Today’s Gospel message is a bit like the story of Beauty and the Beast, the animated film nominated for the Oscar Award in 1991.  In that film, Beauty stepped into the ugly world of the Beast, not because he was loveable, not because he deserved her, but because she loved her father.  But the world of the beast did not change right away, even though Beauty was there.  The servants, who shared the curse of the Beast, warned him that Beauty might be the one they had been waiting for, but the Beast continued to rage and scream and roar, finally sending Beauty away.  On her way home, she was attacked by the wolves, and Beast saved her.  As Beauty returned and nursed the wounded Beast back to health, they began to bicker and blame each other, until in one beautiful moment, Beauty stepped into the heart of the ugly beast. From that moment on, the Beast began to change slowly.  He started to laugh and play.  And then, finally, Beast realized that he loved Beauty, and in an amazing act of love, he released her to find her father.  Beauty and her father returned to the ugly world of the Beast to warn him of the danger of the townspeople’s attack, but they were too late.  In the fighting, Beast had been stabbed, and as he lay dying, Beauty confessed her love for him.  And the spell was broken. Beast was changed by the love of Beauty.  Because Beauty stepped into the ugly world of the Beast, Beast was changed, little by little, until one day he was transformed into a wonderful handsome prince.  In Jesus, God stepped into our ugly, beastly world as Joshua (Savior), and Emmanuel (sign of God’s permanent presence with us), to change it, to bring to it – to us – the beauty of the love of God’s kingdom.  But change comes slowly.  Yes, just look at our world.  There are so many ugly people, so many beastly things happening. But, there are some people who are changing and some who have been changed by the beauty of God’s love, and both begin loving others. Today’s Gospel describes the changes that occurred in St. Joseph and in the Holy Family.

You may have heard of “Dog Theology” vs. “Cat Theology.” Here is Dog’s Theology: “You feed me. You pet me. You shelter me. You love me. You must be God!” Cat’s Theology:  “You feed me. You pet me. You shelter me. You love me. I must be God.” A Far Side cartoon once depicted a scientist announcing a breakthrough in understanding cat language: “They say only two things: ‘Where’s my dinner?’ and ‘Everything here is mine.’”

Here is a cat story illustrating the need of our co-operation to get saved by God. At the very same time the Santa Ana winds returned to southern California, swamping flood waters inundated western state of Washington and submerged Interstate 5 for five days. Camera crews captured a lot of dramatic rescue stories. While filming the flooded farmlands a TV camera crew spied a lone refugee—a large grey cat perched on top of an old metal out-building. The flood waters had completely surrounded this cold and shivering cat. For whatever reason, the TV crew paddled and waddled forward to rescue the kitty. The cat took one look at this splashing gang of strangers with blazing lights and blaring bullhorns and saw his doom. As they tried in vain to corral and catch the cat, one camera recorded the kitty’s “escape” to higher ground. First, the cat leapt an amazing distance to the next ragged metal building. Then, still in a panic, the cat proceeded to climb the sheer, smooth, aluminum siding straight up for at least twelve feet—until he reached the roof peak and was “safely” away from all those who had thought they would “rescue” him. Now in total darkness and utterly defeated, the camera crew left. A check of the same site the next day found the flood waters had receded, and the super-cat had disappeared. — 2000 years ago, on that first Christmas, God launched a rescue mission to save mankind from the bondage of sin by sending His Son Jesus as our Savior. But being “saved” depends upon our trusting God the Savior because we cannot save ourselves. And that is the theme of today’s Gospel.