Chase The Kangaroo

He Is Here

Christmas Day does not ask much of us.

There is no waiting left to do. No anticipation to manage. No longing to sharpen. What Advent promised has arrived, and the world is different now, whether it notices or not.

God is here.

Not symbolically. Not metaphorically. Not as an idea to admire from a distance. He has come near and has not withdrawn. Christmas Day does not rush us forward. It invites us to stay.

This is the temptation of the modern moment. We move quickly from arrival to explanation, from mystery to meaning, from gift to response. But the Church, at her best, resists that impulse. Christmas Day lingers. It stands still. It refuses to turn the Incarnation into a lesson too quickly.

The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.
Not briefly.
Not in passing.
He stayed.

There is no hurry in the manger. No urgency to improve ourselves before being seen. The child does not demand understanding. He requires attention. Presence. Nearness.

Christmas Day reminds us that God does not save from a distance. He does not shout instruction from the heavens. He enters the ordinary weight of human life and remains within it. Breath. Body. Time.

This is not the end of the story. But it is the moment everything turns.

Advent taught us how to wait. Christmas Day teaches us how to remain. To receive without grasping. To behold without explaining. To let the truth settle into us without immediately asking what comes next.

There will be days ahead for action. For witness. For cost. For revelation. Those days will come soon enough.

For now, Christmas Day says only this:
Stay here.
God has come near.
And He has not left.