In the span of the next 24 hours, we will say the words: “Merry Christmas” to many people, in some cases almost automatically, perfunctorily, without giving much thought to its significance.  

As believers, we are ready to be part of this collective rejoicing, provided that, after it is done in a quaint, brief way, we can hurry home and celebrate Christmas in a way that keeps all our traditions intact and unfolds according to our plans. 

However, I ask for your kind forgiveness so that I may question our plans for the purpose of making this year’s Christmas celebration more spiritually beneficial and with the assurance of a deeper, longer-lasting joy. 

It starts with an unusual question: let us list the people to whom we cannot wish “Merry Christmas” because it would be inappropriate or even offensive and cruel. 

The first to whom we cannot wish “Merry Christmas” must be the homeless left out in the cold, then those who are getting evicted, those who got laid off right before Christmas, those who lost a member of their family in these days, those who feel nauseous due to chemotherapy, those on hospice care and their families, those who live alone and feel terribly lonely, first responders, E.R. personnel, etc. 

Now that I got you started, we can continue this sad list by adding real people in our life who are experiencing prolonged anguish. 

Now, being this a church run by missionaries such as myself, we can expand our list by including political prisoners rotting in prison under inhumane conditions and the faceless victims of natural calamities, sex and labor trafficked children and so on. 

The reason why I am forcing myself and all of you to think about these unfortunate people is because I want our Christmas to be truly joyful and our saying “Merry Christmas” to finally be legitimate and heartfelt.  

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, this is the flesh that God took on 2000 years ago in Bethlehem. 

The gospel narrative of his birth states that there was no room for them in the inn. (Luke 2:7) 

The inn was a rudimental caravanserai: four posts holding a thatched roof. At the edge of the roof there was a large feeding trough for the animals of the travelers. The whole complex was fenced in. 

Apparently, those under the thatched roof were packed shoulder to shoulder; therefore, Mary had to deliver baby Jesus on the straw among the animals and, after having wrapped him in swaddling clothes, she placed him in the feeding trough! 

This is the flesh that our Savior assumed in Betlehem.  

My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, our Lord knows firsthand all about pained flesh! 

The narrative of the Christmas Day Mass offers additional information: and the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us; (John 1: 14) a more literal translation would be: He pitched his tent among us. 

Clearly, from all eternity, our God has been aware of all the pain of all human flesh across the millennia! 

That is why he hurries to be close to all pained flesh! You see: to build a house it takes months, while to pitch a tent it takes a few minutes. 

Christmas shouts to us that, not only our God hurries to care for all pained flesh, but also that he has designed Christmas to be truly merry only for those who decide to fight indifference and aloofness by drawing close to any pained flesh they see close to them or of which they have become aware through concerned information. 

Remember the practical suggestions given by John the Baptist? Our greeting of “Merry Christmas” will become heartfelt and sincere if we do something concrete for the flesh of our God that clamors for our direct and immediate care. 

It could be a donation to a Soup Kitchen or a Warming Center, the Salvation Army, the St. Vincent de Paul Society, a Pregnancy Center or to the foreign missions and so on, or a visit, a phone call, a letter, the rebuilding of a bridge that we had burned, a series of emails designed to prove to someone that he/she is not forgotten or invisible, but important and cared for. 

The choice is very simple: if we decide to live in a bubble of comfortable semi-isolation, our “Merry Christmas” greetings will sound hollow, and our Christmas will last but a few hours. 

However, if we take our cue from the first Christmas and we draw close to the pained flesh of God, true joy will fill our minds and hearts for a long, long time and into eternity.