Recently I woke up at what I thought was 5:30am. When it turned out that it was only 12:30am, and I knew that I definitely was not falling back to sleep, I spent the next four hours listening to an audio book entitled, “Vipers’ Tangle” by François Mauriac. Written in 1932, the book is almost entirely in the form of a letter penned by an angry and bitter man to his estranged wife. For almost all of their married life, there has been a simmering hatred that spills over into the lives of their children and grandchildren. Envies, greed, and resentments have poisoned the entire family. As the letter progresses, it becomes clear that there is a battle occurring for the soul of the protagonist. Are hatreds and resentments set in stone? Is it possible to be changed? In many ways, he has lived his life fulfilling the expectations of the role assigned to him by everyone. He was considered to be a miserly and hateful man. Because everyone treated him in this way, the more he “dug in” to be that way. He also realizes that he too has done the same to others. He has observed some fault or weakness in that family member and reduced the person to that one trait or characteristic. He–and his family members–never give one another the benefit of the doubt. They ascribe nefarious intentions to every act of each other. Hatred, rivalry, suspicion, and antagonism become a way of life for all of them. Although all of us know how a family ought to be, we also know that our families are made up of imperfect people who live through imperfect situations. One of the beautiful aspects of the “Vipers’ Tangle” is that the main character moves from the recognition that he is the way he is–in part–because of the ways that others have treated him, to realizing that others in his family are the way they are because of how he has treated them. All of us can have a tendency to identify the fault or failure of another and then define the other by that fault or failure. None of us would particularly care to be identified by our worst moment in life. Yet, we are often all too willing to define others by their worst moment. We are often all too easily willing to attribute nefarious motives to those with whom we have difficulty. There was a great line in the book that said (and I am liberally paraphrasing), “We attribute lofty intentions to people whose real motives are much baser.” In other words, when someone doesn’t wish you a happy birthday, it is more likely because they are absent-minded and forgetful rather than they have devised a sinister plot to make you feel awful on your birthday. So many people feel locked into terrible family situations. They feel as though they are compelled to play a certain role. “I’m the rebellious one, so I have to live forever in rebellion.” “I’m the angry one, so I have to be angry.” “I’m the marshmallow, so I can never stand up for what is right.” “I am the failure, so I have to live up to being the failure.” In “Vipers’ Tangle” grace begins imperceptibly to do its work. We begin to see that wherever the door is opened to Christ, something beautiful can happen. Sin, brokenness, resentments, hardened hearts all dissolve before the beauty of the Christ Child. The tangle of vipers that can take up residence in the human heart and in so many familial situations has no power wherever the Christ Child is welcomed. The character in the book clung to money, resentments, and a prideful image of himself. It was only when he was willing to let go of these and cling to Christ that he was set free. Today, as we look into the manger, let us resolve to let go of all the bitterness, resentments, prides, lusts, envies, avarices, gluttonies, and rash judgments that we cling to and instead take the Christ Child into our arms. When we embrace Him, evil melts away. (Apologies if you wind up hearing some of the above in a homily on Christmas or on Holy Family! I had to write this a couple of weeks ago and may decide to use it in a homily.) Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes