Bernard of Clairvaux: Sermon for Christmas Eve (Full Text)
Introduction
Preached on the Vigil of the Nativity, this sermon by Bernard of Clairvaux invites the faithful into the stillness before Christ’s birth. Written in the twelfth century and preserved through centuries of monastic devotion, it reflects Bernard’s theology of humility, longing, and divine condescension. The following text is taken from The Sermons of St. Bernard on Advent and Christmas (translated by a Priest of Mount Melleray, London: Burns and Oates, 1886), lightly standardized for readability.
The Sermon
“The time is come,” says the Apostle, “for us to rise from sleep” (Romans 13:11). Let us arise, brethren, for the dawn is near. The night is far spent, the day is at hand; the Sun of Justice is about to rise, who enlightens every man that comes into the world. Already the day-star has gone up in our hearts; let us go forth to meet our Savior, for He is very near.
Let us watch this night in joy and praise, in thanksgiving and in love. The Virgin, heavy with child, is set upon her journey. She has gone forth from Nazareth; she hastens toward Bethlehem. There she will bring forth her Son, her firstborn. Let us go forth with her in spirit; let us accompany her with faith and devotion.
What more joyful sight, what sweeter thought, than to contemplate that wondrous meeting—God and man united in one Person, heaven and earth joined together, the Creator and His creature reconciled. On this night, the world’s long exile draws to an end; the gate of paradise, long shut, begins to open.
See how the Lord of majesty comes not in thunder, nor surrounded by angels, but clothed in our flesh. He comes as a child, small and weak, that He may draw near to the little and the lowly. He chooses to be born in a stable, to be laid in a manger, that none may fear to approach Him. Behold the humility of God! The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.
O wondrous exchange! The Creator takes on creation; the Lord of glory bears our infirmities; the King of angels comes among sinners. He who is rich becomes poor; He who is mighty becomes weak. What greater proof of love could He give? He descended that we might ascend; He entered our darkness that we might enter His light.
Therefore, dearly beloved, let us rejoice. Let us go forth to meet our Savior with songs and hymns. Let us rejoice with the angels, glorify with the shepherds, and adore with the Magi. Let every heart prepare a place for Him. Cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light. Let us love one another, for love is the likeness of God in which we were created.
This, brethren, is the great mystery of our faith—God made visible in the flesh, that man might be made spiritual in God. He who made all things has made Himself one of us. The Son of God became the Son of Man, that the sons of men might become the sons of God. He took on our nature that He might make us partakers of His.
What then shall we do? Let us love Him who has loved us so greatly. Let us humble ourselves with Him who humbled Himself for us. Let us be poor in spirit, that we may be rich in grace. Let us be meek and lowly in heart, that we may find rest for our souls. For He who was born this night is gentle and humble of heart.
Let us watch in hope and joy. The night is passing, the true light already shines. Soon the angels will proclaim peace, and heaven will rejoice over the earth restored. Let us be found watching, that when the Lord comes He may find us ready. May He who was born for us this night be born also in our hearts, and may His peace dwell within us forever.
Amen.
Closing Note
This text is presented from The Sermons of St. Bernard on Advent and Christmas (London: Burns and Oates, 1886), a public-domain translation, lightly standardized for clarity and punctuation.
