Nativity 3

Again upon the sound of the sea in its waves. Blessed is that birth which on this day gave joy to the house of bread. Blessed is that child who on this day gave light to the darkness. Blessed is that fruit which bowed its head to the thorns. Blessed is that good one who, from the silent one, enriched all our need and filled our poverty. Blessed is he whose mercies were stretched out to heal our sickness. [Refrain: Blessed is our Lord, whose birth gave light to our darkness.] Thanks to the spring which was sent for our forgiveness. Thanks to him who set the Sabbath in his fullness. Thanks to him who was pure in leprosy and did not remain. His sight also the fire saw and was ashamed. Thanks to the sinner who carried his cross. Glory to your coming which gave life to the dead. Glory to him who came to us by his firstborn. Glory to the silent one who spoke by his voice. Glory to the high one who was seen by his lowliness. Glory to the Spirit who consented that his power be felt in that body which she bore, and that in that body bodies of his kind live. Glory to the hidden one who became revealed when he gave birth. Glory to the living one who begot a dead one. Glory to the great one who begot a son who descended and became small. Glory to the mighty one who formed for himself an image of his greatness and a likeness of his hiddenness, by eye and contemplation, seeing him in both. Glory to the hidden one whom not even by contemplation can those who seek him fully feel, yet he is felt in his goodness through the hand of darkness. A nature that does not cease to be moved.

His hands bound and fettered, his feet fixed and nailed. His will of his own accord clothed him for his fellows. Blessed is he whose freedom crucified him, which he gave to her. Blessed is he who also made the wood cease, his taste. Blessed is he who also made the grave contain him, which was hidden. Blessed is he whose will is his own, for the womb and birth, for the rock and upbringing. Blessed is he whose changes gave life to the mother of the living. Blessed is he who marked himself, and fixed, and compelled her. Blessed is he who made his body a tent for his covering. Blessed is he who, by clothing himself, translated his secrets. Confess that voice which was sung. His glory in the lyre and his power in the cithara. Peoples were moved and came to the sound of his strings. Glory to the good son whom they stoned among the evil. Glory to the suffering son whom they crucified among the crooked. Glory to him who was loosed and was bound in place of all. Glory to him who stood surety and himself paid. Glory to the beautiful one who cried out in his forms. Glory to the pure one who did not look at the stains. Glory to him who sowed his light in the darkness, and was covered by the helps that hide his secrets, and sent, took away the garment of stains. Glory to the high one who mixes his salt in the thoughts, his measure in the souls. His body became bread that gives life to our deadness. Thanks to the rich one who flew in place of all. Something that was not due, he wrote and owed to you again. His beast broke the teeth of the deceiver. Glory to the judge who was judged, and placed his twelve for the judgment of the tribes.

And guilty with the bonds are the scribes of that people. Glory to him who, from a foundation that is not moved, measured. A small heart was to him, and also a weak mind. He makes his smallness manifest in the wealth of his separations. Glory to the knower of all who was cast down, and asked that he might hear, and learned that he might know, that in his questions the deposit of his glories might be revealed. Worship the one who illuminated the mind with his teaching, and who trod a path in the hearing of his words. Confess the one who made his fruit taste sweet in the ears. Thank the one who sent his heir, through whom his hunters grew fat, and also his inheritance with him. Thank that good one, the cause of all goods. Blessed is he who did not hide because he was good. Blessed is he who did not become dark because he was also dark. Blessed is he who was silent and hid the light in both of them. Strong is his silence and his hiding. Tender is his strength, even when he was contending, that he hid the bitterness and gave the sweetness. Glory to the hidden worker of thought. His seed fell in the earth and enriched the pasture. Her cause came in a hundred to the treasury of souls. Worship the one who sat and was at rest, who walked within the way, and the way was in the way, and the gates to the little ones who entered through him into the kingdom. Blessed is the shepherd who became a lamb for the sake of mercy. Blessed is the near one who became a cup of salvation. Blessed also is the little bird, the giver of life. Blessed is he also, the farmer who became the grain that was sown and the ear that was reaped. The architect who became a tower for the house of the sanctuary.

Blessed is he who mounted the senses of the shepherds, that he might sing in the mouth of a thing that is not able. The mouth of the flying one that sang with his strings. Glory to him who saw and was willing, that he might be likened to beasts in their wrath and their stubbornness, and descended from that which he is to become the heavens. Glory to him from whom a foundation that is not moved measured, and a small heart was to him, and also a weak mind. He makes his smallness manifest in the wealth of his fruit in the time of his weakness, that in him the trap of that one who set his trap against them might be broken. In the fruit of the root, taste its power. Confess to him who swallowed and gave life by his silence. Confess to him who took the curse in his hands. Confess to him who put death to death by his mortality. Confess to him who was silent and conquered. Confess to him who cried out in the death that had swallowed him. Blessed is he whose limbs made the left hand empty. Praise him who kept vigil and put the robber to sleep. Praise him who slept and awakened the righteous. Glory to the God, the physician of weakness. Glory to him who baptized and submerged the mind in the depth, and set the deep one in his place. Praise with all mouths the Lord of all kinds. Blessed is the physician who descended and cut without pain, and healed the wounds with a medicine that is not strong. His birth was a medicine that avails for sinners. Blessed is he who dwelt in a womb and in it built a temple that he might dwell in it, a vessel that he might be in it, a garment that he might clothe himself in it, and a weapon that he might conquer in it. Blessed is he whom no mouth is sufficient to confess, for his gift is greater than that of the speakers.

And the senses of the shepherds are not sufficient for his grace. For how small was the shepherd to him, and because he did not help that he might be silent and be still, the weakness of the flock of his confession shall repay the might of the one who does not demand more than his power. How is your servant known in the cold and the damp, who did not give that it might be sufficient and darkened that it might be indebted? The sea of praise that is not limited receives in your grace the drop of confession that is cast in your gift for the tongue of your praise. Finished.