As the Church celebrates the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph within the celebration of the Christmas Octave, we find ourselves coming to the conclusion of the Jubilee Year of Hope.  It has certainly been an eventful year in the Church as we watched our beloved Holy Father, Pope Francis, pass away on Easter Monday.  In the midst of our sorrow, though, we began to hope, looking forward to how the Lord would provide for His Church with a successor.  To take St. Paul’s words on hope slightly out of context, our hope as Americans was not disappointed as we witnessed the election of one of our own to be the new pope, Pope Leo XIV.

Leading up to that surprise, the standard belief was that no American would likely ever be elected to be the pope.  But our belief was proved wrong, and as I have reflected on that, it offers us an invitation to examine other beliefs that we might have about what we think might be impossible, or at least highly unlikely.  We may believe things about ourselves, about others, about the Church, about our country, and about our world that we are convinced will always be true.  But perhaps an experience like the election of an American pope will give us pause and challenge us to re-evaluate our beliefs.

When Mary was visited by the Archangel Gabriel at the Annunciation, as an additional verification that what he said about her becoming the Mother of God was indeed possible, he shared with her that her cousin, Elizabeth, in her old age had conceived a son, and that it was already “the sixth month for her who was called barren.” (Luke 1:36) Then the angel proclaimed these powerful words: “For with God, nothing will be impossible.” (Luke 1:37)

This is not meant to be read that anything we want to happen will happen.  Rather, this line serves as a reminder that when we factor God into any problem, question, or concern that we face in life, no matter how unbelievable, how desperate, or how impossible the situation may seem, with God, nothing will be impossible.  No suffering will be impossible to bear when it is born with God.  Not fear can paralyze us when we face it with God.  No desire for conversion, personally, or in another, is wasted when it is expressed with God.  

When we live with hope, we believe that nothing we face in life will be impossible when we lean into it with God.  As Pope Benedict wrote early on in Spe salvi, his encyclical on Christian hope: “The one who has hope lives differently; the one who hopes has been granted the gift of a new life.” (SS 2)

Coming to the end of this Jubilee Year of Hope, we are confronted with some important questions: Are we ready to embrace this hope and so live differently?  Are we ready to hope in the promise that nothing will be impossible with God?  With faith, it is indeed possible for us to live this new life of hope, because hope Himself has been born for us.

Today’s Gospel for Mass on the feast of the Holy Family quotes the prophet Hosea: “Out of Egypt I called my son.” Because this weekend is the celebration of the Holy Family and not a reflection on Matthew’s use of Old Testament quotations, that line probably won’t get much air time in the homilies. Because of that, I want to reflect on it here, and really, the whole of Hosea 11, the chapter that line comes from. 

During the several silent retreats that I went on as a part of my seminary formation, Hosea 11 was an often-used scripture passage assigned to me by my spiritual directors. In it, the prophet speaks in the person of God – or God speaks through the mouth and pen of the prophet – about the “person” of Israel, the whole people. “Israel” becomes the name of the whole people seen as a single person growing up from childhood to adulthood – a common way of speaking about the people of Israel throughout the scriptures. We even see this more maturely formulated in St. Paul’s consideration of the Body of Christ, the Church, though the unity of the Body of Christ is even more profound than the unity of the people of Israel. 

Still, the Lord speaks of his mercy toward the people of Israel in this passage. He has called his child, Israel, out of Egypt, and they saw his wonders. They knew his might, but they still turned away from him, repeatedly. This caused God’s wrath to flare up, but in his love for Israel, he did not destroy them. Instead, he continued to draw them to himself, to heal them. We see in this passage one of those places even in the Old Testament that the merciful and Fatherly love of God is displayed in full force. 

This passage is well-worth reading in the season of Christmas as well. We read in the letter of St. Paul to the Romans 5:8, “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” We could take it back a step and recognize that while we were still sinners, the Word chose to become flesh for us in order to die for us. Since the fall of man in the Garden of Eden, God has continued to call his people back to himself, calling the patriarchs, Moses, the Kings, and the Prophets. He made covenants with them and people did draw near him. Without fail, though, his people continued, time and again, to turn away from him.

He did not abandon his people. Out of Egypt he called his son, and he only continues to do so. Back in Hosea 11, the Lord cries out in anguish over his rebellious child, “How could I give you up, O Ephraim!” (another name for Israel). The Lord continues after several more statements of that sort, “My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; … I will not come in wrath.” Truly, centuries later, God did not come in wrath. He did not abandon his people or give them up. He did not execute his fierce anger by destroying them. Instead, he gave vent to that anger by entering our human condition and destroying the cause of our downfall, sin, and its consequence, death. 

Praise be Jesus Christ for the redemption wrought through his incarnation. What a work of grace! What a work of the beauty of the heart of God! What a powerful testament to the grandeur of God’s mercy! Jesus entered the “Egypt” of the human condition to bring us all out of that place of slavery. May we never stray from his loving heart. He draws us by that love. Jesus, draw me to the Father. Amen.