The Joy

Christ is born! Glorify Him!

In my youth, I always felt I belonged somewhere near the Magi in the Christmas story—calculating something of my own, gladly preparing for the journey, living in anticipation of a great voyage, gazing at the starry sky. This rhythm of Advent and Christmas became familiar.

But something has shifted lately: I find myself drawn closer to the shepherds. Day after day I do ordinary things, not rushing toward Christmas (life rushes past quickly enough on its own)... And still, here it is—Christmas. Why was it the shepherds, routinely tending their flocks, who were granted that astonishing vision of the heavenly host singing?

My joy, too, has changed. It feels now as though it has passed through kintsugi (Fr. Matthew Brown wrote something similar recently on Public Orthodoxy—I’ll borrow his image).

There He lies in the manger, and we know what awaits Him almost immediately: flight into Egypt. And still—this joy cannot be taken from us. The joy that somehow unites.

We remain astonishingly, hopelessly different. We have forgotten how to hope for unity, and too often have despaired of seeking it. Even the Church today has become an imagined community—not always and not everywhere can it be called home. Yet on this night, we stand at the manger. Not because we have found and accepted one another (that road is still long, and must be traveled again and again)—but because He has found and embraced us.

Merry Christmas!

Stained glass by the remarkable Adam Stallone-Dobrzański (1904–1985)