Each year, Catholics commemorate aspects of the early life of Jesus on various feasts during the Twelve Days of Christmas.  Included therein is the Gospel story of His family’s flight into Egypt as immigrants who sought asylum from terror in their home country.  In modern America, as well as many places around the globe, we compare the Holy Family to families we know who also seek refuge or a better life as migrants to our country.

Some think that it is not fair to compare ancient Israel to current America or their escape from a murderous tyrant to undocumented people among us today—maybe it’s not, but a constant theme of God’s Incarnation story is that He wasn’t welcomed.  We’re told that there was no room for them at the inn, such an important part of the Christmas message.  Jesus was born in a cave or barn or place that was intended for beings that are less than human.  Perhaps animals at the beginning of life symbolize how He lived among outcasts, discarded, marginalized, and ostracized citizens later in life.  As a baby, He was laid in a manger, a food trough for animals.  “Bethlehem” means the house of bread and Jesus is the Bread of Life.  We acknowledge this every time we receive holy communion which, as Saint Carlo Acutis and others remind us, is a second Incarnation to which God continually invites us.  Scripture scholars inform us that the Greek word for “inn” or place where travelers lodge (kataluma) is only used twice in the entire Bible.  The other time it is used was on the day before Jesus was killed, when His disciples asked Him where to prepare the Passover Supper; He instructed them to go into the city and follow a particular man who would lead them to the kataluma, seeming to emphasize that when He entered the world and when He exited the world it was via rejection.  We make no room for Him in our world.

Annually, as one year turns into another, some of us reflect upon how we served as innkeepers during the past twelve months: whether we reject or find room for those who come to us in life.  We do so as a means to be more considerate in the year ahead; it can be a powerful and deeply spiritual meditation.  Pope Leo and other church leaders continuously prompt us to recall Catholic Social Teachings, based on the dignity of every human person.  They remind us that nations need and have every right to determine who comes into their country and, at the same time, are called to humanize operations, including respect for immigrants and those in law enforcement.  These church leaders want us to understand that two extreme but common political postures—unfettered, illegal entrance and mass, indiscriminate deportation—are inadequate.  Christians, of course, are to rise above politics in imitation of our Christ.  We are encouraged to see in the faces of immigrants the face of the Holy Family.  We are urged each Christmastime to think about how we make room for Jesus in our hearts and in our lives.  You and I will not solve the challenges of immigration, the biggest issue of 2025 in our country, but we are, by virtue of our faith, called to have compassion and bring it to our daily encounters.  When we have empathy for others, we open the door as innkeepers and have empathy for Our Lord, too.