In course of time the divergence between the Roman and Frankish uses became noticeable and gave rise to confusion. Amalarius remarks: In all missals and lectionaries there are five Sundays in Advent, but in the Antiphoner there are only three offices and a Dominica vacans, and the Gregorian missal has only four Sundays in Advent. In support of five Sundays, it was urged that from the beginning of the world until the Christian era five of the seven ages of the world had passed. Even in the tenth century, opinions were expressed in favour of five weeks. It was urged that, according to the other practice, if Christmas fell on a Monday, Advent strictly speaking lasted only three weeks. Abbo of Fleury († 1004) is witness to the existence of a twofold practice in a later period.[357] In the eighth century, an Advent of four weeks was observed in France wherever Roman influence extended. Berno of Reichenau in his writings on Advent is only occupied with the question how to deal with the vigil of Christmas when the 25th December falls on a Monday. The Micrologus does not mention an Advent season of five weeks, nor does Beleth.[358] A deviation from this custom appears in the Milanese and Mozarabic rites which prescribe a duration of six weeks for Advent, thus bringing it into conformity in this respect with Lent.

At first Advent was regarded merely as a time for penance and mortification in the same way as Lent. On this account, it was widely observed as a time of fasting, although the Church had nowhere so ordered it. Later on, again, Advent was regarded as a type or memorial of the Old Testament or the time before Christ. However, the view that the four weeks of Advent typify the four thousand years from Adam to Christ, impressive as it is, finds no support from the Liturgy. On the contrary, the lections from Genesis in the Breviary begin in Septuagesima, while during Advent the lections are taken from the Prophet Isaias.

As far as the lections from Scripture are concerned, the Gospel for the second Sunday in Advent recounts our Lord’s Messianic labours, while His birth is only commemorated some two or three weeks later. The Gospel for the first Sunday speaks of the end of the world, not, as one would expect, of its creation. The mediæval lectionaries, moreover, replace St Luke xxi. 25 et seqq. on this Sunday with the Gospel Cum appropinquasset Jerusalem, etc. (St Matthew xxi. 1 et seqq.),[359] and the preceding Sunday is sometimes called Dominica in præparatione Adventus, or Dominica Quinta ante Natalem Domini, in which we see a remnant of the more ancient reckoning. The collects of the Mass express the hope of the Messias and the longing for His appearance.

We must also consider Christmas in connection with the festivals which follow in the course of the year, such as the Circumcision of our Lord, which, of course, falls on the eighth day after Christmas, the Octava Domini, the Epiphany, and Candlemas Day. Thus quite naturally, as it were, a cycle of festivals has grown up round Christmas Day.

We may also mention the Sunday in the Octave of Christmas with its Gospel giving the account of the meeting of Jesus and His parents with Simeon and Anna. The Gospel for the Sunday after New Year’s Day records the flight into Egypt. The Sundays after Epiphany form connecting links between Christmas and Easter, varying from two to six, according as Easter falls earlier or later. Only the two first Sundays have any distinctive character, the first commemorating the visit of our Lord to the Temple at the age of twelve years, and the second His first miracle at Cana of Galilee.[360] The remaining Sundays, along with Septuagesima and Sexagesima, do not commemorate any historical event in their lections from Scripture; Quinquagesima and the Sundays in Lent direct our attention to the approaching Passion. In the case of the Sundays three to six after Epiphany, this is intentional, since they are liable to be transferred from their proper place to the end of the year when necessary.

The Sunday in the Octave of Christmas, or, as it was formerly called, the Sunday after Christmas, has as its Gospel St Luke ii. 33-40, which gives the account of Simeon’s prophecy. Chronologically speaking, this passage comes before its time, for, in St Luke’s Gospel, it comes after the passage chosen as the Gospel for Candlemas (St Luke ii. 22-32), of which it forms the continuation. In the last verse (ii. 39), mention is made of the return from Jerusalem or Bethlehem to Nazareth. The events, however, which follow in the course of the Church’s year—the circumcision and the arrival of the Wise Men—must have happened before the return to Galilee.

3. The Octave of Christmas. The Circumcision. The New Year

Since Easter, after the example given by the Synagogue, was from the first observed with an octave, and, since Epiphany had its octave already in the eighth century, it was inevitable that Christmas should be provided with one also. Accordingly, the eighth day after Christmas bears the name Octava Domini (In Octavas Domini) in the Gelasian[361] and Gregorian sacramentaries, whence it may be inferred that it was not yet regarded as an independent festival and passed unnoticed if it fell on a week-day.

On the other hand, it was partially observed as a popular holiday, at least it gave occasion in many places for popular rejoicings,[362] being the day on which the Roman Calendar began a new year. In Ravenna it was marked by dancing and masquerades, against which Peter Chrysologus inveighed in his 155th Sermon. Since he forbids Christians to put in even an appearance at these entertainments, they must have been of an objectionable nature. It was the same in Gaul even in the sixth century and later. The second Council of Tours, and the Councils of Auxerre and Rouen (650) were compelled to forbid these rejoicings. With a view to counteracting their influence, the bishops exhorted the faithful to attend divine service on this day, and appointed somewhat earlier penitential processions (litaniæ) to be privately performed in atonement for the sins committed at this season.[363] In Spain, the eleventh canon of the fourth Council of Toledo commanded a strict fast and abstinence for the same object, and the Allelujah was omitted from the psalmody. In 650, a law of the Kings Recceswinth and Erwig made the Kalends of January a festival of obligation.[364] In Rome, in the eighth century, the people spent the nights dancing in the streets to the scandal of pilgrims from the north, as Boniface informed Pope Zacharias. These abuses lingered longest in France though divested of their heathen character. Late on in the Middle Ages, we find a remnant of them in the so-called Feast of Fools, at which ecclesiastical customs were travestied by the election of a Bishop of Fools and by all sorts of misconduct in the churches. Things became so bad that the papal legate, Cardinal Peter, felt compelled to order Odo, Bishop of Paris, to pronounce excommunication on all who took part in such proceedings. The bishop prohibited the abuse in the strongest manner in 1199, but in spite of repeated ecclesiastical censures, it continued on into the fifteenth century, as appears from a report of the theological faculty of Paris in 1444.[365]