Holding the Baby Who Holds Us

Taking a newborn baby out of a car seat is one of the most nerve wracking activities on the face of this green earth. You unbuckle the sometimes bafflingly complex mechanism, gently pull each of baby's arms out from under its strap. You slide a hand under baby's head, the other under his tiny little bottom, and gently lift. The baby feels surprisingly heavy in your hands, given how little he actually weighs. He is utterly and completely relaxed - weak and vulnerable - and you have every bit of him in your hands. You quickly bring him right to you, resting his small, warm, helpless body against yours.

And you breathe.

You hold that baby so close. You press your lips to his soft cheek ever so softly. You wrap his little hand around just the tip of one of your fingers. You bend your head low over his, whispering sweet nothings to him as you gently rock him.

All of your being wants to protect, care for, and love this sweet creature. He is completely vulnerable and helpless, entirely dependent on others for all comforts, and even for basic survival. In spite of the huge responsibility, this great task of caring for him - for however long or in whatever capacity it might be - there is always that deep peace.

You hold that baby and your heart melts. You melt. Your world slows down and reorients to revolve around this seven pound being, this seven pound creature made in the image of your great God. Everything, quite suddenly, quite gently and subtly, so you aren't even aware of the change, is all going to be ok.

You're going to be ok.

You hold that baby close - that screaming baby, sleeping baby, cooing baby - and all that matters is love.

Even in the tired moments, the frazzled moments, the beyond exhaustion moments, it's all still solidly, steadily, surely a moment of love - by Love for Love.

A long time ago - yet not so long ago - there was a young wife, far from home, who had a baby boy in a stable. Through her free and beautiful and peaceful fiat, we were given a Savior. And how did God choose to save us? Not through a thunder clap and lightning flash, appearing in majesty. No, He came as a baby born of a spotless virgin mother.

Kneel at the foot of that manger. Scoop that baby right up to you and hold Him.

And breathe.

Let that peace take hold of your heart.

Let your heart melt as you hold Him close.

Hold that vulnerable, dependent God-made-man. Smell his little head. Kiss his soft cheek. Count his fingers. Marvel at his perfect little fingernails.

Hold that baby. That peace, that calm, that joy beyond words?

Let that hold you.

Let Him hold you.

That baby bundled in your arms - His human nature veiling the majesty of His Divine Personhood - is holding you.

He's holding you: your fears, your hopes, your loves, your sins, all of you. And as you whisper how much you love Him, He whispers back - I love you more.

The God who holds it all in His hands came down and let Himself be held in our hands.

The Creator in the hands of the created. The Holder of Everything being held by a small someone.

He came back for you. He is your Prince Charming, riding in quietly and gently, to steal you away to your perfect Happily Forever After. He did it all for love... He did it all for you.

And He entered the scene as a baby boy. A baby born to save the world.

Scoop Him up, hold Him close, let your heart melt, still & quiet.

It's all going to be ok.

You're going to be ok.

He came down to get you.

He loved you into being. And when you fell? He came down to scoop you up. To hold you close. To love you boundlessly.

To give you peace beyond measure.

Be still and know that He's God... and He's got this. He's got you.

He's here to hold you. And He's here to stay.  

You're going to be ok.

"Holier Than Thou"

This article brought this subject to my attention this morning. The subject, however, does not have a limited audience. It's a lesson that has to be learned throughout the world. It's a lesson that has to be learned by every single person.

The election of Pope Francis brought about many, many reactions. Some were pretty extreme. The extreme ones involved kicking and screaming. At one extreme, people were screaming about His Holiness being "too holy." At the other extreme, people were screaming about His Holiness being "not holy enough."

Whoa.

In reply to the first, one has to give them a little bit of slack. The media's portrayal of the pope is never very kind. The image presented is a "holier than thou" image. There are pictures of the pope praying and quotes from the pope, which, out of context, sound judgmental and harsh.

But this Pope is not a "holier than thou" man.

Exhibit A: In the first minutes of his papacy, before extending his blessing over the world, he asked for our blessing, bowing his head to receive it.

Exhibit B: This morning, after praying before an icon of our Blessed Mother, he told the confessors at the church to "be merciful, the souls of the faithful need your mercy."

He hasn't been pope for 24 hours and he has shown to us the importance of humility and mercy.

But how do we respond to those who accuse Pope Francis of not being holy enough?

Dare we point to the same examples?

Holiness is not praying 15 decades of the rosary a day. It is not adhering to only the 1962 missal. It is not about how long you can kneel in front of the Blessed Sacrament. It is not how well you can (carefully and haltingly) explain a little bit about the mystery of the Trinity.

Holiness is about intention. 

Now, before all of my more traditional readers wig out and declare me a relativist heretic, let me explain.

I do not mean that you can do whatever you want as long as it is done with the right intentions. What I do mean to do is echo Christ, who says, "Not every one who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?' And then will I declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from me, you evildoers.' (Matthew 7: 21-23)

Let's reflect for a moment on what doing God's will looks like. Christ says blatantly that it's not about doing stuff. Expelling demons? Doesn't do it. Mighty works? Nope. What did Jesus do? Jesus is Love Incarnate.

He loved with humility.

He scolded the Scribes and Pharisees who militantly followed the letter of the law. He rescued the woman who was going to be stoned to death for adultery. He ate with tax collectors. He did all things with humility and love.

And no matter how many times I have heard people accuse Catholics of being "holier than thou," I have never once heard anyone say that of Jesus.

No matter the level of your devotion, you will probably be "more pious" than someone else in the world. But you should never assume that you are more or less holy than any other person.

How do we convey that? By being ever-humble and ever-merciful. Nothing says "non-judgmental" like showing a little mercy. That's what Jesus did. Remember: we can judge the morality of an ACTION. But we can never, EVER judge the morality of the PERSON doing the action. Ever.

Whatever you do, do it with a humble heart. Love everyone. Everyone. No more hate talk. No more condescension. Go ahead with your devotions. Pray. Fast. Give. But do not, under any circumstances, judge another person.