“I don’t know what to say, except it’s Christmas and we’re all in misery.”
Ellen Griswold in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.
In the countdown to Christmas, there is an innate desire in many of us to experience the perfect holiday. We imagine being surrounded by loved ones who all get along, in a perfectly decorated home, sharing a beautifully prepared meal and, of course, exchanging plenty of gifts. Gifts that, we hope, will be received as the “perfect present.”
The movies we watch, the commercials we see and the stories we read all permeate this desire for the perfect Christmas. Yet by the end of Advent, many of us feel the weight of seasonal pressures and long for the peace the angels proclaimed that night in Bethlehem when “a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favour rests.” (Luke 2:13-14) However, through the lens of St. Benedict, we can enter more deeply into the mystery of Christmas and allow it to shape our lives not just as we prepare for Advent, but in our everyday lives as well.
Luke writes: “And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” (Luke 2:6–7)
The birth of Jesus is not just a story from long ago; it is a living reality, one that longs to take flesh in us today. The manger is more than a quaint image on a Christmas card; rather, it is a profound symbol of God’s humility. St. Benedict begins his Rule with a call to humility: “The first step of humility is that a man keeps the fear of God before his eyes and never forgets it.”
At Christmas, we witness this ladder of humility in reverse. God does not wait for us to ascend to Him; He descends to us. In the vulnerability of the Christ Child, we see the divine choosing weakness, poverty, and dependence. The manger becomes a throne of grace, where the King of Kings lies wrapped in swaddling cloths. This descent into humility sets the tone for how we are called to live.
In the chaos of the first Christmas, we also find a call to stability. Mary and Joseph were afraid. The Shepherds were afraid, too. However, none of them let those fears control them. Benedict teaches: “Do not be daunted immediately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation.” Christmas echoes this wisdom. God does not shy away from the messiness of human life; He enters into it. Jesus is born not in a palace, but in a stable. Not in comfort, but in chaos. For us, stability means remaining present to the
people and circumstances God has placed in our lives: our families, our communities, our daily responsibilities. Christ is born not in an ideal world, but in the real one.
The gathering at the manger reveals another pillar of Benedictine spirituality: hospitality. Luke tells us that shepherds came to the manger, followed by Magi from distant lands. The first Christmas was a gathering of strangers around Christ. Benedict reminds us: “Let all guests who arrive be received as Christ.” This is not just monastic advice; it is Gospel truth. Every person we meet carries the image of God.
Christmas calls us to radical hospitality: to welcome Christ in the poor, the lonely, the refugee, the neighbour who annoys us. The manger is not only in Bethlehem, it is in the heart of every person we encounter. The reality is that hospitality means being truly present to others, aware of their needs, and responding with grace. It means welcoming not just strangers, but those close to us, again and again, with forgiveness and love.
Finally, in the quiet of Bethlehem, we encounter the gift of silence. Luke writes: “Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2:19) St. Benedict viewed silence as a tool for cultivating humility, self-discipline, and a deeper spiritual life, rather than just a lack of sound. He counselled: “Monks should diligently cultivate silence at all times.” For us, the silence of Bethlehem is not emptiness; it is the silence of awe before the mystery of God-made-man. In our noisy, hurried world, Christmas invites us to cultivate inner stillness. Turn off the noise, step away from the rush, and simply gaze at the Child. In silence, we hear the angels’ song and let the Word dwell richly within us.
In the closing scene of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, Clark Griswold gazes at the Christmas star and realizes the true essence of the season, not bonuses, gifts, turkeys, or trees, but something far deeper. As he tells his children, “See kids, it means something different to everybody. Now I know what it means to me.” His words remind us that the meaning of Christmas is not found in perfection or abundance, but in the quiet recognition of grace breaking into our lives.
Amid the hurried pace of Advent, The Manger and the Rule call us to rediscover that same meaning of Christmas through the Benedictine values of humility, presence, hospitality, and silence. In embracing these virtues, the manger becomes more than a relic of history; it stands as a living sign that God enters the ordinary realities of life, offering peace and transformation.
