Perhaps you have read the story of the Little Prince. Simple enough to be enjoyed by children yet profound enough to be appreciated by adults, this delightful tale is about an alien from another planet, known as the little prince, who finds himself stranded here on earth.
At first, the little prince is lost and confused. One day he meets a fox who helps him. Eventually a close friendship emerges between them. At one point, the fox and the little prince must go their separate ways. Before they do, the fox insists that they set an exact time for their next meeting, so they agree upon 4:00 on a certain day. Once they are done, the fox observes, “If you come at 4:00 in the afternoon, then at 3:00 I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At 4:00 I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you.”
The fourth Sunday of Advent is like that. We find ourselves waiting in anticipation of Christmas and the coming of another little prince, one whom we call the prince of peace. Knowing that his birth is near, we ought to be happy as the fox, knowing that this prince is coming into our lives!
Hopefully on the eve of Christmas, our hearts are ready and we are filled with the same joy we witness in the fox and in the gospel, where we find Elizabeth telling Mary, “the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy.” What John experienced was the magnetic presence of his cousin, Jesus.
Can the same be said for us? Many people have felt the joy John experienced in his mother’s womb. Perhaps you have too. For me, one such profound moment happened 12 years ago when I celebrated Mass with my sister and our 86 year old aunt. I had sent Ruth a card telling her that we were coming to visit her before Christmas. When we arrived, we could tell that she had been eagerly waiting for us.
In her tiny neat apartment, we sat around a TV tray. The Mass was very low key; no music, nothing fancy, but when we were done, my aunt was overwhelmed. Because she was my godmother, the moment was deeply moving for both of us. As her godson, I had fulfilled my dream to celebrate the Mass in her presence.
As my sister and I drove back to Sacramento from Yuba City, we agreed that this had been the best visit we ever had with Aunt Ruth. Usually we would find her despondent and our visits would be short. She was a widow who had outlived all her siblings and had no children. Her nieces and nephews were her only family and few of them lived nearby. This time, because she knew we were coming, Ruth was in great spirits and our visit lasted all afternoon. She even called that evening to again thank us for coming to see her.
Because of her frail health, our aunt had not been to church in years, so the visit was indeed special for her. The joy she radiated made the trip so worthwhile for me. I left her, feeling that she had been transformed and uplifted. I could not have given her a better Christmas present.
On the eve of that first Christmas, the world for Elizabeth, Mary, and John was transformed; their lives were filled with joy. The same could be true for us. Both Christmas and the Eucharist have the potential to truly fill us with joy.
While we may never encounter Jesus in this lifetime with the same intense joy they did, we certainly can be open to the possibility, awaiting the coming of our prince with the same eagerness that the fox did as he looked forward to the coming of his friend.
Speaking from my own experience, I know a fair number of us take our relationship with Jesus too much for granted, passing up many opportunities to be with him in prayer because we have other so-called priorities in our lives. When we do, we become the losers, denying ourselves the chance to be transformed by the gift of God’s presence in both scripture and the Eucharist because we are more captivated by other pursuits instead. A friend recently wrote me, “The happiest people don’t have the best of everything. They just make the best of everything.”
Thomas Aquinas once said, “No man truly has joy unless he lives in love.” That is the example Mary sets in the gospel, traveling to be with her cousin in spite of whatever hardship such a trip posed. She knew well that joy is found in serving others. Caring for and about others will provide you with more joy than anything you’ll find under the tree.
For countless generations, God has kept his promise to lead his people to the joy of his kingdom through good times and bad and God does so today, offering us the most precious gift he can, his prince of peace. Blessed are they who, like Mary, have trusted that God’s word would be fulfilled. For them peace and joy became quite real. For those whose hearts are ready, Christmas ought to be a season of light that will dispel the darkness of their world and a time of joy that will transform their lives.
Like the fox in the story of the Little Prince, may we eagerly greet another little prince, namely, our prince of peace, Jesus of Nazareth with hearts that are ready.