Christmas Greetings from India
When we face our own times of drought, let us remember that it is in the low places that grace flows most freely. Just as Job found God in his ashes and the shepherds found Him in a manger, so too can we find Him in the midst of our struggles.
Dear Friends and Benefactors,
In the quiet moments of life, when the noise fades and the world’s commotion is hushed, we often find ourselves face-to-face with a profound truth: we have been given so much, yet we often fail to see it. Our lives, especially in modern times, overflow with comforts unimaginable to those who came before us. And yet, how easily do we let small inconveniences—the wrong coffee order, an overcooked meal, a delayed package—become the source of our complaints?
It is a uniquely human paradox: the more we have, the less we seem to appreciate.
This blindness to our blessings often grows in times of ease, while it is in moments of loss or hardship that our hearts awaken to the treasures we had all along. This truth is timeless, and perhaps no story illustrates it better than the life of Job.
Job was a man of great prosperity, surrounded by blessings. But when those blessings were stripped away—his wealth, his family, even his health—he was thrust into the kind of suffering that would break most men. But amidst the ashes of his grief, Job said something extraordinary: “The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” His words remind us that grace is not dependent on abundance but flows most freely when we are laid bare, with nothing to cling to but God Himself.
The lessons of Job are not confined to the ancient world. Today, many of us face our own droughts: the slavery of addiction, the strain of a broken marriage, the loss of employment, the heartbreak of a child’s rebellion. These are not merely hardships; they are invitations for us to fall to our knees. Like Job, we are called to see that it is in times of greatest deprivation that God’s power works most deeply, transforming our pain into heavenly merit.
This sacred transformation is nowhere more evident than in the story of Bethlehem.
Picture the stable: a place of poverty, where nature offered very little. A hard floor, the smell of dung, the chill of the air. Yet from this humble scene, grace overflowed. The King of Kings chose to be born not in a palace, but in a shelter for the homeless, teaching us that God does not dwell in the grandeur of the world but in the simplicity of a willing heart.
The crib at Bethlehem mirrors the rooms of an orphanage.
Our orphan children have none of the luxuries the world celebrates—no doting parents, no lavish homes. But what they lack in material comfort, they more than make up for in faith and gratitude. Watching them during Midnight Mass, their faces glowing in the candlelight, it is clear that they understand the mystery of Christmas far better than most of us. Their joy at receiving the smallest gifts—a school bag, a pair of new clothes, some hair accessories and a warm meal—is a reflection of the simplicity and humility that marked the first Christmas night.
Just as the stable was filled with grace, so too are these orphanage rooms. The world might see emptiness, but God sees abundance. The world might count what is missing, but God multiplies what is present. These children, much like the Christ Child, remind us that true wealth is found not in possessions but in a heart open to His love.
Dear friends, let us take these lessons to heart. Let us stop and see the blessings that surround us—the love of family, the gift of faith, the opportunities to share in the lives of others. When we face our own times of drought, let us remember that it is in the low places that grace flows most freely. Just as Job found God in his ashes and the shepherds found Him in a manger, so too can we find Him in the midst of our struggles.
May we, like the shepherds of Bethlehem, kneel in awe before this Magnum Mysterium, and like the Wise Men of the Orient, offer the Gift of Self to the One who makes all things new.
With my Priestly Blessing, mingled with the prayers of our little orphans, may you all have a most blessed Christmas Season. Thank you for your generous support.
Merry Christmas,
Fr. Therasian Xavier
