Magyar Egyház, 1965 (44. évfolyam, 2-12. szám)
1965-12-01 / 12. szám
MAGYAR EGYHÁZ 9 MAGYAR CHURCH Christmas Joy Man has thousands of wounds. He has many, many sorrows and heavy crosses. Dark powers threaten him. Millions of desires burn in his soul. Who can enumerate the troubles of men, and the kinds of men there are in this world? Eternal God Who has created the human heart, Who, in His endless Fatherly love, bent down over man and Who knows the secrets of all hearts, in the silence of Advent has considered man in his distress. The Creator, the very-loving Heavenly Father, spoke to the angels of two kinds of men on earth. The one is the fearful man, the other the unhappy man. Why is man fearful and why is he unhappy? He fears a terrible dark power — Death. He is full of anxiety for himself and his loved ones. There would never be fear if there were not this anxiety for life. He fears that he will perish — he fears destruction. He has lost something precious — it may be a loved one, it may be that health and happiness have flown, it may be that something has died in his heart — something has vanished, youth, life — somebody or something is missing. We are orphaned. We have lost hope or we have been deceived. The old home is lost to us, purity is gone and there is no way back. We have hurt someone, and there is no way to make reparation. It is true that man is fearful, trembling, weeping — and — most unhappy. Go, angels, to that man who is weeping for lost happiness and Paradise, and who fears death and damnation, tell him that I am in a majestic gift-giving mood, tell him “fear not, — do not grieve — be joyful because my love and goodness has become incarnate and has descended to the earth. See — there it slumbers in the manger cradle at Bethlehem. You need not fear Death, because the One W'hom I have sent to you is the Prince of Life, the Saviour. Your unhapiness is turned to joy because in the Child of Christmas I have become reconciled with the world. He gives back what has been lost and lights the way back to the Father’s home. He will heal broken hearts and restore ruined lives. I have made him the source of all joy that you — unhappy man — may be happy.” Fearful and unhappy man, my most earnest desire is that on this Christmas Eve you may hear the message of Heaven and that the angels may herald to you the truth that there is no reason for fear and grief. Lo, hear the message as it rings cut to us, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people. For unto you is born, this day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ, the Lord” (Luke 2:10-11). Wishing you a Blessed Christmas, rich in grace and a Happy New Year, we remain Faithfully yours in Christ: Louis Nagy, Bishop and dr. Sándor Kiss, Chief Elder ülltp (Ehristmaa §tory ANDREW HARSANYI: MARY TELLS HER STORY The night was dark; it was close to the second watch, midnight in a few minutes. The heavy cedar door of Mary’s house opened just to a narrow slit, so a man could get out of tile house without letting too much light on the street. It was late, and the night patrol of the Romans circulating in the streets of Jerusalem might get suspicious. As a matter of fact, the Romans were suspicious. There was too much coming and going into and out of this house. But there was nothing they could put their finger on. Once they stopped a well dressed man with a woman and two boys leaving as for a journey. “Who are you and where are you going?” With a jerk of his head, the man looked at the officer. Then he answered rather mildly: “My name is Simon from Cyrene, brave Centurion. A merchant from Africa. I took my family on this business trip to Jerusalem with me. You see, we had been here once, many years ago. But then my sons hau been just small boys. And I wanted them to see the holy places of. ..” Suddenly he broke off and continued with a new sentence: “Mary, the owner of this house is an old business acquaintance. She is very hospitable, too. Can I go now, Centurion?” The Roman officer waved with a frown. “They are all so smooth-tongued,” he thought to himself. This man wasn’t lying but he wasn’t telling the whole truth either.” Of course, Simon did not tell the whole truth. How could he tell what holy places he wanted to show his two grown sons, Alexander and Rufus, in Jerusalem? He could not very well tell the Roman officer that they went together, step by step, along the road where the Master had struggled under his heavy cross on that terrible Friday noon. He coulun’t tell how they stopped at a point, Simon looking around carefully, examining the houses, the angle of the view of the hill of Golgatha, and finally speaking to his sons, in a low whisper — although no one was around: “This is the spot. I know it is. I recognize that house and the sycamore tree ■—- it was much smaller then, of course. Yes, this is the exact spot where the Master collapsed under the weight of the cross. Then that Roman officer just pointed at me. ‘You, there. You carry the cross. Don’t stand gaping. Take up that cross and forward!’.” “How can one bear this, my boys? Do you understand? I carried the cross of the Lord!” —- and he covered his face with his hands.
