The Sights and Sounds of Christmas:
Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence, c. Third Century

Let all mortal flesh keep silence,

and with fear and trembling stand;

ponder nothing earthly-minded,

for with blessing in his hand,

Christ our God to earth descendeth,

our full homage to demand.

King of kings, yet born of Mary,

as of old on earth he stood,

Lord of lords, in human vesture,

in the body and the blood;

he will give to all the faithful

his own self for heavenly food.

At his feet the six-winged seraph,

cherubim, with sleepless eye,

veil their faces to the presence,

as with ceaseless voice they cry:

Alleluia, Alleluia,

Alleluia, Lord Most High!

“Christ our God to earth descendeth.” The Incarnation establishes a new presence of God among us. Jesus Christ, the eternal Son of the Father, comes to us as a little babe, wherein the “the fullness of God dwells bodily” (Col 2:9). On the one hand, God is already present everywhere, isn’t he? And on the other, the seraphim and cherubim do not “veil their faces to the presence” just everywhere. So what exactly is this new presence among us that evokes our “fear and trembling”?

Saint Thomas Aquinas describes God’s presence among creatures in a variety of ways (ST I, q. 8, a. 3). First, he is omnipresent by his essence, presence, and power. God’s creative act, his knowledge of creatures, and his governance of the world touch all things, and because of this connection, God is present there. Without God’s presence in these ways, creatures would cease to exist. From the highest of the blessed in heaven to the lowest and most mundane dust of the earth, things exist only because God is willing to be close to us. Beyond this universal presence, God can make himself present in special ways as well. To intellectual creatures, God can give himself as an object of our knowing and loving. That is to say, by pouring faith and charity into our hearts, God makes himself present in us, dwelling in us as in a temple.

There is another kind of presence of God, to which the angels veil their faces in homage and adoration. This presence is not merely by causation, or even the sublime gift of divine indwelling. The personal being of the Son unites to himself a human nature, so that the man Jesus does not just possess grace to an eminent degree; rather, Jesus is truly God. The King of kings and Lord of lords himself comes to us, taking on a human nature. The infant in the manger is not merely a sign of God’s presence. Jesus is God, the Incarnate Word.

The mystery of the Nativity is outwardly a gentle and clandestine affair, but it is also the divine majesty’s grand invasion into earthly, human life. “In human vesture,” our Lord appears ordinary, a Nazarean among Nazareans. But by the light of faith, we can penetrate this mystery. Jesus is not just another man among men. This infant born of the Blessed Virgin is God himself, the Eternal Son, whose infinite personal dignity calls for a response no less than heartfelt worship. “Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Lord Most High!”

✠

Image: Nativity and Concert of Angels from the Isenheim Altarpiece, Matthias Grünewald