Christmas Vigil Mass December 24, 2023
Fr. Alexander Albert St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette
Arthur J Albert became the father of Julius. Julius became the father of Jules Sr. Jules Sr. became the father Jules Jr., whose mother was Bertha. Jules Jr. became the father of Kenneth, whose mother was Nancy. Kenneth became the father of Alexander. Alexander became a priest and stands before you now. But what does that list of names tell you? Probably not much and not nearly as much as the Gospel’s list.
Yet, in both, there are important details if you know who those people were. My grandfather’s mother was a Flick, a family that came from Bordeaux, France when a wine merchant immigrated to New Orleans and married a German immigrant. It’s how I know I have both French and German heritage. My grandmother Nancy was from Georgia and had some distant ancestors who were Cherokee natives. She was also a convert to the Catholic faith and quite the spiritual warrior, well known to many in the Catholic circles of New Orleans. To this day, I still encounter people whose response to me is influenced by what they know about my grandmother.
Now, I don’t tell you this because my lineage is all that special. I do it to show you how the list of names in the Gospel matters. My lineage has directly impacted your life through the fact that I’m in front of you now and know many of you personally. Well, despite the fact that it ended 2000 years ago in a man who you’ve never seen and heard the way you see and hear me, the lineage of Jesus Christ has impacted your life far more dramatically than mine ever will. Because these people aren’t just Jesus’ ancestors, they’re yours.
By faith in Jesus Christ, Abraham becomes our father in faith, making us heirs to the promises of everlasting blessing given to him by God. King David, a man after God’s own heart is in the list. King Solomon, wisest of kings is there. It should ennoble us know we come from men so great whose inheritance now belongs to us.
Yet, it should also humble and console us to know there are great sinners in that list. Murderers, prostitutes, liars, thieves, and pagans all make an appearance. Rahab and Ruth were both foreigners brought into the fold of God’s people and given the honor of being a direct ancestor of Jesus Christ. Jeconiah “did evil in the sight of the Lord,” was deposed by the pagan Emperor Nebuchadnezzar, and was cursed by Jeremiah the prophet. Yet he too made the list.
Why would God allow such a motley crew of good, bad, and ugly to be his ancestors? So that no one would think they weren’t worthy to become the family of God, of Jesus Christ. You are his family. Or, if you are not yet baptized, you are invited to become his family, to share in the redemption of great sinners and the splendors of great saints.
So strongly did God want to convey this to you that he even sidestepped the excuse of biology. We all have ancestors and family members we’re not exactly proud of. When ashamed of someone tied to us by blood, we can always shrug our shoulders and say “what can you do? You can’t choose who you’re related to.”
But God can. And He did. Notice that this whole list culminates not in Mary, but in Joseph. Jesus is born of Mary, ever-virgin. Joseph is not the biological father of Jesus. His blood relatives are not the ancestors of Jesus by blood, but by law. Joseph even offered to remove himself from the equation, to let Mary and Jesus stand on their own legacy without any ties to him. But God commanded him to keep Mary as his wife and take Jesus as his own. That adoption is just as binding as blood. God chose to be adopted into, bound to the ancestry of Joseph so as to say “I can choose my family. I chose them and I choose you.”
And he doesn’t do so begrudgingly, but with joy. The entire first reading is a prolonged song of joy and God is the one singing. He “will not be quiet” about his plan for “nations” to “behold your vindication” and how he shall call you “My Delight,” rejoicing just as much in you as a man newly married delights in his bride.
By any earthly standard, our God is insane. Human beings have a long, unbroken record of selfishness, destruction, and utter infidelity. Yet God keeps coming to us, taking us back, cleaning us up, and insisting that we be treated like his perfect, unblemished bride. Knowing full well that we almost always kill his messengers and servants, he put his own son into our hands. The infinite power of the Son of God, the Eternal Word, became a tiny vulnerable child on this night all those years ago because our love-mad God wanted to say to you, “I call you my family and I take you to live with me forever.”
So that is why we rejoice now, why we so naturally associate Christmas with spending time with our family, why we’re willing to put up with the difficult members of that family and do things we’d normally avoid. By divine providence, that is part of what makes this time of year so special. And we’ve only just begun. For two whole weeks we are delving into this mystery. Don’t stop now.
There’s only one thing that hangs in the balance with all of this: will we let ourselves be chosen? Will we let ourselves truly become the family of God? Will we share the great family meal of the Eucharist with our God and father not just once or twice a year, but every week and more? Will we extend gratitude for the gift of life and redemption made possible by this divine adoption? Will we welcome the broken and the weak the way we have been welcomed? Do not be afraid to take God into your home and life – no matter your sins, you can be forgiven. And even if letting God in seems too frightening, then why not begin where Joseph began? Take Mary into your home that you might learn from her just how eager God is to be family to you the way family was meant to be, the way that maybe you never experienced in your own family. This is your father’s house. The Father of the Son who was born of Mary and laid in a manger so that, just as so-and-so became father to so-and-so, Jesus Christ might become father, brother, and redeemer to you if only you are not too afraid to take him into your home, your heart, your very soul.