Out for a walk along North Loop, near where I live in Antelope, I pass by an open area, a field with a little creek running through it. Sometimes I hear ground mice scurrying around. I only hear them, but the hawk whoıs taken up residence somewhere in the field and frequently hovers over the field sees very well the next meal running for cover. Cranes, egrets, redwing blackbirds, in the area, seem nervous about my passing by. And even in this December, the grass and weeds are green, reaching out their leaves toward the faded winter sun. Everything seems as it should except that along the roadıs edge, where I walk, there are signs of humanityıs deep and even blasphemous misunderstanding of our place in the creation: broken beer bottles, fast food packages tossed thoughtlessly onto the face of the meadow, scraps of old newspapers, moldy campaign signs that people never picked up, and some school kidıs tossed, muddied report card.

Arrogant disregard for the earth and for the creatures that inhabit the fields, woodlots, and backyards of America may be an unfortunate shadow of the Christian faith. Sad to say, among Christians the ancient order from the book of Genesis to have dominion over the natural world has been taken as permission for domination and even destruction of earth and its creatures. I thought of these things going for my daily walk, past the fields where the other creatures lives, and then realized that Christmas shines a light across the shadowy confusion we have about the created world‹and our place in it.

At its best, Christianity has long known that sensitivity to the presence of life on this earth, to earth itself as a good and sacred creature of Christ is a core value. St. Francis of Assisi, whom legend credits for starting the tradition of the Nativity scene with farm animals present, is famous for his love of animals and birds. But he wasnıt alone in this. Back in the days when life was mostly rural, and people were dependant on their animals for their very survival, some parts of the world developed traditions about feeding birds and animals on Christmas Eve‹some mutton for the birds, some extra oats for the cows and horses, these were gifts offered at the midnight hour to the mystery of the Word made flesh. In the dark solstice, the light of the Christmas mystery helped people honor the interdependence of all life. For Christ is present not only in sacraments and churches and people, but in all critters, because like us, they, too, are his thoughts and creations, and he loves them. Thus St. Paul wrote, For everything was created by him, everything in heaven and on earth, everything seen and unseenŠ All things were created by Godıs Son, and everything was made for him.

I take this to mean that Christ is not only very much at home among us, but also at home among the other creatures, and because thatıs true, all creatures have great value and must be honored. Remember these amazing words at the end of the Genesis creation story? God looked at what he had done. All of it was very good! Or, one modern saying puts it, ³God doesnıt make junk!² But we (human being creatures!) often have a hard time with that. Either we feel in our hearts that we are junk, or that others are junk! And if there is a lot of junk around, why then, who cares? Go ahead and trash each other and the world. We are feeling that way we are in a bad situation spiritually.

Consider this extreme example. You probably know that psychologists and counselors warn that one sign of serious future trouble is a child who harms or torments animals. Back when I was just a boy, a very troubled neighborhood kid found a nest of baby robins and with glee did terrible things to those little birds. I ran home in horror, and vowed never to do anything like that. Later in life that neighborhood kid ended up criminally insane. What a tragedy. But such tragedies abound on earth. Sin itself is experienced as our flight from the very love that would heal and make us know just how worthwhile we are. It is so hard for us to accept that we are acceptable, to believe that God truly loves us, just as we are. But that is the very problem Christıs birth into the world was meant to deal with! Christ came to reconcile us to God, to show us in the deepest possible way the depths of the divine love for all creatures.

We might even say that our Lordıs Christmas walk led him out into the trashiness of the world, out to the city garbage dump called Golgotha, where human brutality tortured the one they assumed was a fake Messiah. They laughed and mocked the Great Pretender as he suffered on the Cross. Surely one who loved the bothersome poor, and the outcasts and sinners, and who dared to criticize the powerful could not be Godıs man! They didnıt know what they were doing or what God was doing in that awful moment. But we know: And God was pleased for Christ to make peace by sacrificing his blood on the cross, so that all beings in heaven and on earth would be brought back to God. Thatıs why Christ was born. He came to put things right in a creation wounded by sin, among bipeds who just canıt seem to accept their proper role as beloved caretakers of this corner of the Universe. But often a child can show us Godıs mind.

In his book The Power of the Powerless (New York: Doubleday, 1988), Christopher de Vinck tells a simple story: "One spring afternoon my five-year-old son, David, and I were planting raspberry bushes along the side of the garage .... A neighbor joined us for a few moments .... David pointed to the ground .... 'Look, Daddy! What's that?' "I stopped talking with my neighbor and look down. 'A beetle,' I said. "David was impressed and pleased with the discovery of this fancy, colorful creature. My neighbor lifted his foot and stepped on the insect, giving his shoe an extra twist in the dirt. 'That ought to do it,' he laughed. "David looked up at me, waiting for an explanation, a reason .... That night, just before I turned off the light in his bedroom, David whispered, 'I liked that beetle, Daddy.' "'I did too,' I whispered back."

The presence of Christ spoke in the whispered words of son and father.

This Christmas, may the presence of Christ speak love in our hearts, and then, in our words--and actions, too. Amen.