The Manger of My Heart

 

Jesus Desires to be Born in the Lowly Stable of a Humble Soul

Christmas Reflection by Fr. Maximilian Buonocore, OSB

It was the night of the Christmas Nativity play. Johnny went to the auditions a few weeks earlier feeling very confident that he would get cast for the part of Joseph. He felt that he was best qualified for that major part. He was therefore very upset when he was, instead, cast for the minor part of the innkeeper. He was still feeling annoyed when the play started, and, as a result, when the time came, he didn’t remember his one line. When Joseph and Mary arrived at the inn and asked him, “Is there room in the inn?” Little Johnny, the innkeeper, quickly replied, “Sure, come on in!” The boy playing Joseph, knowing that he and Mary were not supposed to stay in the inn, but were supposed to end up in the stable, thinking quickly, looked around and said, "Nah. This place is a dump. I'd rather stay in the stable." Then turning to Mary he said, “Come on, Mary, let’s go to the stable.” Our soul can be like the inn where Jesus prefers not to stay. Jesus prefers not to stay in the inn adorned with vainglorious decorations of selfish ambition, and the comfortable bed of self-serving contentment; with a bar where one can consume the spirits of jealousy, envy and anger, then go to one’s room of isolating grudges to rest on one’s pillow of self-satisfying judgment and self-justification. Jesus prefers to stay in a soul that is a humble stable, in the manger of a pure heart.

THE MANGER OF MY HEART
Poem by Fr. Maximilian Buonocore, OSB

Behold, a star with heav’nly light
Shines forth from deep within me.
It beckons me to Bethlehem
The House of God within my soul;
To the Place of Incarnation
To the Place of Divine Begetting Love,
The Place of Creative Love, of Charity.

It’s light, now faint, now bright:
The goal of this alluring light,
The path to where it beckons,
Mountains and hills confront, oppose,
Rough streets and winding roads
Countervailing valleys to traverse.
Mountains of pride, hills of greed,
Valleys of sadness and of grief,
Anxiety winds the roads
Made rough by anger and offense.

But I travel defiantly on that opposing path
Eyes fixed in contemplation of alluring light,
The paternal light of Divine Remembrance,
Drawing me with Divine Compassion
An Infant to embrace: a King.
Alas, with lively prayer, I come!
Before the throne of a King I stand
With gold of humble self-sacrifice,
With the frankincense of praise,
Offering myrrh of deep compassion
Before a Newborn King’s throne:
The manger of my heart.

Behold!
Even those interior mountains and hills,
Once opposing, dance with joy!
Valleys of mourning and sadness shout
Their rejoicing at the sight,
Exulting in the presence,
In the Bethlehem, in the stable of my soul
The place where Incarnational Light
Conceives, gives birth, and rests a child,
A King, in the manger of my heart.

Come, O my dear Father, place
In the humble stable of my soul
The dearest infant Jesus
In the manger of my heart.
My Father looks forth from heaven
'Tis a wondrous sight to see,
He gazes upon his work of art
In the humble stable of my soul:
The place where baby Jesus rests,
The manger of my heart.

Come, O Holy Spirit, plant
The seed of life within my soul;
Come, O Holy Spirit, plant
The seed of love within my heart.
A flame descends from heaven
'Tis a wondrous vision to behold,
A seed of fire: a spark
In the humble seedground of my soul,
And a Mystical Child is conceived
In the womb of my heart:
The Child of Life, the Child of Love,
Infant wisdom: faith,
Filial reverence and expectation: hope,
Charity: the olive branch of divine love!

Yes, dear infant Jesus, rest
In the manger of my heart.
My soul is not a palace, blest
With gold and precious art.
It is a humble stable where
The beasts of burden dwell;
The beasts that bear the yoke so dear
Of meekness and humility, and till
The soil of the spirit for
The seeds of holiness to plant
On fertile ground so rich in grace
For Jesus’ love to grow, and grant
Fruit of kindness and of charity
To all the poor and needy, who
Are naked and cold, hungry and thirsty
Like you, O infant Jesus, too.
So feed ye beasts of burden
From the manger of my heart,
'Tis filled with grain of life, and in
Its depths the living waters start
To flow to life eternal;
For there lies the Child of Life
In the manger of my heart.

A star shines forth from heaven
'Tis a wondrous sight to see.
It shines upon this work of art.
The place where baby Jesus rests
In the humble stable of my soul:
The manger of my heart!

All for Jesus,

Fr. Max