III. The Nativity of Our Lord - The Infant Jesus

And it came to pass that when they were in Bethlehem her days were accomplished, and she brought forth her first-born son, and wrapped Him up in swaddling clothes and laid Him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were shepherds keeping the night-watches over their flocks. And behold an Angel of the Lord stood by them, and the brightness of God shone around about them, and they feared with a great fear. And the Angel said to them: 'Fear not: for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy that shall be to all the people. For this day is born to you a SAVIOUR, who is Christ, the Lord.' And suddenly there was with the Angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saving, 'Glory to God in the highest; and on earth peace to men of good will.' - Luke 2:6,7,8,9,10,11,13,14

The heavens resound with a joyous and highest heavens. Angels bear the glad tidings to the world: 'This day is born to you a Saviour.' O heavenly spirits! Tell us where shall we find this Saviour so ardently desired, so long expected? In Bethlehem, the city of David. In Bethlehem! A small city indeed for so great a King! But surely some ancient, stately palace, the last relic of the fallen fortunes of those who once ruled in Juda, has been fitted up to receive the Son of God. Ah! no. His poverty finds no place for Him even in the public inns of the old city. The owners of human habitations refuse to receive Him; and His Mother, quite desolate, sees herself forced to share with animals a corner of their stable. 'And this shall be a sign to you,' continue the angels: 'you shall find the Infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger.'

What a change, great God, in Thy manifestations! Formerly, when Thou didst appear to our fathers of the old law, it was always under striking, and even terrible, figures; and often those who had been honoured by Thy manifestation were heard to cry out: 'We have seen the Lord; we shall die the death.' Now Thou presentest Thyself to us in the form of an infant.

An infant attracts us by its charms and touches our hearts by its helplessness. Its weak cries, its sweet smile, its peaceful rest soften the heart. What is more amiable than an infant? And behold, my Saviour is one! He does not resemble the children of some royal house around whom servants and courtiers gather in crowds. A cradle gilt with gold, a sumptuous service, would repel the lowly and the poor; and Jesus came that all should approach Him with confidence and love. This is why He shows Himself to us 'wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger.'

But at this crib how many precious lessons are imparted to me!

The infant Jesus teaches me to trample under foot the vain honours which human pride pursues with frantic eagerness.

The infant Jesus teaches me to despise the false and fleeting goods which my covetous heart rushes after.

The infant Jesus teaches me that privations and sufferings are intended to tame and reduce to obedience my rebellious flesh, the enemy of all virtue and of my perfection.

The infant Jesus calls me to a state of simplicity and candour, to an obscure, solitary, and hidden life.

With deepest reverence I receive these lessons in my heart, for it is love that gives them to me.

Love! Behold what moves me most today. The imperial edict which tore the Holy Family from the sweets of the domestic fireside, the blindness of men who refused an asylum to the Son of God hidden in the womb of His Mother, the cold December night of His nativity, the stable of Bethlehem, the swaddling clothes, the crib - all this was prepared in His eternal councils by the love of my God.

The Splendour of eternal light, the Infant Jesus, clothes Himself with our poor flesh. It is for love of me. My impure eyes could never have borne the brightness of His glory; and yet I had need of coming near my God, of seeing Him, of hearing Him, of touching and embracing Him. After the anxious waiting of humanity we had need of being delighted in the light of His sensible presence.

Master of all the goods of the world, the Infant Jesus condemns Himself to poverty. It is for love of me. My heart, so easily charmed with earthly things, had to learn that they are too small and too mean for my love, and that those who have the smallest portion of them are to possess, like their Saviour, the fullest measure of spiritual goods.

Eternally and perfectly happy, the infant Jesus began to suffer at the moment of His birth into the world. It is for love of me. I will be less inclined to rebel against the hard necessity of suffering when I see my Saviour submit to it from the first moment of His mortal life.

Who will not return the love of Him who has loved so much?

Would that I possessed the most pure heart of Thy Mother, O my Jesus, with which to love Thee as I ought!

Would that I could unite my affections with those of Thy adopted Father, so full of humility and reverence!

Would that I had a place among the shepherds to whom the angels notified Thy birth, so as to take part in their simple and fervent adoration!

Would that I could enter into the company of the kings and lay down at Thy feet the gold of my charity, the incense of my adoration, the myrrh of my penance!

O beloved Child! drive me not away. Allow me at least to envy the lot of the poor, dumb beasts that warmed Thee by their breath; and, even if it is small indeed, deign to unite the humble love of my poor heart with Thy infinite love.

- text taken from Jesus in the Rosary, by Father Jacques-Marie Louis Monsabre, O.P.