A Quiet Christmas, the Perfect Atmosphere for the Birth of Jesus

Merry Christmas season!  This year Christmas was a quiet one for me since my sister’s family traveled to Hawaii to spend a week vacationing together.  I was feeling nostalgic as I went to Noche Buena service and Father gave such a great homily that I knew God was speaking to me directly.  Father told us about attending his first midnight service as a seminarian.  He said that all seminarians got a week off to spend with their families, but he was asked to serve at Christmas Eve service and he was not happy because in Mexico the twenty-fourth of December is a night of great partying.  Thus, he was regretting his decision to enter the seminary as he left the great home festivity to help with Mass.  In his town, as in mine, the streets close and people come out and make bonfires and the whole community eats, drinks and dances.  Sad to leave the celebration he headed to Mass quite gloomy.  The church was quite empty not even a third of the building was occupied by people ready to worship God.  The solemn service was quite a contrast from the celebrations on the streets; yet, there in the quiet Eucharistic celebration Father finally understood what Christmas was about.  He had a Christmas "conversion" and went home no longer needing to drink and be merry – straight to his room and closed the door with the most joyful feeling in his heart and a smile from ear to ear.

I was feeling unsatisfied before Noche Buena service because I was thinking how this year it was just me and my parents celebrating together.  I missed all the noise that my complete family usually provides.  Then I heard his homily and understood that sometimes the best things happen in silence - in quiet.  If we are too busy prepping the meal, drinking the beverages, giving the gifts- we might just miss the purpose of our celebration. As I worshipped God with “only” my parents I realized what a fool I had been focusing too much on non-essentials.  Through the midnight service Jesus was born in my heart and now the quiet seemed just the right atmosphere to hold him tight.  As I held him in my heart he overwhelmed me with his truth and I left Mass with a smile from ear to ear (too) because I had just partied with my Savior. I kissed his little head and understood the right way to do Christmas.

The three of us piled in my car changed, sharing the beauty of the service and the blessing of being together one more year for the Christmas season.  No longer sad that we were heading back to a quiet house, actually quite the opposite because our hearts were full- full of Jesus.  

Gift Giving Learning from Jesus

I normally write over fifty cards each Christmas season and I try to personalize each by expressing an original sentiment in each because I hate getting cards that are only signed by the giver.  This year, however, I never made the time to write my cards and I was feeling guilty for not dedicating the time to do so because it’s the season of giving.  Over two-thousand years ago God gave us his son- my nephew has been saying that he heard that December twenty-fifth is not Jesus’ actual birthdate that the Church used a pagan holiday celebrated on December twenty-fifth to convert people.  I told him that I thought Mother Mary would remember the day she gave birth to her only son and pass it on to the disciples, but that even if Jesus’ actual birthday is not on Christmas Day we celebrate the fact that he came into this world.  We celebrate that God gave us the first Christmas gift in giving us Jesus. 

So, what happens in the gift giving process?  Gadiium et Specs, puts it best “Man… cannot fully find himself except through a sincere gift of self.” God gave us Jesus and each of us in return must give ourselves to Him.  This whole notion of giving ourselves can get diluted in repetition in hearing it so much in our journey or it can just fly beyond our comprehension.  Thus, it’s good to think of this mutual giving in terms of something we know like a couple in love.  When two people love each other there’s this giving and receiving happening both at once, it’s this mutual action that creates closeness and satisfaction.  It also provides a safe haven to grow and to let barriers down.  This week I got a thank you note in the mail from a friend whose wedding I attended.  In it she wrote the sweetest personalized message and it made my day hearing how much my presence, gift and writing about her wedding in my blog meant to her and her hubby.  I felt super elated after reading her card and I messaged her back thanking her for the warm note and then we went through this whole “no, thank you” moment.  This exchange in gifts is an example of mutual giving and receiving- which happens in all healthy relationships.  If this reciprocity is not practiced there won’t be harmony.  Just think of the many times people in your life have complained that they give and give and their partner only takes.  When there isn’t reciprocating actions one party will always feel hurt and used.

