Christmas Eve: the church is aglow with candlelight, the air thick with the scent of incense, children abound, life is vibrant and the choir is in song, and the pews packed with people—some regular parishioners, others unfamiliar faces. There’s something uniquely beautiful about this gathering, where everyone, regardless of their spiritual journey, feels the pull of this holy night. For some, this might be the only time they attend Mass all year. And yet, even if their connection to the faith has dimmed, they remember one thing: the Our Father. They may struggle with all the other prayers but the Our Father resounds loud and clear, somehow this is a prayer that we remember, regardless of where we are on our spiritual and religious journey.
The Theology of Invitation
Christmas is the ultimate invitation. At its heart is the Incarnation—God becoming man in the most humble and vulnerable of ways. The birth of Jesus is not just a historical moment; it’s an eternal gesture of divine hospitality. God steps into our world, meeting us where we are, not where we think we should be.
When people, even those who come infrequently, step through the doors of the church at Christmas, they are responding, perhaps unknowingly, to this divine invitation. Their presence is an echo of the shepherds and wise men, who came to see and to wonder, drawn by the star and the promise of something greater. Sometimes that draw is older family members and sometimes it is a memory of a tradition and a connection that lies deep within.
The Power of Memory
In the rhythm of the Mass, the Our Father stands as a bridge. For many, it’s the one prayer they remember from childhood, the words etched into their hearts even if the rest of the liturgy feels unfamiliar. This prayer is a thread connecting them to their past, to their family, and to their faith.
Theologically, this moment is profound. St. Augustine spoke of the Our Father as the “summary of the Gospel.” To pray it is to align oneself with God’s will, to seek forgiveness, and to hope for daily sustenance. Even if someone doesn’t consciously live out their faith daily, this prayer brings them into communion with God and the entire Church. It’s a reminder that grace works quietly and mysteriously in every heart. It is a prayer that connects us all and also connects us to that which is infinitely beyond.
A Moment of Grace
Rather than lamenting the infrequency of attendance, we might instead embrace the opportunity to offer welcome and warmth. The Church, like the stable in Bethlehem, is a place for all. Those who attend Mass only at Christmas are not strangers; they are prodigal sons and daughters, seeking, perhaps without knowing it, the embrace of the Father.
This is why Christmas is so important. It’s not about perfect attendance or memorizing every word of the liturgy; it’s about encountering Christ. It’s about standing in awe of the mystery of God’s love—a love that chose to dwell among us, to walk with us, and to redeem us.
The Hope of Christmas
Christmas reminds us that faith is a journey, not a checklist. For some, attending Christmas Mass is a first step. For others, it’s a brief return. But for all, it’s a reminder of a God who loves unconditionally.
So, let us rejoice in the sight of once-a-year Catholics, dressed in their holiday best, surrounded by family, reciting the Our Father with reverence. In that moment, they—and we—are brought closer to the mystery of Emmanuel, God with us.
May this Christmas, like every Christmas, be a time of hope, grace, and welcome for all. For in the eyes of God, every step toward the manger is a step toward home.
The Female Theologian 