By Michael Pakaluk.

But first a note: Be sure to tune in tonight - Thursday, March 13th at 8 PM Eastern - to EWTN for a new episode of the Papal Posse on 'The World Over.' TCT Editor-in-Chief Robert Royal and contributor Fr. Gerald E. Murray will join host Raymond Arroyo to discuss Pope Francis' ongoing health crisis and its implications, the status of the case against disgraced former Jesuit Marko Rupnik, Washington D.C. protests against Cardinal Robert McElory - as well as other issues in the global Church. Check your local listings for the channel in your area. Shows are usually available shortly after first airing on the EWTN YouTube channel.

Now for today's column...

The earliest day that Ash Wednesday can fall is February 4th. The Christmas season most liberally construed lasts until Candlemas, the Feast of the Presentation, on February 2nd. Therefore, it would be possible for the Christmas season to go directly into Lent with just one day in between, Mardi Gras. This is not common. The last time it happened was 1818, and the next will be 2285. In any case, we see that it is possible for Christmas and Lent to be conjoined but impossible for them to overlap.

This fact is important, I think, and I believe it is by design. Because the arrangement gives due place to the two great mysteries of our faith, while keeping them distinct: the mystery of the Incarnation and the mystery of the Passion - that of the birth of the Lord, with all its consequences, and that of his death, which is our redemption.

If we ponder the liturgical year as potentially compressed in this way, then the Church gives us about two months to ponder the Incarnation, followed by another two to ponder the Passion - and then the rest of the year, after celebrating Easter, to live in the newness of life in Christ. The seasons of Christmas and Easter are made for each other, even when some weeks of "ordinary time" usually separate them.

The liturgical year interpreted in this way presents us with what we might call the "sacramental gospel." The sacramental gospel thinks of the Good News as something that God did to human nature and the entire human race. Divinity interacted with humanity and did not leave it the same. He took our nature. Having taken our nature, by dying he paid a price on our behalf.

This sacramental gospel is as it were the antithesis of "Jesus the great moral teacher." It can be preached without preaching any "great moral teachings," as in the Creed: for us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven. . .was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man. For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate, he suffered death and was buried. The Creed in one sentence asserts the Incarnation and in the next the Passion, conjoined mysteries yet distinct. It is human flesh that is assumed in the womb, human flesh that is buried.

What about the biography of Christ? Does it show a similar structure, divided between the two mysteries? At first, one would say no. He spent thirty years in a hidden life, and one week giving himself over to suffering and death. Simply in terms of length of time, in the life of Christ, the Incarnation seems the dominant mystery.

And yet metaphysically the Incarnation was for the sake of the Passion: "And she shall bring forth a son: and thou shalt call his name Jesus. For he shall save his people from their sins." (Matthew 1:21) Indeed, one Gospel writer, Mark, starts with the John the Baptist, omitting anything about the Nativity, after which his narrative rushes with increasing speed to Our Lord's capture and death.

But Matthew sees the division and the complementarity. Peter's profession, "You are the Christ," if one counts Greek words or verses, is found at almost exactly the half-way point. It is as if the first half of Matthew's Gospel is an argument that "Christ" means God incarnate - with its various accounts of angels, magi, healings, and authoritative law-giving - while the second half explains what ...