prince of Peace is once more rejected by the futile logic of war" FULL TEXT Homily
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At 7.30 pm this evening, in the Vatican Basilica, the Holy Father Francis presided over the Holy Night Mass on the Solemnity of the Birth of the Lord 2023. Children from India, Mexico, South Korea, the Ivory Coast, and Italy brought flowers to a figure of the baby Jesus in front of the altar.
FULL TEXT Vatican Mass PDF Booklet with Music; https://www.vatican.va/news_services/liturgy/libretti/2023/20231224-libretto-natale-notte.pdf
During the Eucharistic Celebration, after the proclamation of the Holy Gospel, the Pope delivered the homily full text below:
«The census of all the earth» (Lk 2,1). This is the context in which Jesus was born and on which the Gospel focuses. He could have mentioned it quickly, but instead he talks about it carefully. And with this he brings out a great contrast: while the emperor counts the inhabitants of the world, God enters almost secretly; while those in charge try to rise among the greats of history, the King of history chooses the path of smallness. None of the powerful notice him, only some shepherds, relegated to the margins of social life.
But the census says more. He didn't leave a good memory in the Bible. King David, giving in to the temptation of large numbers and an unhealthy claim to self-sufficiency, had committed a serious sin by taking a census of the people.
He wanted to know the strength and after about nine months he had the number of those who could handle the sword (see 2 Sam 24,1-9). The Lord was indignant and a misfortune struck the people. On this night, however, the "Son of David", Jesus, after nine months in Mary's womb, is born in Bethlehem, the city of David, and does not punish the census, but humbly allows himself to be counted. One among many. We do not see an angry God who punishes, but the merciful God who becomes incarnate, who enters the world weakly, preceded by the announcement: "on earth peace among men" (Lk 2:14). And our heart tonight is in Bethlehem, where the Prince of Peace is still rejected by the losing logic of war, with the roar of weapons which even today prevents him from finding a home in the world (see Luke 2:7).
In short, the census of the whole earth manifests on the one hand the all too human plot that runs through history: that of a world that seeks power and potency, fame and glory, where everything is measured by successes and results, with the figures and with the numbers. It's the obsession with performance. But at the same time, the way of Jesus stands out in the census, who comes to seek us through the incarnation. He is not the god of performance, but the God of incarnation. He does not subvert injustices from above with force, but from below with love; he does not burst in with limitless power, but descends into our limits; he does not avoid our fragilities, but he takes them on.
Brothers and sisters, tonight we can ask ourselves: what God do we believe in? In the God of incarnation or in that of performance? Yes, because there is the risk of experiencing Christmas with a pagan idea of God in your head, as if he were a powerful master in heaven; a god who marries power, worldly success and the idolatry of consumerism. The false image of a detached and touchy god, who behaves well with the good and gets angry with the bad, always returns; of a god made in our image, useful only to solve our problems and take away our evils. He, however, does not use a magic wand, he is not the commercial god of "everything at once"; he doesn't save us by pressing a button, but He comes close to change reality from within. Yet, how deeply rooted in us is the worldly idea of a distant and controlling God, rigid and powerful, who helps his people to prevail against others! Many times this image is rooted in us. But this is not the case: He was born for everyone, during the census of the whole earth.
Let us therefore look at the "living and true God" (1 Thess 1.9): at Him, who is beyond all human calculation and yet allows himself to be registered by our counts; to Him, who revolutionizes history by living in it; to Him, who respects us to the point of allowing us to reject him; to Him, who erases sin by taking responsibility for it, who does not take away pain but transforms it, who does not take away the problems from our lives, but gives our lives a hope greater than the problems. He wants to embrace our existences so much that, infinite, he becomes finite for us; big, becomes small; right, lives our injustices. Brothers and sisters, here is the wonder of Christmas: not a mixture of saccharine affections and worldly comforts, but the unprecedented tenderness of God who saves the world by becoming incarnate. We look at the Child, we look at his manger, we look at the nativity scene, which the angels call "the sign" (Lk 2:12): it is in fact the revealing sign of the face of God, who is compassion and mercy, almighty always and only in Love. He becomes close, he becomes close, tender and compassionate, this is God's way of being: closeness, compassion, tenderness.
