“Joseph, son of David, don’t be afraid to take Mary, your wife, into your home, for it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her” (Matthew 1, 18-25). “For today, in the city of David a saviour has been born to you who is Christ and Lord”…“Let us go, then, to Bethlehem to see the thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us”…And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart (Luke 2, 1-20).

At Christmas, there are four different gospel readings. At the vigil Mass, we hear from Matthew, at the midnight and dawn Masses, from Luke, while the daytime Mass gives us a reading from John. Together, they give us a kaleidoscope view of the events surrounding the birth of Jesus and their significance for us and our world. They are an invitation to us to do as Mary did, namely to ponder the implications of God’s becoming one with us in the person of Jesus. I suggest that we respond most effectively to this invitation not through theological exploration but rather through reflecting on what happens in our life and in the lives of others when we encounter God in the events and experiences of everyday life.

One of the consequences of the Incarnation (God’s becoming one with humanity in the person of Jesus) is that the divine is mediated to us through the encounters we have with other people, and reflected to us in creation, in the daily events of our lives and in our own feelings and insights. In that context, I share with you the impact of a television programme recently recommended to me. It’s the first of a five-part series entitled Sacred Journeys with Bruce Feiler (all 5 parts can be found on YouTube), and this first part is about the annual pilgrimage to Lourdes of present and former members of defence forces from around the world.

Pilgrims seeking cures for physical illnesses and healing for mind and heart have been drawn to Lourdes for over 160 years since a 14-year old peasant girl, Bernadette Soubirous experienced a series of apparitions of the Blessed Virgin Mary. While more than 5 million pilgrims come to Lourdes annually, one week each year is set aside for present and former military personnel, of all faiths and of none. Thousands of men and women, some with missing limbs, others afflicted with blindness, loss of mobility, facial disfigurement and severe psychological illnesses, including acute post-traumatic stress, come in search of cure or healing. The marriages and families of many of them have undergone all kinds of upheaval and stress as a consequence of the trauma many of these women and men have experienced. Among the pilgrims are practicing Catholics and those whose last time in a church was when they were baptized. There are also sceptics, people of no religion who believe in “a higher power”, and others who simply say that they are open to whatever happens. Two things they have in common are a desire to be cured and a hope that they will be relieved of the memories, nightmares and demons that continue to haunt them. Some are open to being immersed in the freezing water of the Lourdes spring, while others are initially hesitant or even reluctant to venture into the water. In his commentary, Bruce Feiler makes a distinction between the physical nature of a cure and the intangible quality of healing of the mind, heart and spirit. However, what seems to touch the life of every single pilgrim is the love, kindness and care of the volunteers who have come to Lourdes at their own expense to share with the veterans and other pilgrims every aspect of the Lourdes experience.

Not one of the war veterans, on whom this documentary focuses, is cured. But every single one of them testifies to having been healed in one way or another. The darkness, fear, or urge to suicide has been lifted from them. Many have had the experience of being reconciled with soldiers who previously had been bitter enemies.

Leaving behind something we know and dislike about ourselves and opening ourselves to discover something new within is the kind of miracle available to us all. For most of us, it is through experiencing love that such miracles are generated.

In 1858, something happened to Bernadette Soubirous in Lourdes that changed the direction of her life. She had a profound experience of love, which she attributed to the Blessed Virgin Mary. In that same place, just a few years ago, a group of broken war veterans, women and men, had a life-changing experience of love which drew them out of fear, hopelessness and self-pity, and gave them back a sense of meaning and purpose for their lives. Similarly, more than 2000 years ago something extraordinary happened in the obscure town of Bethlehem when the birth of a child let loose the love of God in our world. Those who witnessed the events surrounding that birth of Jesus tried to capture them in story, using all kinds of embellishments, images and story-telling devices, and, eventually, their stories were written down. The love that was let loose then has found all kinds of expression through more than twenty centuries. It’s the same contagious love that touched the life of a 14-year-old girl in Lourdes in 1858 and which has impacted on the lives of countless pilgrims, and inspired donors to finance the travel of war veterans and volunteers to support them, in the hope that they, too, will experience something of that same love.

At Christmas we gather to celebrate the fact that the healing love of God has been let loose in our world through the birth of Jesus Christ, and has impacted on our lives too.

In the gospel reading for the Christmas Dawn Mass, we hear how Mary pondered on everything that happened through her pregnancy and in the events that accompanied the birth of her son. In the same way, we are invited to reflect on how the intervention of God in the events we remember and celebrate at Christmas reverberates to transform our everyday lives. We are challenged to block out the static of the canned music and bustle of our shopping centres, and reflect on the mystery of the compassion and love of God that were born in a dirty, smelly and cold cave in Bethlehem.

Well might we ask ourselves: What kind of God would do this? What kind of God would touch the lives of veterans in Lourdes? What kind of God would continue to be present to us in the struggles, disappointments and joys of our own day-to-day lives?

May this Christmas be a time of blessing and peace of mind and heart for you and all those close to you and for all to whom you reach out in kindness, love and compassion.