Homily by Fr R Christopher Heying
Some moments are so profoundly holy that the veil which normally seems to separate the divine from the human and human from the divine becomes translucent, and in that birth which we recall and make present this night, heaven enters earth and earth receives heaven.
In that nativity of Jesus, God welcomes us into that kingdom where mercy and truth meet and righteousness and peace kiss (Ps 85.10) in the one who is a child born for us, a son given to us who is Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (Is. 9.6), in the one who is as the angel declares, Savior, Messiah, and Lord.
That we might be a part of this union of heaven and earth is not a foregone conclusion, for in the prologue to John’s gospel, we read that “he came unto his own and his own received him not” (1.11). There seems to be an inviolable freedom in whether earth is willing to receive what heaven gives. Divinity does not force itself on humanity. Though he may have once been described as “the hound of heaven” (Francis Thompson, 1859-1907) for his relentless seeking after us, Jesus will not force either himself or his way upon us.
On that night so long ago, a young expectant mother and her betrothed did not force their way into some comfortable hotel room but accepted the humble accommodation they finally received.
The story of that search for a place is told through a four-hundred-year-old tradition celebrated in Mexico and other parts of Latin America, beginning 16 December and running through tonight, the 24th, nine days, one day for each month of Mary’s pregnancy.1
This tradition, called “Las Posadas,” is increasingly celebrated here in the Unites States of America, among a burgeoning Latino population. “Las Posadas” is Spanish for “the inns.”
The Posada is a reenactment of Mary’s and Joseph’s search for lodging and a place where Jesus could be born. Children in costume take the part of Mary and Joseph and are accompanied by “Peregrinos” or pilgrims, both adults and children, who go from house to house singing songs in which they request lodging:
Pray give us lodging, dear sir, in the name of heav’n.
All day since morning to travel we’ve giv’n.
Mary, my wife, is expecting a child.
She must have shelter tonight. Let us in, let us in!
At those homes, the Posaderos or innkeepers sing their rejection to the couple:
You cannot stop here, I won’t make my house an inn.
I do not trust you, your story is thin.
You two might rob me and then run away.
Find somewhere else you can stay. Go away, go away!
After they decline the request for lodging, those innkeepers become pilgrims too and together all move on to the next hope where hospitality is requested and denied.
And then at the third or perhaps the fourth home, Joseph sings,
Sir, I must tell you my wife is the queen of heav’n,
Chosen by God to deliver his Son.
Jesus is coming to earth on this eve.
Oh heaven, make him believe! Let us in, let us in!
Finally, the innkeepers relent and welcome the couple in, singing,
Joseph, dear Joseph, oh how could I be so blind?
Not to know you and the virgin so fine!
Enter, blest pilgrims, my house is your own.
Praise be to God on his throne! Please come in, please come in!
Then all sing together the final song of Las Posadas:
Enter, enter, holy pilgrims, holy pilgrims.
Welcome to my humble home.
Though ‘tis little I can offer,
All I have please call your own.
Another version gives a happy translation: “Come in, holy pilgrims, accept this corner, not of this poor house, but of my heart.”2
For reasons of weather, the Las Posadas ceremony can be done in one house, going from room to room. But whether it goes from house to house or room to room, it invariably ends with a party which would be woefully incomplete without a piñata for the children.
And in thanksgiving both for the Lord’s birth and my relatively newly discovered Latino heritage, I have provided such a piñata for any children able to stay after this service.
The Posada is about hospitality, about whether we will make room for this child born who is born for us, this son given, Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (9.6), the one whom the angel declares to be Savior, Messiah, and Lord.
Will we make room for him tonight and in the coming year?
But we should be forewarned that the scriptures reveal that when we invite the Savior in, he has this vexing tendency to re-arrange the furniture of our lives and to do so in a way that is not so much oriented toward increased comfort but rather increased holiness and abundant life, indeed showing the way of the cross to be the way to life. When we do invite Jesus in, he not only changes the furniture but reconstructs the very foundation of our lives.
On this holy night when heaven touches earth and earth heaven, if we are willing to let Jesus in maybe we too will sing,
Come in, come in, accept this corner, not of this poor house, but of my heart.
And as we follow the steps this year from the creche to the cross, maybe we will find our song will expand,
Not just into a corner of my heart only but into all I have and all I am I bid you come, come in, O Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, come in Savior, Messiah, Lord and give me the fullness of life that only you can give.
_____________
1 Hugo Olaiz, “How to Celebrate a Mexican Posada: A Packet for Lay Leaders, Musicians, and Clergy” (Chartered Committee on Hispanic Ministry, Episcopal Diocese of North Carolina, www.hospitalidadnc.org) retrireved 24 December 2014 at www.tens.org.
2 “Latinos here celebrate Christmas tradition Las Posadas, ‘festival of acceptance,” (Wisconsin State Journal, 23 December 2010), retrieved 24 December 2014 at host.madison.com.