After the witness of Stephen, the Church draws us back — not away from the world’s cost, but into its most intimate centre.
We return to a family. Not an idealised one, but a vulnerable household shaped by uncertainty, obedience, and trust. Mary, Joseph, and the child do not stand outside suffering or danger. They live within it — learning, day by day, how to carry God in the ordinary weight of human life.
For Cistercians, this feast speaks deeply. The Holy Family sanctifies the hidden years: the quiet meals, the unrecorded labour, the long patience of living together. God is not only revealed in martyrdom or proclamation, but in fidelity to daily responsibility — in staying, listening, and choosing love when it is costly and unseen.
Here in the monastery, family is not formed by blood but by commitment. We learn, often slowly, that holiness grows through endurance: through bearing one another’s limits, forgiving small wounds, and returning again to the work of communion. The Holy Family shows us that God’s dwelling place is not perfection, but faithfulness.
As Christmas continues, we are reminded that the Word made flesh does not rush us onward. He grows — within a family, within time, within love patiently learned. May we allow that same patient grace to shape our own lives, trusting that God still chooses to be formed quietly among us.