The Christmas Star:

A Meditation on the Incarnation

Inspired by Fulton J. Sheen and the reflections of December 1957

“Christmas is the most popular season of the Western world. But it is also one in which almost everyone celebrates the feast without knowing the meaning of the festival. If Christmas were just the birthday of a great teacher, like Socrates or Buddha, it would never have split time into two, so that all history before the advent of Christ is called B.C. and all history after, A.D. which means ‘The Year of the Lord.’” – Bishop Sheen Writes, December 1957.

Fulton J. Sheen once observed: “Bethlehem is not the house of a man, but the house of God. The crib is the meeting place of heaven and earth, where time itself is divided, and eternity enters history.”

Christmas is not merely the commemoration of a wise teacher—it is the Incarnation of the Eternal Word. The star that shone over Bethlehem was not a decoration in the sky, but a cosmic proclamation: history itself has been split, because God has entered His own creation.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” (Isaiah 9:2)

“When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.” (Matthew 2:10)

The Star and the Cry

The cry of Bethlehem was gentle, hidden, easily missed. The star of Bethlehem was luminous, visible, and guiding. Together they reveal the paradox of the Incarnation: God speaks both in whispers and in wonders, both in humility and in majesty.

The shepherds heard the cry. The Wise Men followed the star. Both found Divinity in a crib.

The star itself is paradox:

Ordinary, yet extraordinary.

Distant, yet near.

Silent, yet eloquent.

It shines not for its own glory, but to lead seekers to the Child.

The Child’s Tongue and the Poetic Christmas Word

One of Sheen’s favorite poets Francis Thompson’s Ex Ore Infantium breaks silence with tender wonder, reminding us that the Child of Bethlehem was not only the Eternal Word but also truly little, truly human, truly near:

“Little Jesus, wast Thou shy

 Once, and just so small as I?

And what did it feel like to be

 Out of Heaven, and just like me?”

The star declares majesty; the poem whispers humility. Together they cast light downward into the intimacy of the crib.

“Hadst Thou ever any toys,

 Like us little girls and boys?

And did Thy Mother let Thee spoil

 Thy robes, with playing on OUR soil?”

The cosmic proclamation of Sheen —Bethlehem as the meeting place of heaven and earth— finds its echo in Thompson’s childlike questions. The One who made the heavens now shares the smallness of childhood.

“So, a little Child, come down

 And hear a child’s tongue like Thy own;

Take me by the hand and walk,

 And listen to my baby-talk.”

Here the paradox deepens. The star proclaims divinity to the nations, while the cry of the Child invites intimacy to every heart. Sheen’s theology and Thompson’s poetry converge: the Incarnation is both cosmic and personal, both history-splitting and tenderly human.

Reflective Refrains

The star still shines… guiding seekers to the Child.

The cry still whispers… reminding us God remembers what it feels like to be small.

The poem still sings… teaching us to pray with a child’s tongue.

The shepherds heard the cry. The Wise Men followed the star. Thompson teaches us to listen with innocence, while Sheen reminds us to see with cosmic vision. Both lead us to the same place: the crib, where Divinity dwells in humility.

Closing Paradox

The star shines in the heavens, but the true Light is found in the crib. The cry echoes in weakness, but the true Word is heard in baby-talk. Majesty above, mercy below—both proclaim the Child who is God-with-us — Immanuel.

Christmas means this: the Eternal Word has entered history. And in that Child, life itself finds its meaning.

 “The star still shines…” 

J.M.J.

Prayerfully penned and composed by G.C. Stevenson

Advent 2025 Series — Word & Witness