From there:

‘Years ago when I served at a church in New York City, I used to hang around with some urbane literary types, most of them disdainful of religion. I have never forgotten one conversation I had. The man in question, knowing I was a priest of the church, made a confession to me. He told me very sheepishly that he had done something behind his wife’s back. Apparently she had long since banished every hint of religion from their household. She held Christian faith in contempt, as a relic of a superstitious and unenlightened era. Church, of course, was out of the question. Her husband told me that he found himself so longing to hear the story from St. Luke that he smuggled a small King James Bible into the bathroom, locked the door, and read it to himself. That’s a true story. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Do you think that his wife would have required him to take “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” into the bathroom? Or “A Child’s Christmas in Wales”? Or Dickens’ A Christmas Carol? It’s something to think about, isn’t it? The only Christmas story that has something transcendent about it is Luke’s. That’s why it continues to have a hold on people. God is in this story. Something greater than the birth of a baby is here. This is a story about something mysterious, something ultimate.’

Merry Christmas!

(The Nativity by Gerbrand van den Eeckhout (1621-1674)) pic.twitter.com/nA4YXYODml

— Brant Law (@Mr_BLaw) December 25, 2021

Christmas teaches us this great mystery: the truth of Trinitarian love is so beautiful and heart-breaking that it could only be communicated in the form of a child. Being a father has driven home the reality of children in a new way. When my wife was expecting our first son, a friend told me: “Being married is joyful; having children is like mainlining joy.” I have found this to be true. Yes, having children is exhausting and self-consuming and all the rest, but my little son is a well of bottomless joy and wonder, right within reach. The sound of his voice and the touch of his hand are some of life’s sweetest delights. Léon Bloy writes that suffering brings into existence new places in the human heart, but so does joy. God came to us as a baby to show us that joy is more real than sorrow, that our deepest joys now are but a taste of his inner life.

Christmas is a season of gratuitous beauty, both in the sense of being excessive and being a gift of grace. When celebrated rightly, all the effort and cost become an extravagant gift, a sign of the lavish generosity and glory of God. Christmas is the feast when that glory is revealed as humble and self-emptying, when God condescends to become a beauty we can receive. “You can never stop looking at your baby,” my mother told me, and she was right. This is not because a baby is brilliantly truthful or morally good, but because he is beautiful in a way that nothing else is.

In her recent St. Margaret of Scotland Lecture at St. Andrew’s, theologian Jennifer Newsome Martin reflects on what our experience of beauty teaches us about the truth of God—in this case, the beauty of a garden of sunflowers she had planted last spring:

And I could not stop looking at them. I never grew tired of looking at them. . . . I regarded the sunflowers in a mode of absolute gratuity, contemplating without expectation those magnificent, endlessly fascinating heliotropes that followed the sun all day with their attentive, cheerful faces turned toward the corollary giftedness of its rays. . . .

To look at them—and I know saying this probably approaches cliché—made my heart soar. I could actually feel it in my chest. But it also, in a very real way, made my heart sore. The homonymic potential here between “soar” (S-O-A-R) and “sore” (S-O-R-E) is very apt, because in my own experience of beauty, if I am paying good attention, it really is something of both: a cocktail of bliss and pain together, and inextricably so.

Is this not our experience of the child Jesus and Christmas, too?

Read it all.

Love and good wishes to all at Christmas (Nativity, Bartolome Esteban Murillo, Museum of Fine Arts, Houston) pic.twitter.com/KiEV9luoWM

— Andrew Davison (@AP_Davison) December 25, 2020

The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the rest of the week —
Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted — quite unsuccessfully —
To love all of our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away,
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long.
The Christmas Feast is already a fading memory,
And already the mind begins to be vaguely aware
Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension at the thought
Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot, after all, now
Be very far off.

Read it all (my emphasis).

Gloria in eccelsis deo, cries the angel silently. Stolen by the mafia in 1969, never recovered, alas! Caravaggio's late great Adoration of the shepherds. pic.twitter.com/KHMl5jeuxh

— Dr. Peter Paul Rubens (@PP_Rubens) December 26, 2023

Give us grace, O God, to love thee in all things and above all things, that following the example of thy servant Elizabeth Ann Seton we might express our love for thee in the service of others. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.

Today the Episcopal Church commemorates Elizabeth Ann Seton, Vowed Religious and Educator, 1821

Founder of the Sisters of Charity, the 1st community of sisters est. in the U.S., & 1st native-born U.S. citizen to be canonised by the Roman Catholic Church

Image: Public Domain pic.twitter.com/uMcONe38Iu

— The Anglican Church in St Petersburg (@anglicanspb) January 4, 2024

O Lord our God, who didst manifest thy love toward us by sending thine only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him : Grant us, by thy Holy Spirit, the precious gift of faith, whereby we may know that the Son of God has come; and help us to join our praises with the song of the heavenly host: Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill towards men.

With this beautiful mural of the birth of Jesus Christ from the Byzantine Monastery of St. Mary, Goranxi, #Argyrocastro, I want to wish you a Merry Christmas!#καλάχριστούγεννα pic.twitter.com/XN5uRCHq4X

— North Epirus (@tisellados) December 24, 2022

When all the nation had finished passing over the Jordan, the Lord said to Joshua, “Take twelve men from the people, from each tribe a man, and command them, ‘Take twelve stones from here out of the midst of the Jordan, from the very place where the priests’ feet stood, and carry them over with you, and lay them down in the place where you lodge tonight.’” Then Joshua called the twelve men from the people of Israel, whom he had appointed, a man from each tribe; and Joshua said to them, “Pass on before the ark of the Lord your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, that this may be a sign among you, when your children ask in time to come, ‘What do those stones mean to you?’ Then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the Lord; when it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial for ever.”

–Joshua 4:1-7

#Brighton sunrise @ThePhotoHour @StormHour pic.twitter.com/ymNaNwl2Vx

— Stephen Royle (@Steveontour1) January 4, 2024