Families can be very difficult things to negotiate. This is true not only of our families of origin, the current family of which we are a part, the family of our Church, our society, and our global family as well. Everything human can be found in family stories. Those stories speak of wonderful life-giving successes as well as painful spirit-robbing abuses. Our greatest joys and our greatest wounds are usually connected with the experience of family. Our needs, experiences, and unresolved baggage often color what we bring to our familiar relationships. They contribute to our level of defensiveness, how guarded and protected we become, and what prejudices we believe.

Continuing our journey through Advent, we’ll look at some of the tangible items we use to help enrich our experience throughout the season.

Let’s begin with the Christmas Crèche, or Nativity scene. The creation of the crèche is attributed to St. Francis of Assisi in 1223. At the time, St. Francis was a deacon and was visiting a small town to celebrate Christmas. The chapel where Mass was to be held was too small to hold all of the people in the town, so he wanted to create a scene outside as a visual tool to help the people celebrate the birth of Christ. In order to avoid accusations of making a mockery of the event or making too light of it, St. Francis went to Pope Honorius III to obtain approval from the head of the Church for his plan, which the Pope gave.

We’ve all heard the adage, “Laughter is the best medicine.” In many ways, it really is. When was the last time you really laughed? The gift of imagination allows us to see possible things that are yet to be. Imagine a world filled with laughter. We take life too seriously sometimes. Fear, uncertainty, pressure, negativity, disappointment, and myriad other human experiences can rob us of the joy needed for laughter. God never promised us an easy road, and we do have to take the course of our lives seriously. However, there is a balance to be sought and a possible joy that can be brought even to the darkest and most challenging of encounters.

St. Ambrose shares some wisdom on our need to prepare the way and open the door for Christ. “You see that when the Word of God knocks hardest on your door, it is when his hair is wet with the dew of the night. In fact, he chooses to visit those who are in tribulation and trial, lest one of them be overwhelmed by distress. So, his head is covered with dew, with drops, when his body is laboring hard. It is important to keep watch so that when the Bridegroom comes, he is not shut out. If you are asleep and your heart is not keeping watch, he will go away without knocking; but if your heart is alert for his coming, he knocks and asks for the door to be opened to him.” When life gets overwhelming and difficult and we find ourselves feeling a bit downhearted and miserable, these words can bring great comfort.

Staying awake can often be a challenge, especially when we are exhausted. Life’s demands have a way of zapping every last bit of energy out of us. When we are tired it affects us not only physically, but psychologically and spiritually as well. All of our senses are dulled and diminished. We can overlook details, become disinterested, lethargic and apathetic, and detached. Getting sufficient physical rest only helps so much. We need to be rejuvenated, refreshed, and reenergized in other ways. If we are psychologically exhausted, we need to understand what is draining our emotions and taxing our relationships. If we are spiritually tired, we need to find the necessary “shot in the arm” to put us back in touch with God. Unfortunately, exhaustion is seldom limited to just one part of who we are. When we lack energy and zeal it is usually the case that everything suffers. We not only are affected physically, but psychologically and spiritually as well. In short, when we run out of gas the engine stops.

We often come to life expecting all of the pieces of the puzzle to nicely fit together. We want and expect harmony, order, and fairness, the achievement of rewards for good behavior, good health, and happiness. We can more easily accept death when it comes naturally after a good long life, but have a real difficulty comprehending the meaning of it all when it is cut short. Willing to put in a good measure of effort, we desire positive results. When things go wrong and life gets hurtful, unjust, and downright ugly, we become unsettled and can quickly fall into despair. This is especially true if we are people of faith who believe in a God who sees things on our terms and works in favor of our life agenda. What happens to our faith when we find ourselves sitting in a mess?

“And then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in the clouds’ with great power and glory.” Take a moment to ponder these words from today’s Gospel. How does this image make you feel? For people to truly understand the significance of this message, something profound has to happen within. If we find ourselves reacting with a sense of dread or fear, we have to step back and ask why. Our answer will reveal a great deal about our relationship with God. It’s hard to fall in love with a God of whom we are afraid. God does not want us to be afraid. Nor does He want us to align our wills to His in order to avoid some kind of horrendous eternal consequence. That sounds like too much of a superficial power play on the part of God who continues to seek out His children in love.

On December 10, 1979, a very petite holy woman known as Mother Teresa of Calcutta spoke these words in her Nobel Peace Prize Acceptance Speech, “But I am sure in the families and many of our homes, maybe we are not hungry for a piece of bread, but maybe there is somebody there in the family who is unwanted, unloved, uncared, forgotten, there isn’t love. Love begins at home. And love to be true has to hurt. I never forget a little child who taught me a very beautiful lesson. They heard in Calcutta, the children, that Mother Teresa had no sugar for her children, and this little one, Hindu boy four years old, he went home and he told his parents: I will not eat sugar for three days, I will give my sugar to Mother Teresa. How much a little child can give. After three days they brought into our house, and there was this little one who could scarcely pronounce my name, he loved with great love, he loved until it hurt. And this is what I bring before you, to love one another until it hurts, but don’t forget that there are many children, many children, many men and women who haven’t got what you have. And remember to love them until it hurts.”