Sermons 116

That St. Maximus had far more orations on the Nativity of the Lord than are contained in the Taurinensis codex is clear from the fact that in that same codex the number of them is noted as 35. Part of them we have published among the homilies; another part we have transferred into this class; the rest are scattered, or have been consumed by antiquity. This sermon is reckoned by that same Taurinensis codex as no. 4, with this title: 'Likewise a homily IV on the Nativity of the Lord.' It is confirmed by the testimony of Maximus in codex 99 of Santa Croce in Gerusalemme, no. 13, whose superscription is: 'On the Nativity of the Lord and Savior,' and of the Bobbio codex. The Benedictine monks of the congregation of St. Maur, in the Paris edition of the Works of St. Ambrose, year

1690, had placed this sermon before the preceding one, noting that part of it was taken from Ambrose's own Commentary on Luke, book 2, no. 50. But since they recognized that the form or character of the diction of both parts suited Maximus more than Ambrose, they therefore acknowledged that it was permissible to assign it to the holy bishop of Turin. Nor does it in any way impair their genuineness that St. Maximus interpreted the sacred Scriptures according to the mind of Ambrose or Augustine; we have already said that the later Fathers received much from their elders. By what thanks or with what praises we should proclaim this day of the Lord's nativity, I am utterly at a loss to know. For in so great a festival human speech does not suffice to magnify God.

For if then, when Christ was being born, He was praised by the voice of angels, with what human voice is He now to be praised when He reigns? For our solemnity surpasses the festival of that time; since then they marveled at Him only as being born, but we receive Him being born, likewise rising again, and reigning. So much the more abundant, therefore, ought the praise of this time to be, as the miracles are greater. But since human frailty cannot render worthy proclamation, let us betake ourselves to the heralding of the angels. And because we cannot deservedly equal them, let us accompany them in devotion; that is, in that festival, with the same joy as they, let us leap up in the same sentiment, saying:

'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will' (Luke 2). A worthy and just sentiment indeed, which at the Nativity of Christ both represents honor to God in the heavens and presents peace to men on earth. For before the birth of the Savior neither did the heavenly things retain their reverence, nor did the earthly things possess rest. But see what the sentiment itself says: 'Peace to men of good will.' Not to men of any kind whatsoever, but to men of good will; that you may understand that the peace of Christ is not of debt but of merit; for it is not one's condition that earns it, but one's will. This the shepherds, who on that night kept watch over their flock as the Lord was being born, first of all heard before all others.

They themselves, first before all men, came to know the Savior's birth, the angels intimating it. For the angels first announced the redemption of the world not to kings, not to judges, but to rustic men. And no wonder if innocence knew Christ's grace before power did; and if simple rusticity came to know the truth sooner than proud dignity. For what the shepherds came to know, the princes could not come to know; whence the blessed Apostle also says: 'Whom none of the princes of this age knew' (1 Cor. 2), and the rest. Therefore at the Nativity of the Lord the angels rejoiced together with the shepherds, declaring lofty glory to God. For with choirs, as it were, neighboring and joined, they proclaimed the glory of God.

Whence I also believe that those same angels rejoice with us in a like nearness of joy at the festival of the same Lord. For those who are wont, on account of Christ's birth, to address the shepherds, cannot but seek out the priests on account of the joy of the same Christ. Indeed, even the fact that they then spoke to those keeping watch over their flock in the dead of night designated the mystery of this present time. For by that deed this surely was shown: that the flock is the people, the night is the world, the priests are the shepherds who, watching with continual solicitude over the people for Christ's sake, are by no means deserted by the angels. On this present day therefore the Lord was born according to the flesh, so secretly, so silently, that the world was utterly ignorant of His birth.

For the world was ignorant, because He was both conceived beyond the knowledge of a father and born beyond the order of nature. For Joseph received as his own a son whom he did not beget; Mary brought forth an offspring whom she did not create by the wont of sex. Thus therefore was the Lord born, that no one supposed His birth would come to pass, no one believed it, no one perceived it. How should they believe this would come to pass, which, after it has come to pass, they scarcely believe has been done? For that the Savior would descend into the Virgin so hiddenly and secretly the prophet David had already testified beforehand, saying: 'He shall come down like rain upon the fleece' (Ps. 71). For what is done so silently and without noise as when rain is poured into the fleece of wool? It beats no one's ears with sound.

It sprinkles no one's body with the moisture of any rebound; but without disturbing anyone, it draws into itself the whole shower, poured out through manifold parts, throughout its whole body, knowing no cleft of a single passage, offering by its solid softness many passages; and what seems closed by its density is open by its fineness. Rightly therefore is Mary compared to a fleece, who so conceived the Lord that she drew Him in with her whole body, and did not suffer any rending of her body; but was soft for obedient service, solid for holiness. Rightly, I say, is Mary compared to a fleece, from whose fruit garments of salvation are woven for the peoples.

Mary is plainly a fleece, since from her soft bosom went forth the Lamb, who Himself also, bearing the wool of His mother—that is, His flesh—covers with a soft fleece the wounds of the sins of all. For every wound of sin is suffused with Christ's wool, is warmed with Christ's blood, and, that it may receive healing, is clothed with Christ's garment.