Christmas continues (despite what the world declares) and we remain at the Crib of Jesus, our Master.
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In the mystery of Christmastide, this Light is given to us, so to speak, softened down; our weakness required that it should be so.
It is indeed the Divine Word, the Wisdom of the Father, that we are invited to know and imitate; but this Word, this Wisdom, are shown us under the appearance of a Child.
Let nothing keep us from approaching him.
We might fear were he seated on a throne in his palace; but he is lying on a crib in a stable!
Were it the time of his Fatigues, his Bloody Sweat, his Cross, his Burial, or even of his Glory and his Victory, we might say we had not courage enough: but what courage is needed to go near him in Bethlehem, where all is sweetness and silence, and a simple Little Babe!
Come to him, says the Psalmist, and he enlightened!
O happy Crib of Bethlehem!
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