Today you will know that the Lord will come,
and in the morning you will see glory.
Entrance Antiphon Christmas Vigil Mass Dear Friends,
The cave was shaped by the elements
over any number of centuries,
by whirling water
and stones rubbing against one another
by temperature change and
by hand-scrapings and footsteps of every size and shape.
Even before the Innkeeper claimed the cave
to shelter his domestic animals,
others had probably sought shelter there from storms
or just because night was quickly falling
and it was dangerous to sleep outdoors.
Caves were treasures in the wilderness.
A grown man could stand erect in this cave.
And the way it opened to the outdoors seemed
to impede cold air from rushing in
to dissipate the warmth of the cave.
A good place to shelter for people and beasts alike.
This well used cave,
hollowed out of the earth
became a hallowed place
late one evening
when a man and his very pregnant wife
were turned away from the inn.
“No room,”
the Innkeeper repeated several times
to the travelers at the door.
“No room. No room. No room.”
But the weariness on her face
and the desperation in his eyes
caused the innkeeper
to think again.
The stable. It would have to do.
Carved out of the earth, it was warm and dry and snug.
The cave waited breathlessly.
Would they want it to be
the first House of God this night?
Within the heart of the earth,
surrounded by creatures large and small,
the Holy One was born.
Joseph and all the animals there
knew about birthing.
Mary brought forth Jesus.
He cried out.
Was it “Hello? I am here.”
Many years he would cry out again.
“It is finished.”
And then he would be laid in a cave again –
a borrowed tomb.
And then there would be more,
believable to all who opened themselves
to that more.
In the arc of His life,
when He was helpless
to do for Himself,
Jesus was cared for.
To find Him,
we need to go to the cave,
and then,
there will be more.
over any number of centuries,
by whirling water
and stones rubbing against one another
by temperature change and
by hand-scrapings and footsteps of every size and shape.
Even before the Innkeeper claimed the cave
to shelter his domestic animals,
others had probably sought shelter there from storms
or just because night was quickly falling
and it was dangerous to sleep outdoors.
Caves were treasures in the wilderness.
A grown man could stand erect in this cave.
And the way it opened to the outdoors seemed
to impede cold air from rushing in
to dissipate the warmth of the cave.
A good place to shelter for people and beasts alike.
This well used cave,
hollowed out of the earth
became a hallowed place
late one evening
when a man and his very pregnant wife
were turned away from the inn.
“No room,”
the Innkeeper repeated several times
to the travelers at the door.
“No room. No room. No room.”
But the weariness on her face
and the desperation in his eyes
caused the innkeeper
to think again.
The stable. It would have to do.
Carved out of the earth, it was warm and dry and snug.
The cave waited breathlessly.
Would they want it to be
the first House of God this night?
Within the heart of the earth,
surrounded by creatures large and small,
the Holy One was born.
Joseph and all the animals there
knew about birthing.
Mary brought forth Jesus.
He cried out.
Was it “Hello? I am here.”
Many years he would cry out again.
“It is finished.”
And then he would be laid in a cave again –
a borrowed tomb.
And then there would be more,
believable to all who opened themselves
to that more.
In the arc of His life,
when He was helpless
to do for Himself,
Jesus was cared for.
To find Him,
we need to go to the cave,
and then,
there will be more.
~Sister Joan Sobala
