Saturday, December 24, 2016

a new matins

O strange feast and scandalous sacrament, that history should bear the weight of her author, written in a margin. Blessed is the insignificant century whose years bore the God-man.

O cosmic riddle and salvific joke, that evolution should have marched past the carpenter's son in His own crib. Blessed is the universe made newly-ordered to the rhythm of his cross.

O sheer gift and utter blessing, that Love would dare to enter into time. Blessed is even the death that touched Him from His birth.

O terrible God and Lord beyond our minds, that the impassible enters temporality. Blessed are the baffled minds who still believe.

O purest light and kindest Savior, that shocking love should come to live with us here. Blessed is this truth, too beautiful to be false.

Irrational marvel! and mystifying sign, that all the meaning in the universe lies here in the manger. Blessed are the few and tired eyes who saw his sacred feet. Alleluia.

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