As the year 2024 comes to an end, my heart is filled with gratitude. Six months ago, when I told the editor of The Catholic Virginian that I would be retiring In Light of Faith at the end of the year, I knew it was the right time.
I’ve been privileged to write this column – which began under the title Living Jubilee – for 25 years. So it seems fitting that as the Church opens the door to another Year of Jubilee, the time is right. And what better time than the month of December, when we celebrate the birth of the Word of God?
These days, when I gaze upon the infant-God lying in a manger, I’m reminded of a story of a conversation between a Christian and a nonbeliever. One day, the nonbeliever asked the Christian, “But who is this God that you can speak of the place where he was born and the place where he died?”
Responding to the man’s query, the Christian slowly reached into his pocket and drew out a small wooden image of the infant Christ nestled in the arms of his mother. The Christian pointed to the infant and said, “There! That is God.” The nonbeliever looked at the man in horror and exclaimed, “A baby? That’s it? Your God is a baby?”
Should not God’s self-revelation as an infant cause a similar response in our hearts? Or have we grown so accustomed to images of God wrapped in swaddling clothes that the words of the prophet, “Who would believe what we have heard?” (Is 53:1) no longer convict us?
Has the story of Christ’s birth been told and retold so often that it no longer causes us to fall on our knees like the shepherds who were the first to hear the Good News? And sadly, could it be that holiday trappings of tinsel and merriment have blinded us to the humility of God that was on display in a borrowed cave in Bethlehem?
On the holiest of nights, there were no royal trappings to identify the Holy Family’s royal lineage. In lieu of a gilded cradle stood an animal trough, serving as a makeshift bed for the newly arrived Prince of Peace. In a world that bows to honor and privilege, the infant-God’s dwelling place should scandalize Christians no less than the cross upon which Jesus died. Amid the celebratory atmosphere of Christmas, let’s not lose sight of the truth that God became like us so that we can become like him.
As another year fades into memory, may we use these remaining days to thank God for the graces received, ask pardon for those ignored, and resolve to live the Year of Jubilee mindful of the presence of God. For me, writing is one way I become consciously aware of God at work in my life, so yes, I will miss these regular missives, but that, too, is part of the journey.
Over the years, I’m reminded that people come and go. During my time with The Catholic Virginian, I’ve had the privilege of serving under three bishops and four editors, and have heard from people across the diocese.
I may be retiring In Light of Faith, but with my third book slated to be released in 2025, a spiritual direction practice, retreats and speaking engagements that extend well into next year, I ask for your prayers as you shall remain in mine. Together, we can take heart knowing that nothing “will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom 8:39), neither distance, nor age, not even death.
Therefore, let us enter the Year of Jubilee with a song on our lips, hope in our heart, and a skip in our step, if not physically, at least spiritually. And may we be inspired to celebrate all throughout the year, not only the sacred seasons, by praising God and sharing our gifts, because every day is a day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad!
Barbara Hughes is an award-winning author, retreat facilitator and spiritual guide. She lives in Virginia Beach and can be reached at [email protected].