On Jesus’ birthday three wise men traveled to his birth place to pay homage and to bring Jesus’ gifts.  There’s a funny cartoon out there that says that if it had been three wise women Jesus would have gotten more practical gifts like diapers, formula and casseroles- but whatever the gifts it always astonishes me that in the Nativity Story there’s an actual gift exchange.  God shows in such a literal way that the lover receives the gift with delight, but also returns this action with love.  Even if our gifts are never to the magnitude of God in giving us His son, God delights in us giving Him our hearts little by little.  Thus, as you place your gifts underneath your Christmas tree ask yourself what gift am I giving God this year?

Christmas Weekend Fun

After being sick with the flu for most of last week on Friday I finally left the house to attend the annual Young Catholic Professionals Christmas party.  Though, I was still feeling a bit weak my friends’ insisted that I leave my cave and after much motivation we carpooled to the event to have a great time mingling with other Catholics while dressed to the nines.  I was able to catch up with some friends and to get to know others a little more.  I spent most of my night with a new girlfriend talking about mental illness and our struggles.  It always surprises me to learn about others who are battling with mental illness because some of us are really great at hiding it. So, there in the middle of lights and Christmas cheer we found support in one-another.

Saturday, was a busy day that ended with a visit to Sherman Library to walk through the bright lit up gardens.  If you are looking for a place to take the little ones to participate in a little Christmas cheer the Sherman Library Christmas lights display is perfect.  Each garden is decorated differently, there’s s’mores to make, wine or hot coco to drink and even snow falling in certain areas. A beautiful place to tour and take in all the lights.

Sunday, was an extremely busy day…

Singing Happy Birthday to Jesus at RCIA…

Getting formed at my Franciscan Fraternity and meeting my new formation guide.

And closing with my Gianna’s Christmas Cookie Recipe Swap.  I have long wanted to learn to make holiday cookies and I kind of suggested this event and the leader of our club made my wish come true.  Each attendee brought a couple dozen homemade cookies and the recipe to share.  At the end of the night we each left the party with a batch of mixed Christmas cookies and a nice collection of recipes.  I also walked away with a Pope Francis bobble head trophy for winning the most cheerful outfit.

It was a great weekend full of joy just in line with Gaudete Sunday!

A Talk with Father Boyle and His Homies

A couple weeks ago I had the pleasure of attending a talk given by Father Greg Boyle and two homies.  I had heard about Homeboy Industries and about the ministry of Father in rehabilitating gang members through my classes at the diocese.  That was the extent of my knowledge and I must admit that I had painted in mind an image of what I thought Father G was like.  For some reason I thought he was a former gang member who found Christ and became a priest and with the help of his previous life was able to connect with gang members himself.  I even had an image of what he would sound like and I was certain that his language would be high street that again connected with the population that he works with.  When a jolly, round man resembling Santa Claus took the podium I was confused and when he began to speak in a language of a highly intelligent individual I was totally surprised.  He’s a Jesuit who majored in Language Arts, thus, his dominion of the English language is impressive- in fact some of the gang members at first are intimidated by the way that he communicates.  Yet, his education and no past personal gang involvement have not been a barrier in connecting with people in the margins.  Though some of the homies refer to him as Mr. Rogers because of the sweaters he wears, he has managed to connected with people who society has rejected and has worked miracles.

On this night he took two homies who had been at Homeboy Industries for only a month and both took the podium to share their testimony.  I was struck by the young man who walked with a limp.  He shared that he had been shot thirty-three times, stabbed seven, got run over three times and the rest of the hurts were freebies (as he stated with a smile).  He shared how he was tired of the gang life, of being locked up and was finally ready to make a change to pursue better choices with the help of Father G.  Both testimonies were stories of unimaginable hurt and even though both men made us cry – they had a sense of humor that made us laugh keeping the tears to minimum.  They both got standing ovations from the entire audience because Father G’s ministry does more than rehabilitate gang members it also helps society see “them” as human beings with burdens heavier than most of us have ever carried.  While normally gang members get demonize - Father G reminds us that they “belong to us” in kinship and that beyond the bad decisions and body ink they are men and women that run to gangs to get away from terrible home violence and abuse.

