It was a gift. A very special gift, a 1.6 carat diamond ring, tucked into a burgundy-colored box with gold piping and a gold clasp. The ring was meticulously placed inside a solid briefcase.
That gift, an engagement ring, was never to be presented by Andrew Krukar, the man who bought it, for it was stowed upon TWA Flight 800, a tragic airliner which crashed in flames several minutes after takeoff
on July 17, 1996. In the blink of an eye, the ring was lost, adrift in a sea of sorrow.
Probably no story of that sad event was more poignant or moving than that of a woman named, Julie Stuart, the woman whose hand that engage- ment ring was intended to adorn. Her fiancé, An- drew perished on that fateful flight. He was flying early to Paris to meet Julie the very next day for their engagement. All their plans, all their hopes, all their dreams for the future suddenly and tragically dashed? How does one recover from that sad- ness? How does one keep moving forward in one’s grief? How does one find the courage and the hope to continue?
Sadly, the story of Julie Stuart is just one of many tragedies that plague our world, stories that are dis- played each and every day in the news. Loss, diffi- culty, sickness, disease, war, oppression, despair. Day after day after day. And thus it has been down through the ages. Let’s be honest, the story of hu- mankind is one long difficult story of darkness. This year in the Holy Land we were brutally reminded of the madness of hate, the insanity of violence.
And yet, in the midst of all of this, we, who call our- selves Christians, dare to light a flame. We have the audacity to celebrate in the deep dead of winter. We rejoice and we revel, we sing and we laugh.
Because on this day, Christmas Day, we know that whatever the sadness, whatever the difficulty, what- ever the pain, whatever the loss, still: Christ is born. “For unto us a Child is born, a son is given.” “Unto those who dwelt in darkness, a light has shown!”
This is not an escape into an illusion. This is nei- ther fantasy nor make believe. We do not deny nor ignore the evil. We don’t dull our senses with Christmas cheer, as if the sadness never existed. That should not be, this cannot be what Christianity
stands for. Our religion is not, as Karl Marx fa- mously said, our opiate, our drug. Instead, our faith commands us to look straight into the eyes of evil; it demands us to face steadfastly misfortune and sor- row. Yet, with hope. Why? Because we know that our God has visited us. We understand that our God knows our weakness. Our God knows our pain. Our God knows what we know. For our God became one of us. He leapt down from the heav- ens and made his dwelling among us, showing him- self even to poor, simple shepherds.
Christmas is a time of light, a reminder of the light which came into the world. Christmas also chal- lenges us to carry the light of Christ out into the world — a world so often filled with, indeed resigned to darkness. One tiny light lit 2000 years ago con- tinues to light the way for men and women even today. The Lord of Light, the Gift of God, the Christ. And so we must light the way for others in our own little imperfect ways.
Six months after the plane crash, a week before Christmas in 1996, the ring that Julie Stuart was to receive from her fiancé was returned to her by the FBI. It seems improbable, if not impossible, that they could recover such a small item out of the vast sea, but they did. And even though it is not quite the happy ending she had hoped for, I am certain that she will wear that ring as a lasting sign of the love that she shared with her beloved. Even in the saddest of situations, there is always hope, there is always life. It reminds us that no matter what may come our way — because our God chose to come into our world, darkness will not defeat us. There is light after all.
This Christmas, as we search for what was lost in a sea of sadness, may we discover the gift that re- minds us how deeply loved we are.
Father Kevin