The word infant literally means “one who cannot speak.” How ironic, then, that the eternal Word is born into the world as a helpless infant who utters not a single syllable. While some will see such a contradiction as absurd, our faith nevertheless invites us to trust that there is a lesson in it all. What if the Word’s humble acceptance of this particular plan of salvation actually sounds forth more powerfully than all the wavelengths that ever existed? What if, by this divine risk of incarnation, the Word is modeling for us the meaning of our human existence? What if instead of “speaking our minds,” “voicing our opinions” and “telling our tales,” we are called to be co-listeners with the Word, to be vulnerable by our openness, and to speak a message of hope to others through the very witness of our lives? One day that little baby will become a man and the wooden manger will become the Cross, and we will learn that the meaning of our lives, from the feeding trough to that gushing side, is eucharistic. In the meantime, let us simply enjoy the silence of this most holy night and allow our hearts to be captivated by the mystery and beauty of the Word-made-infant. Ave Crux, Spes Unica.
Published by Brothers Phil and Ben
Phillip Smith and Benjamin Rossi are members of the Congregation of Holy Cross. They established The Voice of Moreau blog on September 15, 2018. View all posts by Brothers Phil and Ben