Christmas Children’s Homily – 2021
The wonderful story of Christmas that we have just told never seems to tire of telling. It is a great story – a story through which we are brought to what is most important about life: the celebration of new life, the wonder at how God’s life comes into the world, the importance of two people, Mary and Joseph, placing their trust in God’s promises
It’s a story which gives rise to many other stories, too, that seek to come to the meaning of what we celebrate this evening. Let me tell you one of these stories from far away Russia.
It was the night the Christ-Child came to Bethlehem. In a country far away from Him, an old, old woman named Babouscka sat in her snug little house by her warm fire. As in Europe at the moment, the wind was drifting the snow outside and howling down the chimney, but it only made Babouscka’s fire burn more brightly.
“How glad I am that I may stay indoors,” said Babouscka, holding her hands out to the bright blaze. But suddenly she heard a loud knock at her door. She opened it and her candle shone on three old men standing outside in the snow. Their beards were as white as the snow, and so long that they reached the ground. Their eyes shone kindly in the light of Babouscka’s candle, and their arms were full of precious things–boxes of jewels, and sweet-smelling oils, and ointments.
“We have travelled far, Babouscka,” they said, “and we stop to tell you of the Baby Prince born this night in Bethlehem. He comes to rule the world and teach all people to be loving and true. We carry Him gifts. Come with us, Babouscka.”
But Babouscka looked at the drifting snow, and then inside at her cozy room and the crackling fire. “It is too late for me to go with you, good sirs,” she said, “the weather is too cold.” She went inside again and shut the door, and the old men journeyed on to Bethlehem without her. But as Babouscka sat by her fire, rocking, she began to think about the Little Christ-Child, for she loved all babies.
“To-morrow I will go to find Him,” she said; “to-morrow, when it is light, and I will carry Him some toys.”
So when it was morning Babouscka put on her long cloak and took her staff, and filled her basket with the pretty things a baby would like–gold balls, and wooden toys, and strings of silver cobwebs—and she set out to find the Christ-Child. But Babouscka had forgotten to ask the three old men the road to Bethlehem, and they travelled so far through the night that she could not overtake them. Up and down the road she hurried, through woods and fields and towns, saying to whomsoever she met: “I go to find the Christ-Child. Where does He lie? I bring some pretty toys for His sake.” But no one could tell her the way to go, and they all said: “Farther on, Babouscka, farther on.” So she travelled on and on and on for years and years–but she never found the little Christ-Child.
They say that old Babouscka is travelling still, looking for Him. When it comes Christmas Eve, and the children are lying fast asleep, Babouscka comes softly through the towns, wrapped in her long cloak and carrying her basket on her arm. With her staff she raps gently at the doors and goes inside and holds her candle close to the little children’s faces.
“Is He here?” she asks. “Is the little Christ-Child here?” And then she turns sorrowfully away again, crying: “Farther on, farther on!” But before she leaves she takes a toy from her basket and lays it beside the pillow for a Christmas gift. “For His sake,” she says softly, and then hurries on through the years and forever in search of the little Christ-Child.
Babouscka’s journey seems never to end. However, I wonder if each time Babouscka leaves a gift with someone she has in fact actually found the Christ Child. For the life of God is born in our world each time we give of ourselves to others, each time we offer one another kindness, every time we act in a loving way and not only to those we know but also especially when we act with a generous heart to those we do not know.
We have been waiting for the birth of Jesus in this time leading up to Christmas. We have been looking for the way in which he comes to us.
We find him in the way that we search for him. If we search for him, like Babouscka, giving ourselves as gifts to one another along the way, then we find him. And he finds us.