Lessons Learned from Contemplating the Nativity Scene

By Archbishop Salvatore Joseph Cordileone

There are many fond memories and cherished, time-honored traditions, rituals and symbols that mark this time of the year — the symbols of the Christmas tree, the ritual of decorating it, the Christmas wreath, stockings by the fireplace, and the wrapping of presents placed under the tree. These traditions make this a very enchanted time of the year. But most of all, the Christmas crèche remains the most cherished and distinctive symbol of Christmas.

Humanity: Presence in Time

The story is well known. St. Francis was inspired, it is believed, by his pilgrimage to the Holy Land to depict the scene of Christ’s birth in a literal way. As his first biographer, Brother Thomas of Celano, explains it, St. Francis desired to “represent the birth of that child in Bethlehem in such a way that with our bodily eyes we may see what he suffered for lack of the necessities of a newborn babe and how he lay in [a] manger between the ox and ass.” And people from all around flocked to contemplate the scene during Christmas Mass. (https://www.ncregister.com/cna/st-francis-and-the-story-of-the-first-nativity-scene) Francis wanted to emphasize the real human experience of that first Christmas night — that God truly became a human being, born as a baby from a virgin mother. The God beyond us and above us is also among us in the most humble way possible. This is a good lesson for us, especially at this time of the year when it is so easy to romanticize that night when Christ was born. It is good that we put much effort, artistry and love into decorating our nativity scenes, but the beauty of the art should inspire us to contemplate the historical moment in its full reality and not distract us from it.

Francis wanted to make real to us today the humiliation of the Son of God who became a child born in a stable in the midst of squalor and animals and poor peasants, and yet was the model of spiritual perfection. He who is the ruler of all chose to be subject to His creation, to the point of offering His life on the cross to free us from sin (cf. Augustine Thompson, O.P., “Francis of Assisi: A New Biography” Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 2012, p. 109).

Divinity: Enduring Presence

Our tendency in our own time is to see the Son of God as no more than a friend, a companion, someone who walks with us. While this is true, perhaps some may see Him as too much of an equal. We do well, though, to acknowledge that His dominion over us is not oppressive but liberating. This is the case only when we order our lives according to His way.

As God, He came to liberate us from sin by His passion and death on the cross, which so deeply moved Francis in contemplating our Lord’s birth. The signs of our Lord’s passion are there at His birth: Mary “wrapped Him in swaddling clothes and laid Him in a manger.” These swaddling clothes foretell the burial cloths in which Jesus’ body would be wrapped when placed in the tomb after His crucifixion. The wood of the manger anticipates the wood of the cross, the tree on which He would undo the damage done at the tree in the garden when the serpent deceived our first parents and we lost friendship with God. This is the original religious meaning of the Christmas tree: the tree of the cross, which conquers the tree in the garden, restoring our friendship with God and giving us the gift of eternal life.

Present at this birth are also the signs of God’s enduring presence with us. What is a manger but a trough, a container from which animals are fed? He came to feed us with His very Body and Blood, being born in Bethlehem, a small insignificant town whose name means “house of bread.” He continues to empty Himself by coming down from heaven to be present with us sacramentally under the appearances of bread and wine, the gift of His Body and Blood in the most Holy Eucharist. He thus continues the mystery of His Incarnation by taking on flesh at each Mass, feeding us with His Body and Blood, which is another mystery that moved St. Francis so deeply in contemplating our Lord’s humility.

Could it be that the casual attitude toward the Blessed Sacrament that has become so pervasive in the Church nowadays is a consequence of an attitude that would demote the Son of God from His divinity to being simply a good friend equal to us in our humanity? Failing to recognize His real presence in the Holy Eucharist in turn leads to failing to recognize His divinity under the appearance of His human body in the Incarnation, and so to order our lives accordingly.

Right Ordering of the Universe

While this season of the year is an enchanted time filled with fond memories, we know there is much suffering in our midst and often even in our own families. On the global scale, we are witnessing wars and all kinds of atrocities, most especially in that very land in which our Lord was born. We grieve that the land that we call “holy” has been scarred by wars and atrocities for millennia. 

God will not allow His people to be oppressed indefinitely. He will come to their rescue and set them free from sin and death. How will He do this? “For a child is born to us, a Son is given us; upon His shoulder dominion rests.” This season, we celebrate the fulfillment of that promise. This King, the Son of God, is the one named “Prince of Peace.” And yet, war is still with us; brutality abounds. Does the birth of God’s Son, the fulfillment of this promise, really make any difference?

Let us contemplate the scene at the center of it all: The Christ child. Immediately surrounding Him are His parents; and then the shepherds, who represent the community of believers. Overlooking the whole scene are the stars and the angels, the physical and spiritual heavenly realities. A rightly ordered universe has Christ at the center, with the family unit nurturing that Christ-centered life in the home, supported by the believing community, in union with those who pray for us from heaven.

Christ at the center: this means taking God at His word, trusting that what He teaches is true and seeking to live our lives after the pattern of the altruistic love which He has modeled for us. The history of God’s people is filled with examples of infidelity to God’s covenant and all the misery that that brings into the world. But it is also replete with examples of saints who are lights to us, teaching us the way to peace and salvation by their self-identification to Christ.

Conclusion

We can see no greater example of this than in the patron saint of our city and Archdiocese. At that Christmas in Greccio, when St. Francis set up the manger scene in church for the first time and, as a deacon, preached that Christmas Mass, he held the figure of the Christ child in his hands to present to the people for their devotion. After the Mass, the people went into the sanctuary to take pieces of the straw to keep as relics. Reports of miracles then began to circulate. Sick animals that ate the straw recovered their health, and women about to give birth touched the straw and had easy deliveries of their babies (cf. Thompson, p. 109).

Miracles can happen in our own time, too, if we keep Christ at the center, and fulfill faithfully the responsibilities to which He calls us according to our state of life. We do not have to resign ourselves to being conquered by sin; He gives us the power to conquer it and be set free, free to be healed and to live in peace, free to love, free to know, love and serve Him in this life, and to live perfectly happy with Him forever in heaven. May God grant us this grace.

Excerpted from Archbishop Cordileone’s homily at the National Shrine of St. Francis on Dec. 25, 2023