The Joy of Christmas
Every time I went to my apostolate area at the Home for the Elderly, Tatay Berto would always be there, waiting for us, shaking our hands, asking how we were. At the end of each visit, he would smile and say, “Sana maabutan ko kayo maging pari at ako na ang magbebless sa inyo.” I would usually respond, “Hindi po natin sure, Tay,” and he would gently reply, “Hindi mo nga sure, pero may awa ang Diyos.”
Perhaps it was this unwavering trust in the mercy of God that gave Tatay Berto a quiet joy, one that he shared effortlessly with everyone he encountered. His simple yet profound awareness of God’s mercy made joy tangible, almost contagious. In many ways, this is the same joy we recall today as we remember the first Christmas: the moment when God revealed Himself as one of us.
The joy of Christmas is found in the presence of God. In this presence, there is no longer room for lasting sadness or grief, because God does not come to us from a distance. He comes close, within our own humanity. Christmas reminds us that joy is not something we manufacture or force upon ourselves, it is something we receive when we allow ourselves to be found by God.
Christmas calls us back to the joy of the Gospel, the joy to which the Lord continually invites us. It invites us to look at life in the light of Christ: a light that does not impose itself, but patiently allows itself to be encountered. This light is discovered by those who are willing to step outside themselves, to set out on a journey, and to seek with openness and humility.
To encounter the Lord who has manifested Himself in our humanity, the first step is always to arise. We are called to leave behind our inner refuges, our false securities, and our fixed ways of seeing the world. To get up requires courage. It means abandoning a sedentary life that may feel safe but ultimately immobilizes us. It means accepting the fatigue of the journey and exposing ourselves to the uncertainty of what is not yet clear.
Yet it is precisely in this movement that true encounter becomes possible. It is in lowering oneself that distance is bridged and diversity becomes habitable. This is not a loss of identity, but a surrender of it, an opening of oneself to the mystery that the other brings. In doing so, we come to realize that the joy of Christmas is not only about finding God, but about discovering that we have always been sought, always been found, and always been loved.
