Nativity 13

The Son of His Voice The daughters of the Hebrews at his laments summoned Jeremiah in place of the lamentations of their writings; the types of the consolations from their books—a hidden power within their words was being arrayed. The sign: from all that I fashioned for you, praise at this your time. For they cried out and said, "Rejoice, O day! Show in a child that here is the son of her daughter, like the salt of life that descended to season." The mother of his mother, the blessed old woman, crushes the head of the serpent that struck her. Your type was confirmed from his childhood, that of Isaac, the beautiful one, in you his image. Sarah, who saw that your mysteries were loosed over his childhood—or the son of the threshing-floor, who concealed within himself the Lord of the threshing-floors. The fierce Samson pressed her type; the strength of your might rejoiced the lion. The one who subdued the jaws of death—you fashioned him, and from her you brought forth the sweet life of her bitterness. Again, your beloved became a type in you; even for Samuel, your hiddenness was concealed in him, that he might rejoice over Agag, as one clothed in you over Saul, that your goodness might be fashioned in him. How lowly you are! How mighty you are! O Son, your Father is mighty! Your love is sweet; who can find that over you your Father stands in heaven, and your mother on earth, who suckles you? If I wish to seek your hidden nature, behold, in heaven it is in the great mystery of divinity; and if I wish to seek your manifest body, behold, it is cast and confined within the small womb of Mary. Behold, your nature is between the two extremes of your lineages. O rich one, simple captives, in your divinity, scattered visions.

In your poverty you made your voice small, the great sea that diminished itself. You came that they might see you as God; behold, in the head you came that they might see you. As for the voiceless, a tree grew for him, that your divinity might make small and stand upon your changes—or is it true? [You came that they might see] the dwelling of your tent. From the house of David, Uriah is the heir; from his bridal chambers, the cave is your tent; from his palaces, a stable instead of his chariot. A lowly manger reaches you; make small and believe that you are his heir. To the throne of David you went that you might sit, and the heaven cried out from you, and the earth beneath, after you sat, bowed before you, a hidden power. How bold you are, the cunning one over all! You cast yourself upon all who met you; behold, you laugh at all who saw you; behold, you mock what your love is like, as one who bowed to the poor. You do not distinguish between your fathers and strangers, nor between your mother and other women, nor between your nurse and the impure; your shamelessness is like, or your love is that which loves all. How you disturb all who saw you! You cast yourself upon the rich and upon the poor; in the same way you seize, though they did not call you—from where did you come, that thus you bowed to the poor? Make small your love, that it may be in the voiceless. You do not become angry even if one cries out at you; you are not haughty even if one is ashamed at you; you are not embittered; you are great like that from the law that repays debts, humble, lowly, and harsh in his error, who struck and killed even Elisha, who revived the lad, the staff of youths.

In the forests you scattered, O child, you who are great, your love from the mountains. That son of Hagar, who was a wild ass, in his silence bore Isaac and was quiet, and his mother buried his secret. Or is that your type? To Isaac you are likened, or is it that he is like you?