At the talk I was able to get both of Father G’s books and I read them both quickly at home.  I listened to stories of men and women that have been severely tortured and hurt by those who had the obligation to love and provide.  Of men and women who were born with all things stacked against them, thus their outcome inevitable.  And of a man who lives to serve them and to show them that they belong, are worthy and are loved.  Father G not only helps rehabilitate gang members, but he also reminds us that people are not evil and as Christians we have the duty to love and reach those in the margins.  Both of his books make great gifts this Christmas I especially liked Tattoos on the Heart.    

Eating Posh with my Family

Yesterday, was my nephew’s winter piano recital.  Afterwards, I asked him if we were going to go eat grass (my dad’s way of identifying the Soup Plantation), but he said he wanted Olive Garden. So, as a family we drove from the auditorium to the restaurant of his choice.  As I sat there with my family- I recalled the first time that I ate at the Olive Garden as a teenager.  I had been assigned a mentor in high school and this wonderful lady opened me to a life that I never imagined I could be part of.  Poor people don’t go to restaurants- if they celebrate they normally hit a fast food place because the price is right.  My family was so dirt poor that even McDonald’s was difficult to afford.  Thus, when I found myself having lunch at the Olive Garden as a teenager I couldn’t believe that I had gotten access to a world that I always felt held a “Keep Out” sign.  It was unfamiliar territory so many occasions for possible humiliation that poor people just stay out of cloth napkin restaurants; but, my mentor guided me through the entire process.  As the waitress interrogated me on how I wanted my food my mentor was right beside to guide me in answering the many questions that go with putting an order.  I remember coming home and sharing with my family how I had been to the “fancy” restaurant that was within walking distance from our then home.   

After college I got a job working for a non-profit as a funding coordinator.  Part of my job was going to posh events to meet with current and possible donors.  My first event was at the Ritz.  I drove up to the valet parking and the valets completely ignored my beat-up 1987 GMC Jimmy (a car that had been baptized "a wreck from the war") so I just parked the car myself.  The valet guys including the person in charge of welcoming still thought I was lost as I asked directions to the area where my organization was meeting.  This was my first event where my boss was going to start my training; yet, she was running late.  So, there I was in the middle of wealthy people who were asking me for my political affiliation and if I was a Penny from the successful Pennys’ of Duarte.  I’ve always been terrible at small talk and I felt my hands getting sweaty wishing that I could go talk with the service people in the kitchen instead, when finally my boss saved me.  She started guiding me around the room showing me how to navigate a fundraiser.  I was beginning to feel confident when we were asked to enter the dining area and sit down for our lunch.  As I sat down I remember feeling like Jack in the movie “Titanic” thinking I had never seen so many utensils at once.  I’d figure that I would just imitate what others did as each dish was placed before me.  Then came the plates so artistically presented and as I cut into a round vegetable that I had never seen before the sphere ran out of my plate and onto the floor where I quickly kicked it under the table hoping no one had seen.  After surviving the event, my boss and I made our way outside towards the valet she handed her card to the driver and waited for me to do the same, “Oh, I actually have to go get my car myself.”  She looked confused, “It’s cool my old car fooled the valets,” I added with a smile.

These two experiences made for some great sharing with my family and friends as the first time I ate with cloth napkins and the first time I ate like a passenger on the RMS Titanic!  I come from an insignificant pueblito in Mexico so every time God allows me to see a world that I never thought I would, I marvel with the same awe natural to children.  This ability to awe – to allow ourselves to be small and deeply impressed by the gifts God provides is needed.  It keeps us humble when we delight in a world where doors open that show us that we do belong.   

Angela's Christmas Movie Review

I live next to a three-year-old who every year when she sees Jesus for the first time in my outdoor nativity she likes to make a run for it.  She makes a straight line towards Jesus’ manger and picks up the babe and then turns to take him home.  However, it’s a little tricky to make a clean run because Jesus is hooked to an electric cord because Jesus lights up at night along with the rest of my decorations. The little girl’s dad usually catches her before she pulls the plug on Jesus and explains that she must just look and not touch.  This year my dad put a small fence more as a joke to try to keep out the small thief.  It wasn’t until I was browsing through the Netflix holiday movie selection that I came across a newly added thirty minute animated film (that is sure to make your heart melt) when I realized that kids stealing Jesus is a common Christmas occurrence.  Just google, “child stealing Jesus,” and your feed will be full of bloopers of children unable to keep their hands off the Christmas babe! 

