Christmas: Being Loved, Just As We Are
by Fr. Rich Andre, C.S.P.
December 25, 2023

Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily on Christmas Eve on December 24, 2023 at the Paulist Center in Boston, MA. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Isaiah 9:1-6; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; and Luke 2:1-14.

Welcome, welcome! Welcome to our regular members, welcome to those who are back in town for the holidays, welcome to those traveling, and an especially warm welcome to those who have joined us at the request of family members. You all help make this celebration all that it is meant to be, as evidenced by those who gathered in the stable during the first Christmas – humble Jewish shepherds and magnificent Persian astrologers. Once again, welcome!

But of course, tonight, we welcome someone else into our presence. Tonight, we celebrate that God has come among us. This is the same God who walked with us in the cool of evening in the garden of Eden, the God born in a stable in the Middle East, the God present tonight in this very chapel, the God who will never leave us alone. Let us take a moment to celebrate that!


One year, the great preacher William Sloane Coffin, Jr. was scheduled to give the Christmas Eve sermon at the prestigious Riverside Church in New York City. Before his sermon, the children of the church performed the annual Christmas pageant. The boy playing the innkeeper delivered his one and only line perfectly: “There’s no room at the inn.” But as the children playing Mary and Joseph began to walk away dejectedly, the boy suddenly shouted after them, “Wait! You can stay at my house!” Knowing that he could not outdo what had just happened, William Sloane Coffin, Jr. approached the pulpit without his notes, and simply said, “Amen.” More than one person has called it “the greatest sermon Bill Coffin never preached.”

In Knoxville, TN, they still tell the story of the year the Christmas pageant went a little awry at St. John XXIII Parish. One little boy was so excited that he was going to play a king. Near the end of the pageant, when he suddenly realized that the character he was playing – King Herod – wasn’t supposed to go worship the baby Jesus, he got very upset. So, that year, King Herod went to the manger, too!

[To the children:] To the children here tonight ages 3 to 8, I am in awe of you. You understand the essence of Christmas a lot better than many adults. If you’ve been raised in a loving family, you probably know, deep down inside, that you are loved, just as you are. Yes, some of you will be involved in temper tantrums, messes, sugar rushes, and squabbles over the next few days, but my experience is that most 3-to-8-year-olds know that they are loved. You know that you are loved by your parents. You love yourself. You know that you are loved by God.

[Back to everyone:] From hearing confessions for the last twelve years, I get the impression that by the time we reach the age of thirteen, almost none of us still believe that we are loved just as we are. We think that our parents are clueless and inept. We are plagued by low self-esteem. We believe that God will only love us if we are absolutely perfect.

I think that the main task of Christian discipleship after age 13 is to gradually find our way back to the spirituality we had when we were 3 to 8 years old. As Isaiah foretold, the calf and the young lion will both be guided by a little child. Jesus himself said, “Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me.” 

In some ways, the miracle of Christmas isn’t that God was born to us as a vulnerable child. The true miracle is that when that child grew up, he knew that, deep down inside, he was loved by his heavenly Father, just as he was. And he proclaimed that each of us is loved by God, just as we are.

God did not wait for the world to be perfect before God sent Jesus to be born among us. God did not wait for us to be perfect before planting the Holy Spirit deep within us. We do not have to be perfect before we can grow closer to Jesus Christ. As we say at every Mass before receiving Christ in the Eucharist, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” (Paulist Fr. Don Andrie says, “I imagine God up in heaven, shouting, ‘Word! Word! Word!’”)

As the founder of the Paulists Fathers, Isaac Hecker, once wrote, “If Christ is to be to us a savior, we must find him here, now, and where we are, in this age of ours also; otherwise he is no Christ, no Savior, no Immanuel, no ‘God with us.’”1

I guess those are pretty good words to live by, since the US Conference of Catholic Bishops forwarded Hecker’s cause for canonization to the Vatican last month! Let me read Hecker’s words again: “If Christ is to be to us a savior, we must find him here, now, and where we are, in this age of ours also; otherwise he is no Christ, no Savior, no Immanuel, no ‘God with us.’”

Perhaps you’re struggling to find Christ here, now, and where you are. Perhaps, despite Isaiah’s prophecy, you feel that you’re still walking in darkness, dwelling in the land of gloom, unable to see the great light. Many people in the Paulist Center Community would be honored to journey with you, no matter how sad you may feel. You can reach out not only to any of us on the pastoral staff — Rick, Patty, Susan, Norm, or Gus — but also to any of our dozens of members here who are pastoral theologians, psychologists, counselors, social workers, or spiritual directors. We would be glad to brainstorm with you about how to nurture a personal, intimate relationship with our Savior Jesus Christ. Maybe we can help you find a more satisfying way to pray. Perhaps we can connect you with a new group of friends. Maybe there’s a ministry that will help you see the face of Jesus in others. 

Each of us is loved by God, just as we are. And even if you’re not a regular church-goer, you are always welcome at the Paulist Center, just as you are. If there’s no room at another inn, you can always worship the newborn king with us. And to conclude with the sermon that the great William Sloan Coffin, Jr. never preached, let us together say: Amen!