When I was young, I learned that the house wren, a common bird around our yards and gardens, was willing and likely to nest in almost any available cavity.  To test that new knowledge, one spring I placed an old coffee can with a hole cut in the lid in our apple tree, and sure enough, the wrens moved in and raised a brood.  One creature’s refuse is another creature’s nest.

When God came among us in the flesh, in Jesus, he didn’t get much of a welcome.  The most we could muster was a manger, a feeding trough, and a little bit of straw.  We never got much better at welcoming him while he was here during his earthly life—we gave him a cross to hang on and a borrowed tomb.  No wonder that he himself said:  “Foxes have dens, and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” (Mt 8:20)

The fact is that Jesus, like the little wren, will make a place and bring life even in the midst of our junk and wretched refuse, if we will make an opening for him.  One of the lessons of Christmas is that the Lord will enter into the place we make room for him, even if it is a stinking stable behind the inn of our heart.

This Advent, we can do our best to make some space, to create an opening in our hearts and lives.  We can do that through renewed efforts at Mass and at prayer, by celebrating Reconciliation, by attending to those seeking help and shelter.  If we offer him even our limited confines and our bits and pieces of straw, we can become the place of his birth.

Sincerely,

Fr. Paul