The First Time (A Christmas Memory)

The year was 1963 - I am certain of that.
I was a deacon, ordained just a couple of months before Christmas, so a brand new, fresh deacon. In the coming June I would be ordained a priest (God willing , we would always add.)
For now I got to fit into the role of deacon for a few months.
On the Third Sunday of Advent I preached my first homily. Remember that well too. How could I forget that one? My first experience was at the Detroit House of Correction, mens' division and then a bit later at the women's division.
A few days before Christmas we were sent home.
Christmas vacation.
And as freshly minted deacons before being sent home we were given a set of behavioral instructions - what we could do and what, back in those days we could not do even if asked by someone as significant as our pastor.
There were limits on the proper role of a deacon, serious limits. Vatican II was just unfolding.
One of the limits on us then was that we were not allowed to distribute Communion.
Priests and only priests in those days distributed Communion. Only the hands of a priest were allowed to touch the Eucharist.
I had no worry about that since I knew my pastor and I knew that this would never be something he would ask or expect.
Sure enough when I got home for that vacation, I was readily asked by my pastor to serve as deacon for the Midnight Mass.
I would vest as a deacon, stand directly behind the pastor at the Solemn Midnight Mass, proclaim the Gospel (in Latin, of course.) I would announce the ending of the Mass. End of story.
And then came that moment during the Mass.
The ciboria were on the altar filled to the brim with freshly Consecrated Hosts, numbering enough to tend to the overflow Midnight Mass crowd.
And my pastor, that pastor who would never put me on the spot, handed me a ciborium!
"I am not allowed to distribute Communion, " I protested but in a whisper for we were at the altar.
"Who told you that," my pastor responded also in his whisper.
"The seminary rector, " I answered.
"Well," my pastor countered, "I'm in charge here and I set the rule here and you will distribute Communion!"
To that moment in my life I had never held a consecrated Host, never even held a ciborium.
Now, in that moment, I would hold in my hands the Eucharist, the very Word made flesh. I would give the Lord of Bethlehem to His people!
And I started to shake, tremble.
The realization of what was now taking place, a realization empowered by faith, grabbed hold of me.
And as I reached into that ciborium, what was it? Six? Eight,? Maybe even ten hosts came flying out!
The moment caused me to tremble so!
And today, so many, many years later, I still remember and even feel the moment.
It was the first moment I held Him and presented Him to His people.
And that makes me wonder how Mary felt when first she held her new-born Child.
And how she felt when she presented Him to those shepherds.
Did she tremble? Even just a bit?
And Joseph? When he held that Child and looked down into His eyes?
Did he tremble? Even just a bit?
It is an awesome thing this thing that God has done for us.
This is what we remember at Christmas..
This is the essence of what we celebrate.
The Word has become flesh and come to dwell among us.
And He has placed Himself into our hands and our hearts and our lives.
Oh, come, let us adore Him!
It truly is an awesome thing that  God has done for us.
Out of love!