I Fell For the Scam Again This Year
Why Christmas still comes even when we’re unprepared, distracted, and unfinished.
Dear friends —
This Advent, all paid subscribers are receiving the Letters from Leo Advent Reflection Series: a daily companion to prepare for the coming of Christ at Christmas — and to reckon with what his arrival demands of us, personally and publicly, in a moment of deep moral and political crisis.
It’s not too late to join us. Today’s reflection is below.
To give you a sense of what you’ll encounter, I’ve unlocked two pieces for all readers.
The first is our opening Sunday reflection, which sets the tone for the season. The second is a reflection from earlier this month, where I wrote candidly about the isolating pain me and so many others experience during the holidays — and how Advent meets us there, not to deny the loneliness, but to reveal God’s quiet presence within it.
These reflections will continue each day through Christmas.
Letters from Leo is open to anyone who wants to be informed and inspired by our pope — and to turn that inspiration into action that leaves America and the world more just, less cold, and more alive with hope.
If you’d like to support this work during this sacred season, here are three ways you can help:
Subscribe as a paid member to receive exclusive posts about the life and formation of Pope Leo and help sustain this newsletter.
Donate with a one-time gift to fuel this project’s mission.
Share this post (and Letters from Leo) with a friend who might enjoy it.
Whether you give $0, $1, or $1,000, your presence here matters — no matter your faith or your politics.
Thank you for reading. I’ll see you on the road.
“Lift up your heads and see; your redemption is near at hand.” — (cf. Luke 21:28)
Those closest to me know I’m susceptible to any plausible sounding scam. One I fall for every year is the idea that if I just prepare properly for Christ’s coming at Christmas, I’ll be fully ready to receive the season’s gift.
If I carve out enough prayer time and do everything right interiorally, I’ll be perfectly prepared by Christmas Eve.
But, of course, as I re-learn every year around this time, that’s nonsense.
I could retreat from all the holiday hustle and still never feel ready enough for the mystery of God-with-us.
That perhaps is the season’s most underappreciated point: God gives us Jesus not because we’ve earned it with our discipline or devotion, but because as the Gospel of John tells us, he loved us first.
Our faith isn’t about what we do for God; it’s about what God has done for us.
Advent reminds us that the faith is not a boring set of rules, regulations and procedures, but an invitation to participate in a complex and cosmic drama about the goodness of creation, the pain of sin and brokenness, and the power of God’s redeeming love.
In today’s Gospel, Elizabeth and Zechariah never expected to have a child, but God, once again, had other plans.
When the angel announced they’d have a son, Zechariah doubted and was struck mute for nine long months of enforced quiet. When John was born and named as God instructed, Zechariah’s tongue was loosed at last.
His first words were a jubilant cry that should ring in our ears today as we face the tyranny of violence and oppression here at home and around the globe.