Now, if you find yourself with half-an-hour to spare or a house full of children that need something to focus on then I recommend that you watch “Angela’s Christmas.”  The short film follows Angela as she mischievously steals baby Jesus from her church’s nativity thinking baby Jesus is cold.  Angela’s only desire is to take Jesus home and wrap him in a blanket so that he won’t be cold or catch his death.  This little action makes for such a warm story of love and of the true meaning of Christmas.  My favorite part is the interaction between Angela and Jesus, the little girl talks to the babe as if he’s made of flesh and bones.  In the same way when her brother discovers what Angela has done he declares, “you must take him back his parents must be terribly worried.”  This innocence is what makes the film so remarkable! 

Though it’s based on a Children’s book and made short enough to keep the attention of little ones the film can still be enjoyed by the whole family.  In thirty minutes little Angela will make one laugh, cry and contemplate having a closer relationship with Christ.  I walked away with a great desire to be able to talk to Jesus with the same trust and innocence of young Angela and most importantly to treat God like He is alive and listening.  Sometimes deep spiritual practices get so convoluted in our minds that it takes a child to break the complexity and show us that prayer is as easy as holding Jesus in your arms desiring to keep him cozy.  Her child imagination also shows us that everyone deserves to be warm and loved during this time of year.  Thus, I recommend this film- two thumbs up- watch it next to a warm chimney with your loved ones if you are blessed with both.   

Lessons of the Winter

On Friday, I had my last company Christmas party while I was extended a couple more months, most of my remaining coworkers were laid off, November 30^th being their last day.  Thus, it was a bitter sweet celebration where we gathered one last time as a team before parting ways. This being the third time that I get laid off, I have learned that losing a job brings the worst in us, but also the best.  On Friday, the CEO responsible for relocating the company to Texas was in attendance, in addition to Santa Claus, people who completed their last day of work and free booze- I was certain it was a recipe for disaster or at least lots of drama.  Having been in the trenches these past months I have seen the despair and anger of losing a job so near the holidays can cause. 

One of my coworkers who always had a sunny disposition became angry and bitter.  After years of seeing him always in a bubbly way, I learned once again that one can’t trust appearances.  Often, I’ve heard about how people that are always happy are usually covering deep hurt, but it’s easy to classify a smile as someone with their ducks in a row.  It was during an after office gathering that I spoke with Joy and he told me how upset he was by the layoff because it made him feel like a failure.  It made him feel like all the professional decisions he’s made up to this point have been wrong.  I still remember how surprised he was when I told him, “It is just a job.” Then the following day I emailed him one of my favorite Maya Angelou essays in which her mother tells Maya that losing a job is not the end of the world.  I’ve often felt like a professional failure – when I had to stop teaching, when I got diagnosed as bipolar and couldn’t work for a year, every time I have gotten laid off, when I compare myself to others, when I see my paycheck and wish there were more zeros, when I remember there’s no fancy titles after my name…  It’s hard to live in this country and not measure success the way we are taught to do so - by the amount of money, title or power acquired…  On my lowest self-pity days I can throw a mad party listing all the wrongs, all the things lacking, all the mistakes made and all the dying dreams.  However, God is teaching me to rise above my circumstances by controlling my thoughts or rather by replacing desolate thinking with TRUTH.  In the end what titles or jobs I held won’t matter because God doesn’t measure a life well lived the way the world does.  He gives us all the same twenty-four hours and the talents necessary to fulfill our mission on earth.  Sometimes our mission is to pass to others bits of what we have recently learned, like when we get laid off to say with confidence, “it’s just a job, I had a job before and I will have another after.”  

Am happy to report that even though the recipe for drama was definitely in place, everyone used the moment as a time to enjoy each other one last time.  I went home thinking about how I wouldn’t see most people coming today, but how much I learned from them - to smile and see the goodness even in uncertain times. Most importantly to celebrate what was and not pity what could have been.