The Rockefeller Plaza Christmas Tree in New York City was lit on Wednesday, November 29. It is a 75 foot Norway Spruce from State College, Pennsylvania. One of the late-night comedians said that some people complained it was still November when the tree was set up and that Christmas was a month away. But then the funny guy shouted, "But we need some good news." Indeed!
This tree is recognized all around the world, with its 550 pound crystal star and its escort of golden, trumpeter angels. That's all good news. And it's still called the Christmas tree. That's more good news. And over half a million people pass it everyday until the first week in January. And the tree will be milled and the lumber will be used to build houses for habitat for humanity. And the 45,000 lights are powered by solar panels. How wonderful! All good news.
Here's how the tree looked in the 1950's when my parents took us into the city one windy night. I remember the giant, colored ornaments being blown around. It was thrilling then; it's thrilling still. Walking near it, with St. Patrick's Cathedral all cleaned up and repaired across the street - you feel Good News.
But it's Advent, when Mary and her Child come into view to share their own Good News. And while contemplating the bright icon below, know this: I was in my mother's womb; I was in my mother's arms when God first saw me and loved me and called me by my name. I rested securely in that Divine Knowledge, as the Infant Christ rests securely in his Mother's arms.
He holds an orb in his left hand - God is knocking on the door of my heart, your heart, the heart of the world. The Mother of God and her Son look directly into our eyes; they know us and accept us in our imperfections. They invite us to step into the light surrounding them and which they share: an illumined mind; an illumined heart. Don't we need the icon and its good news in this rancourous nation of ours?
And last week Pope Francis went to Myanmar where he was told to be diplomatic and not to dare mention the word Rohingya, the name of the minority Muslim communities being burned out, shot, raped, robbed and who have fled to Bangladesh. And so the Pope, following a principle of diplomacy not to insult one's host, didn't say the forbidden word. But when he arrived in Bangladesh and entered the Rohingya refugee camp, he extended his hands to them, blessed them, promised them his heart and voice, called them by their name and wept with them. No one else does these things. That's good news.
