by Fr. Jeffrey S. Burwell, SJ
During the Christmas season, we remember that God does not break into the world with force or grandeur. He comes quietly. Jesus is born into a poor family with an uncertain future, in a place no one expected. His birth is not celebrated by rulers or institutions but by shepherds and travellers — ordinary people who lived on the margins. This is not a sentimental detail; it is the foundation of our faith. God draws close not to the powerful but to the overlooked and the vulnerable.
He comes to be with us — not above us.
This year, we celebrate Christmas in a world marked by fragility. Some live with conflict or loss. Others carry stress or live in isolation. Many feel tired from burdens they do not always speak about. In the world around us, we see inequity deepen and trust erode. Still, the angel’s words resound — do not be afraid. That reassurance is not naïve, nor is it a promise that things will become easy. It is a sign that grace enters even what is painful. Something new can be born again, even in places of fatigue and doubt.
The 2025 papal exhortation Dilexi Te is addressed to those in consecrated life; nevertheless, it invites each of us to recover the urgency of love. Speaking not of comfort or sentiment but of movement, it reminds us that love is not just something to feel. It is something to enact — something that must take shape in our lives and choices. If the Incarnation is truly the mystery at the centre of our faith, then it is more than a theological claim. It is a summons to seek where God already dwells. The birth of Christ pushes us outward, not inward.
Pope Leo XIV makes that direction unmistakably clear. He reminds us that Jesus aligned himself with the poor and the excluded. His public life echoed the circumstances of his birth. The incarnate Word chose to walk with those who carried wounds and who were often unwelcome. If we claim to follow Christ, then we cannot follow him only with good intentions. We must also follow him concretely — by walking toward those on the margins and standing in places where dignity is threatened.
As a Jesuit priest, I have served men in prison and walked alongside people living with addiction on city streets. They are not easy places to be, but they have revealed something essential. Jesus is often found where we do not expect him — in voices long ignored and painful moments that are raw. My experience is not unusual. The charism of the Society of Jesus calls many to share in this grace. Both my Jesuit brothers and so many of our partners in mission find themselves drawn to the peripheries.
If we believe that Jesus is the divine reconciler — the one who came to heal what is divided — then we must be willing to stand among those who are separated or cast aside. This is not a strategy or a slogan. It is the natural consequence of discipleship. The grace of Christmas refuses to remain behind walls or within boundaries. It moves toward what is fractured. That is where Christ continues to be present, and that is where our Jesuit ministries continue to serve with conviction and care.
Across the country, that ministry takes many forms. Some provide sacramental ministry to Indigenous communities in the far north. Others offer pastoral support to those living in urban poverty or arriving from war-torn nations. The mission of justice and reconciliation is alive — in classrooms and shelters, in hospitals and soup kitchens. Though the settings may differ, they share the same direction — a love that was freely received is now generously shared.
To all who participate in this mission — through work, prayer or financial support — thank you. Your commitment helps make the Gospel a living reality. May grace continue to guide your steps, and may peace fill your home. As the new year dawns, let us never tire of searching for our Lord in the people and places the world overlooks.
That is where the child Jesus waits for us still.