Sisters, brothers, let us be amazed because "he became flesh" (see John 1:14). Flesh: a word that recalls our fragility and that the Gospel uses to tell us that God has entered deeply into our human condition. Why did he go to this length? – we ask ourselves –. Because he cares about everything about us, because he loves us to the point of considering us more precious than anything else. Brother, sister, by God who changed history during the census you are not a number, but you are a face; your name is written in his heart. But you, looking at your heart, at the performances that are not up to par, at the world that judges and does not forgive, perhaps you are living badly this Christmas, thinking that you are not doing well, harboring a sense of inadequacy and dissatisfaction for your fragilities, for the your falls and your problems and for your sins. But today, please, leave the initiative to Jesus, who tells you: "For you I became flesh, for you I became like you". Why do you remain in the prison of your sadness? Like the shepherds who have left their flocks, leave the enclosure of your melancholy and embrace the tenderness of the child God. And do it without masks, without armor, throw your worries into Him and He will take care of you (see Ps 55:23): He, who became flesh, does not await your successful performances, but your open heart and confidant. And in Him you will rediscover who you are: a beloved son of God, a daughter loved by God. Now you can believe it, because tonight the Lord came to light to illuminate your life and his eyes shine with love for you. We have difficulty believing in this, that God's eyes shine with love for us.
Yes, Christ does not look at numbers, but at faces. Who, however, looks to Him, among the many things and crazy races of an always busy and indifferent world? Who watches it? In Bethlehem, while many people, caught up in the thrill of the census, came and went, filling the lodgings and inns talking about this and that, some were close to Jesus: they were Mary and Joseph, the shepherds, then the wise men. Let's learn from them. They stand with their gaze fixed on Jesus, with their hearts turned towards Him. They do not speak, but they adore. Tonight, brothers and sisters, is the time for adoration: to adore.
Worship is the way to welcome the incarnation. Because it is in silence that Jesus, Word of the Father, becomes flesh in our lives. We too do as we did in Bethlehem, which means "house of bread": we stand before Him, the Bread of life. Let us rediscover adoration, because worshiping is not wasting time, but allowing God to inhabit our time. It is making the seed of the incarnation flourish in us, it is collaborating in the work of the Lord, who like leaven changes the world. To worship is to intercede, to repair, to allow God to straighten history. A great narrator of epic deeds wrote to his son: «I offer you the only great thing to love on earth: the Blessed Sacrament. There you will find charm, glory, honor, loyalty and the true path of all your loves on earth" (J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter 43, March 1941).
Brothers and sisters, tonight love changes history. Let us believe, O Lord, in the power of your love, so different from the power of the world. Lord, let us, like Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and the wise men, gather around you to adore you. Made by You more similar to You, we will be able to testify to the world the beauty of your face.
But the census says more. He didn't leave a good memory in the Bible. King David, giving in to the temptation of large numbers and an unhealthy claim to self-sufficiency, had committed a serious sin by taking a census of the people.
He wanted to know the strength and after about nine months he had the number of those who could handle the sword (see 2 Sam 24,1-9). The Lord was indignant and a misfortune struck the people. On this night, however, the "Son of David", Jesus, after nine months in Mary's womb, is born in Bethlehem, the city of David, and does not punish the census, but humbly allows himself to be counted. One among many. We do not see an angry God who punishes, but the merciful God who becomes incarnate, who enters the world weakly, preceded by the announcement: "on earth peace among men" (Lk 2:14). And our heart tonight is in Bethlehem, where the Prince of Peace is still rejected by the losing logic of war, with the roar of weapons which even today prevents him from finding a home in the world (see Luke 2:7).
In short, the census of the whole earth manifests on the one hand the all too human plot that runs through history: that of a world that seeks power and potency, fame and glory, where everything is measured by successes and results, with the figures and with the numbers. It's the obsession with performance. But at the same time, the way of Jesus stands out in the census, who comes to seek us through the incarnation. He is not the god of performance, but the God of incarnation. He does not subvert injustices from above with force, but from below with love; he does not burst in with limitless power, but descends into our limits; he does not avoid our fragilities, but he takes them on.
