Christmas continues (despite what the world declares) and we remain at the Crib of Jesus, our Master.
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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