on this day in history

Today, August 15, is the feast of the Assumption of Mary into heaven, as well as my Cuban grandfather Alipio’s birthday!

On this date in 1945, church bells rang throughout the world as the Second World War finally came to an end. For Koreans, today is also Independence Day—commemorating the end in 1945 of what was a bitter and cruel Japanese rule over the Korean people.

It seems like no coincidence, therefore, that Pope Francis chose this date for his first visit to Asia. He wasted no time calling all of us to pray -- and work -- for peace!

 “[Korea’s] national legacy has been tested through the years by violence, persecution and war. But despite these trials, the heat of the day and the dark of the night have always given way to the morning calm, that is, to an undiminished hope for justice, peace and unity. What a gift hope is! We cannot become discouraged in our pursuit of these goals which are for the good not only of the Korean people, but of the entire region and the whole world…

Peace is not simply the absence of war, but “the work of justice” (cf. Is 32:17). And justice, as a virtue, calls for the discipline of forbearance; it demands that we not forget past injustices but overcome them through forgiveness, tolerance and cooperation. It demands the willingness to discern and attain mutually beneficial goals, building foundations of mutual respect, understanding and reconciliation. May all of us dedicate these days to peace, to praying for it and deepening our resolve to achieve it.”

¡Asi sea! (may it be so).

[Click here for the full text of Pope Francis’ August 14 speech to South Korean leaders on his first day of a 5-day visit.]

During his visit this week, Pope Francis will beatify Korea's first martyr,
Paul Yun Ji-chung, and his 123 companions

how my grandfather Alipio prepared for Christmas

[This one is a reprint of a story published a few years ago… and re-published online by Our Sunday Visitor this month. I hope you enjoy it:]

Every year of his adult life until his death at the age of 95, my Cuban grandfather Alipio Páez set up a Nativity scene or nacimiento that could easily compete with the elaborate window displays put on by Macy's.

Not satisfied with presenting just the figurines of Mary, Joseph, Jesus, and the cast of usual characters, Alipio would turn the living room of his small house into the whole town of Bethlehem.

This was not just the Bethlehem described in the Gospels, but a Caribbean-style Bethlehem — with abundant palm trees, rivers, houses on the hills, tall blooming trees, all set up on papier-mâché mountains painted in shades of green and brown. My meticulous grandfather even had plastic pigs and cows to keep the miniature sheep and their shepherds company.

No matter what new addition he came up with, Alipio's Bethlehem always centered on the glorious crèche, the physical place where the deepest and most complicated elements of Christian theology became flesh.

My earliest Christmas memories all center on that humble stable, where the mystery and wonder of the word "Incarnation" came to life for me. The virgin birth. The Son of God conceived in Mary's womb. A baby in Mary's arms, both true God and true man. Even as a child, I understood the unspoken truth that the colorful Christmas tree was meant to take a back seat to the stunning Bethlehem scene.

By bringing his own world of pigs and palm trees to Bethlehem Alipio was not saying that the biblical details of the Christmas story were unimportant to him. It was entirely the opposite. By bringing to life the surroundings of the story beyond the historical pesebre, the humble crèche, my grandfather emphasized the central truth — the actual point — of the story!

God so loved the world that He came to be one with each of us, right where we are.

Like Alipio's beautiful nacimiento, Christmas traditions for Hispanics are often a gentle incarnation of the sacred within the ordinary. Through traditions that inspire all the senses -- with songs and sights and delicious smells -- Hispanics bring to life and celebrate the familiar birth story of Jesusito, reminding us what's most important about the Christmas season.

[Click here to read the rest of the story, published originally as "Celebrating Christmas with Hispanic Eyes" in The Priest Magazine.]

Advent is almost over… take time to ponder what the Bethlehem event means for you today!

my Michelle, awed by her great-grandfather's "Bethlehem"!

Christmas with Hispanic eyes, el nacimiento

Alipio Páez, "Lelo," at his home in Hato Rey, Puerto Rico

Every year of his adult life until his death at the age of 95, my Cuban grandfather Alipio Páez set up a Nativity scene or nacimiento that could easily compete with the elaborate window displays put on by Macy's.

Not satisfied with presenting just the figurines of Mary, Joseph, Jesus, and the cast of usual characters, Alipio would turn the living room of his small house into the whole town of Bethlehem. This was not ''just'' the Bethlehem described in the Gospels, but a Caribbean-style Bethlehem -- with abundant palm trees, rivers, houses on the hills, tall blooming trees, all set up on papier-mâché mountains painted in shades of green and brown. My meticulous grandfather even had plastic pigs and cows to keep the miniature sheep and their shepherds company.

No matter what new addition he came up with, Alipio's Bethlehem always centered on the glorious crèche, the physical place where the deepest and most complicated elements of Christian theology became flesh. My earliest Christmas memories all center on that humble stable, where the mystery and wonder of the word ''Incarnation'' came to life for me. The virgin birth. The Son of God conceived in Mary's womb. A baby in Mary's arms, both true God and true man. Even as a child, I understood the unspoken truth that the colorful Christmas tree was meant to take a back seat to the stunning Bethlehem scene.

el nacimiento, the main event in Alipio's Bethlehem

By bringing his own world of pigs and palm trees to Bethlehem Alipio was not saying that the biblical details of the Christmas story were unimportant to him. It was entirely the opposite. By bringing to life the surroundings of the story beyond the historical pesebre, the humble crèche, my grandfather emphasized the central truth -- the actual point -- of the story! God so loved the world that He came to be one with each of us, right where we are.

Like Alipio's beautiful nacimiento, Christmas traditions for Hispanics are often a gentle incarnation of the sacred within the ordinary. Through traditions that inspire all the senses -- with songs and sights and delicious smells -- Hispanics bring to life and celebrate the familiar birth story of Jesusito, reminding us what's most important about the Christmas season.

TO READ THE REST OF THE ARTICLE, click here

Alipio's full Bethlehem scene