Blessed Christmas Eve, Digital Neighbors! Good morning or good day, wherever you find yourself on our little spinning orb of life. Happy Wednesday, ADD Irregulars, Curators and Contributors of the WSN, and Happy Curmudgeons! You know of my fondness for all of you who make Padre’s a great place to laugh, ponder, rant, and chat about any number of topics that come along in our ADD-fueled coffee talks. Hello again, Friends, Refugees, Early Birds, Later Dayers, Conversants, Lurkers, and all members of The Rubin Report, where it all began. Hey there, Phamily, Dawn Patrol, and all you Misfits at Phetasy, now roaming about on Substack! I know it’s a long introduction, but consider it an act of appreciation from your resident Friar and local Padre.

I am not everyone’s cup of tea (it should be coffee if you pay any attention to the memes, for crying out loud)! But I am who I am: a Disciple, a Spiritual Father, mostly traditional, slightly disturbed, entertained by what many might consider inappropriate or irreverent humor for a Shepherd of Souls, a laugher at self and humanity, an adherent of common sense, a respecter of freedom, a believer in conversion, a lover of neighbors (all the easy ones to love and even the lousy ones—I pray for the lousy neighbors to get their crap together), a curious observer and seeker at the thresholds of experience, thought, and imagination, a fan of reality and yet a skeptic and questioner of so much that I see and read in the current chapter of life and information. I am a fan of Wrestling Jacob, holding tight to the Mysterium in the Night, waiting to know a name and a face in the dawning day. Better luck next time, buddy! But he does get a cool name change out of it!

I mostly love with the story of humanity, and I know so little of it. It is not all peaches and cream—mostly horrible chapters, to be frank, with little episodes of light and hope. This world was never meant to be the permanent residency; more of an incubator, nursery, eventual boot camp for something more. Today, this eve, I am thankful that the Unnamed of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—the Wrestler in the Night, the Burning Bush, the Guide of Judges and Prophets, the Lover of David, the Whisper at the mouth of a cave, the Faithful One of the Covenant—sent His WORD, His Son, to dwell among us, to become one of us, like us in all things but sin. Yes, I am aware of all the other days and stories in the ancient world religions that preceded this celebration and that Christians appropriated this day from the Romans. The Author of the story has entered the story. It is a stretch for many, but for me it is the key to trying to make sense of this life. It doesn’t mean it answers all of life’s questions and curiosities, but it is foundational and formative. There is plenty left for the “your guess is as good as mine” crowd.

I believe that the Incarnate One gathered disciples and left a community to invite humanity to know Him until He comes again. Far, far, far from a perfect community—there is plenty to point out for all the naysayers of Christianity and Catholicism in particular. No pedestals for the living, as it were, and there are plenty in death who are no saints. But to see only the shame and failings of Christianity is to see only a partial part of the story and to ignore the good it has helped create—and the good it has helped create is immense. Not perfect, but far better than the current ideologies seeking to supplant it. I so believe in G. K. Chesterton’s quote: The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.

Today, this Eve, we celebrate Him who gives the name to the Season, by whom we measure our years, and who dares to be personal and vulnerable in His Incarnation. Today you will know that the Lord is coming, and in the morning you will see His glory. Blessed Christ-Mass to all of you! You are in my prayers and often in my thoughts as my days unfold.