The Manger and the Rule: A Benedictine Lens on Christmas
Ellen Griswold in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.
In the countdown to Christmas, there is an innate desire in many of us to experience the perfect holiday. We imagine being surrounded by loved ones who all get along, in a perfectly decorated home, sharing a beautifully prepared meal and, of course, exchanging plenty of gifts. Gifts that, we hope, will be received as the “perfect present.”
The movies we watch, the commercials we see and the stories we read all permeate this desire for the perfect Christmas. Yet by the end of Advent, many of us feel the weight of seasonal pressures and long for the peace the angels proclaimed that night in Bethlehem when “a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favour rests.” (Luke 2:13-14) However, through the lens of St. Benedict, we can enter more deeply into the mystery of Christmas and allow it to shape our lives not just as we prepare for Advent, but in our everyday lives as well.
Luke writes: “And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” (Luke 2:6–7)
The birth of Jesus is not just a story from long ago; it is a living reality, one that longs to take flesh in us today. The manger is more than a quaint image on a Christmas card; rather, it is a profound symbol of God’s humility. St. Benedict begins his Rule with a call to humility: “The first step of humility is that a man keeps the fear of God before his eyes and never forgets it.”
At Christmas, we witness this ladder of humility in reverse. God does not wait for us to ascend to Him; He descends to us. In the vulnerability of the Christ Child, we see the divine choosing weakness, poverty, and dependence. The manger becomes a throne of grace, where the King of Kings lies wrapped in swaddling cloths. This descent into humility sets the tone for how we are called to live.
In the chaos of the first Christmas, we also find a call to stability. Mary and Joseph were afraid. The Shepherds were afraid, too. However, none of them let those fears control them. Benedict teaches: “Do not be daunted immediately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation.” Christmas echoes this wisdom. God does not shy away from the messiness of human life; He enters into it. Jesus is born not in a palace, but in a stable. Not in comfort, but in chaos. For us, stability means remaining present to the
people and circumstances God has placed in our lives: our families, our communities, our daily responsibilities. Christ is born not in an ideal world, but in the real one.
The gathering at the manger reveals another pillar of Benedictine spirituality: hospitality. Luke tells us that shepherds came to the manger, followed by Magi from distant lands. The first Christmas was a gathering of strangers around Christ. Benedict reminds us: “Let all guests who arrive be received as Christ.” This is not just monastic advice; it is Gospel truth. Every person we meet carries the image of God.
Christmas calls us to radical hospitality: to welcome Christ in the poor, the lonely, the refugee, the neighbour who annoys us. The manger is not only in Bethlehem, it is in the heart of every person we encounter. The reality is that hospitality means being truly present to others, aware of their needs, and responding with grace. It means welcoming not just strangers, but those close to us, again and again, with forgiveness and love.
Finally, in the quiet of Bethlehem, we encounter the gift of silence. Luke writes: “Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2:19) St. Benedict viewed silence as a tool for cultivating humility, self-discipline, and a deeper spiritual life, rather than just a lack of sound. He counselled: “Monks should diligently cultivate silence at all times.” For us, the silence of Bethlehem is not emptiness; it is the silence of awe before the mystery of God-made-man. In our noisy, hurried world, Christmas invites us to cultivate inner stillness. Turn off the noise, step away from the rush, and simply gaze at the Child. In silence, we hear the angels’ song and let the Word dwell richly within us.
In the closing scene of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, Clark Griswold gazes at the Christmas star and realizes the true essence of the season, not bonuses, gifts, turkeys, or trees, but something far deeper. As he tells his children, “See kids, it means something different to everybody. Now I know what it means to me.” His words remind us that the meaning of Christmas is not found in perfection or abundance, but in the quiet recognition of grace breaking into our lives.
Amid the hurried pace of Advent, The Manger and the Rule call us to rediscover that same meaning of Christmas through the Benedictine values of humility, presence, hospitality, and silence. In embracing these virtues, the manger becomes more than a relic of history; it stands as a living sign that God enters the ordinary realities of life, offering peace and transformation.
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