A few years ago, Andrii Pleshu wondered what the faithful expected from the Christmas sermon. I cannot afford to give lessons or even advice to the “professionals” who year after year turn to people to illuminate the meaning of the holiday – said the writer politely. I can only say what I expect. I expect novelty (ie no repetitive phrases) and relevance (ie a message I can use as soon as I step out of the church into the world). Don’t get me wrong: I don’t want originality at any price, nor a collection of more or less transparent allusions to the current situation. But I want to feel that the speaker lives his message fresh, without routine, always trying to discover it anew and associate me with this discovery. I also want to see how the great event of the holiday comes to life in the specific context in which it is located. The reality of Christmas, engulfed by consumerism and the (unbridled) cynicism of social languor, ultimately distracts us from the main thing, rather than easing the burden of existence. I don’t know if Andriy Plesho’s expectations have been met in the meantime, although, as he assures us, he doesn’t want to necessarily a subtle theological dissertation. But neither is more than the predictable pious pomp of a celebratory speech.

A valedictory speech from the height of the pulpit is not really a valedictory speech, and contrary to what one might think, one cannot settle for the simple premise of “tradition of the ancestors.” A Christmas-inspired sermon opens not only the living presence of the Gospel, but also a dialogue with your peers, with whom you in turn share your hopes and wonders, seeking to show that your own struggle with yourself is not just an imagined reality.

There will always be plenty of people who have lived through dark times, angry at life and tempted to believe that their existence, at least from a certain age, is merely a record of personal achievement or failure. That is why, for me, when I search for the appropriate words during the holidays, I continue to feel like a believer looking for answers in the Word of God. Exactly three years ago, I came out of isolation after contracting Covid-19. Encountering such a dramatic experience (which put my life in serious danger) confirmed to me how little the criteria by which we organize our existence matter, in general, and how easily things can go awry at any moment. That balancing moment that I was given to live had no poetic note. But now I read Eminescu’s inspired line, “I didn’t think I’d ever learn to die” differently, about the terrible reality of human worthlessness. Since then, I consider my existence to be a different, “new” reality, if I can call it that.

Year after year, Christmas brings with it an invitation to contemplate fragility as a distinctive sign of God who has come into the world to meet us. Any return to Him, regardless of the era, involves “renewal”, that is, the admission of spiritual rebirth by faith. Approaching the spirit of Jesus also encourages us to relativize the reality of our own strengths, subjective goodness, and methods of survival. By reviewing the details preceding the birth of Jesus described in the Gospels, the path of internalizing faith implicitly appeals to specific situations in which any foresight or skill would be laughed at. If we succeeded then – I mean believers! – to refuse to put forward before God the conditions for the covenant of faith with Him, it will no longer seem impossible to us to recognize that during a short passage through the world, the goal of faith is the pursuit of eternal joy of his love.

The power and prestige of human greatness are completely absent from the scene of Bethlehem. Encountering the universe of Jesus’ birth in this way, we begin to see not only that God pours out His grace upon the breath of Creation in a way that is difficult to find in patterns, but also that He offers Himself. That He waits and endures – being so indulgent in His mercy – that He is able to speak to us even in our foolishness. “I came,” says Jesus, “so that those who do not see may see, and those who see may not see!” (John 9, 39)”. _Read the entire article and comment on Contributors.ro