When at the Door of Humility…

Homily: Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord

John 1:1-18

25 December 2020

Fr. Ricky C. Montanez

Entering the Door of Humility

“By the power of the Holy Spirit He was born of the Virgin and became Man”. At those words, we all kneel each time the creed is recited during CTKs five masses for the Nativity of the Lord. On bended knees we acknowledge in gesture our faith in the great mystery of Christianity that is, God in Jesus Christ was born of a woman by the power of the Holy Spirit, in order that He may become one of us. This is how the Prologue of St. John’s Gospel puts it: “The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us”. (John 1:14) We prostrate ourselves in profound worship of our God who took on our humble state in order that He may raise us all up to status of being the children of God.   

Christmas is an equally important feast, as is Easter, because we celebrate the love of God who sent no less than His own Son to save us no matter how many times humanity has failed Him. “Through him the holy exchange that restores our life has shone forth today in splendour: when our frailty is assumed by your word not only does human mortality receive unending honour but by this wondrous union we, too, are made eternal.” They are the words of the Third Preface of the Nativity of the Lord.  God becoming man, revolutionizes our humanity. We are no longer merely human because as children of God we have been endowed with the divine potential. We are empowered to share in His divinity. “To those who did accept Him He gave power to become children of God.” (John 1:12) St. Irenaeus of Lyons expressed this process of divinization or deification as “God becoming what we are so that we might become what He is.” Each Christmas, we recall this divine condescension and marvel in worship at this unfathomable mystery of God’s love. 

I am sure some of you here have been blessed to visit the Holy Land at least once. In Bethlehem, you can visit the birthplace of Jesus.  Around that small patch of ground is built a massive church called the Church of the Nativity.  To enter, you must cross a small courtyard towards a tiny door that is disproportionate to the size of the church. It is called the door of humility. One has to literally bend and stoop low in order to enter. We are told that it was designed as such to discourage pilgrims in the old days from disrespecting the sacred site by riding their horses through the door.  Our tour guide pointed out to us that even kings and emperors who would visit the place had to dismount from their horses and get on their knees to be able to visit this holy place.  To this day, entering this door is always an act of humility.  It is only right that we must humble ourselves to visit the very place where our loving God stooped down to man’s wretchedness to give us hope. I would like to share with you a quote from Christian-thinker, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a personal favourite of mine. He once was asked “Who will celebrate Christmas correctly?” He answered, “Whoever finally lays down all power, all honour, all reputation, all vanity, all arrogance, all individualism beside the manger.”  

It doesn’t seem logical that we should meet our God’s deep act of love and humility with arrogance and conceit. Don’t you, agree?   However, we sometimes forget that.  We forget that we ought to rise above our petty selves in order to live up to the potential we have received by the mystery of the incarnation. I know of someone who went to Church one Sunday morning yet entered into a heated argument with another churchgoer in the parking lot.  It really does not matter what started the whole disagreement, he just lost his cool and shouted expletives at the person who had slighted him. He felt bad about it afterwards but he justified his actions saying, “Awful days like this can happen,” “We cannot avoid annoying persons out there” and finally, the overused excuse, “I am simply human.” (Tao lang po.) I am simply human? We tend to think this is a valid excuse when we allow our emotions to get the better of us. Is it really? Was it a good enough reason to ruin one’s day of worship? I’m sure we all have our pet peeves.  When we choose to give in to irritation, we are no different from that person who had an outburst in the parking area after mass. When we think of the Incarnation, we realise that the “I am but human!” excuse takes on a very different meaning for us because Jesus has sanctified our existence and empowered us to become children of God. 

At the other end of the spectrum, we sometimes think that we are on the same level as God, such that God is degraded to someone who is supposed to serve at our whim and grant our wishes on demand like a genie. We get mad when we don’t get what we ask for. We blame Him when we lose things we love or enjoy. We criticize Him for allowing suffering in the world.  A famous friend of mine (“She wants me to refer to her as such.”) was having these very thoughts when her sister snapped her out of it, by asking her, “Who is God in that scenario? You or Him? Know your place.” We forget our place. Our arrogance prevents us from recognizing that God is supreme and that only His power and wisdom are without bounds. We have to learn to humble ourselves before Him and to submit to His plans. He is after all the one who designed the elaborate plan to save us from sin. A plan whose benefits we continue to enjoy. A plan that gives us the promise of spending eternity with Him. 

In closing, I would like to stress the importance of humility. Humility is the only appropriate posture of the creature before the Creator. We all must humble ourselves, bow low and walk through that door.   We surrender everything to God as an act of homage to His generous love for us. It is also our act of faith in our God who has come to make all things possible for us. And so, with Him, we endure suffering more patiently, we continue to hope through all levels of adversity and we give of ourselves more generously in service of our brothers and sisters in need. Today, we hold in faith that the path to a better world does not begin with lofty ideas and grandiose plans but rather on our knees before a God who came to save and raise us up.