Incarnational

Around this time last year, I decided that I couldn't be a serious Catholic blogger if I ignored Christmas. So, I present to you my second annual Christmas post on the Feast of the Holy Innocents.

Today, Father accidentally referred to the Octave which we are currently celebrating as the "Octave of Easter." He was a few months off. However, it served as a reminder of the connection between the two Holy Days.

When we decorated for Christmas, we took the crucifix off the wall in the living room. I was not a huge fan of this decision. (As much as I hate the fights Christians have over externals, such as art work, I fall into miniature versions at home. Not cool, Beth.) Christmas can be fluffy and full of cozy visions of the Christ-Child in a warm manger... but then it is missing something. It is missing the rest of the story of the Incarnation, a story that carried through the life and ministry of Jesus, that continued through the Last Supper, the Passion, Death, and Resurrection, and did not end at the Ascension, but lives on in the Church today. It's a rich and textured story that draws together a baby wrapped with love and a man stripped naked without compassion. It draws together a stable and a hilltop. A cross and a crib. A Savior... and sinners who are becoming saints.