The Child is Born
In the midwinter and the turning of the year to new things, Christendom has fixed the Mass of the Incarnation: of the divine birth, the renewal, the recovery of mankind.
Those who sneer at our origins tell us that the long dark Pagan time, which ended in a dawn, made this season also sacred to the Nativity of the Light. Let them learn that we glory in such coincidences. All those groping instinctive worships, symbols and imaginations, with which our Fathers sought to mitigate human despair, are the advent of the Faith. The Faith put substance suddenly into those shadows, and the forms of myth became alive with reality. The Child was born.
The Child is born; it is the Mass of Nativity, and the growth begins of That by which mankind is to be saved.
So long as Christendom held in one body and was quickened by a universal life – so long as our western world, the leader and teacher of the globe, was Catholic – the season was one of recognition and mere happiness. A Guest had arrived and was to be received with general ecstasy.
All men were brethren in the feast for all were hosts and subjects of that Guest. After the promise of this holy night, the sun which rose would shine forever. Such a spirit inhabited Christmas and the Twelve Days.
But can a secure rejoicing be the spirit of Christmas today?
Read the rest at The Catholic Thing