Brothers and sisters, tonight we can ask ourselves: what God do we believe in? In the God of incarnation or in that of performance? Yes, because there is the risk of experiencing Christmas with a pagan idea of God in your head, as if he were a powerful master in heaven; a god who marries power, worldly success and the idolatry of consumerism. The false image of a detached and touchy god, who behaves well with the good and gets angry with the bad, always returns; of a god made in our image, useful only to solve our problems and take away our evils. He, however, does not use a magic wand, he is not the commercial god of "everything at once"; he doesn't save us by pressing a button, but He comes close to change reality from within. Yet, how deeply rooted in us is the worldly idea of a distant and controlling God, rigid and powerful, who helps his people to prevail against others! Many times this image is rooted in us. But this is not the case: He was born for everyone, during the census of the whole earth.
Let us therefore look at the "living and true God" (1 Thess 1.9): at Him, who is beyond all human calculation and yet allows himself to be registered by our counts; to Him, who revolutionizes history by living in it; to Him, who respects us to the point of allowing us to reject him; to Him, who erases sin by taking responsibility for it, who does not take away pain but transforms it, who does not take away the problems from our lives, but gives our lives a hope greater than the problems. He wants to embrace our existences so much that, infinite, he becomes finite for us; big, becomes small; right, lives our injustices. Brothers and sisters, here is the wonder of Christmas: not a mixture of saccharine affections and worldly comforts, but the unprecedented tenderness of God who saves the world by becoming incarnate. We look at the Child, we look at his manger, we look at the nativity scene, which the angels call "the sign" (Lk 2:12): it is in fact the revealing sign of the face of God, who is compassion and mercy, almighty always and only in Love. He becomes close, he becomes close, tender and compassionate, this is God's way of being: closeness, compassion, tenderness.
Sisters, brothers, let us be amazed because "he became flesh" (see John 1:14). Flesh: a word that recalls our fragility and that the Gospel uses to tell us that God has entered deeply into our human condition. Why did he go to this length? – we ask ourselves –. Because he cares about everything about us, because he loves us to the point of considering us more precious than anything else. Brother, sister, by God who changed history during the census you are not a number, but you are a face; your name is written in his heart. But you, looking at your heart, at the performances that are not up to par, at the world that judges and does not forgive, perhaps you are living badly this Christmas, thinking that you are not doing well, harboring a sense of inadequacy and dissatisfaction for your fragilities, for the your falls and your problems and for your sins. But today, please, leave the initiative to Jesus, who tells you: "For you I became flesh, for you I became like you". Why do you remain in the prison of your sadness? Like the shepherds who have left their flocks, leave the enclosure of your melancholy and embrace the tenderness of the child God. And do it without masks, without armor, throw your worries into Him and He will take care of you (see Ps 55:23): He, who became flesh, does not await your successful performances, but your open heart and confidant. And in Him you will rediscover who you are: a beloved son of God, a daughter loved by God. Now you can believe it, because tonight the Lord came to light to illuminate your life and his eyes shine with love for you. We have difficulty believing in this, that God's eyes shine with love for us.
Yes, Christ does not look at numbers, but at faces. Who, however, looks to Him, among the many things and crazy races of an always busy and indifferent world? Who watches it? In Bethlehem, while many people, caught up in the thrill of the census, came and went, filling the lodgings and inns talking about this and that, some were close to Jesus: they were Mary and Joseph, the shepherds, then the wise men. Let's learn from them. They stand with their gaze fixed on Jesus, with their hearts turned towards Him. They do not speak, but they adore. Tonight, brothers and sisters, is the time for adoration: to adore.
Worship is the way to welcome the incarnation. Because it is in silence that Jesus, Word of the Father, becomes flesh in our lives. We too do as we did in Bethlehem, which means "house of bread": we stand before Him, the Bread of life. Let us rediscover adoration, because worshiping is not wasting time, but allowing God to inhabit our time. It is making the seed of the incarnation flourish in us, it is collaborating in the work of the Lord, who like leaven changes the world. To worship is to intercede, to repair, to allow God to straighten history. A great narrator of epic deeds wrote to his son: «I offer you the only great thing to love on earth: the Blessed Sacrament. There you will find charm, glory, honor, loyalty and the true path of all your loves on earth" (J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter 43, March 1941).
Brothers and sisters, tonight love changes history. Let us believe, O Lord, in the power of your love, so different from the power of the world. Lord, let us, like Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and the wise men, gather around you to adore you. Made by You more similar to You, we will be able to testify to the world the beauty of your face.
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