Recently, I read some of the work of the British writer William Morris, who lived and died in the last half of the nineteenth century.  If you are familiar with the writer J. J. R. Tolkien, you may like knowing that Morris's thinking exercised a significant impact on him. In his reflections on his craft, Morris talked about the notion of a Second World (Tolkien discussed this, too).  This is a world apart from present reality, a world completely unto itself, a self-contained world with its own laws, beliefs, and reality:  a world of fantasy. Tolkien's famous Lord of the Rings trilogy is a case in point.  Those familiar with this remarkable work know that Tolkien presents its events in a world that he has created and which has no connection to the world the rest of us occupy.  It's a fantasy world.
     Although we could make all kinds of parallels with other things with this, I mention it in relation to, predictably, the supernatural.  Part of the reason some of us have trouble grasping or accepting the supernatural is that it appears to function in a way that seems at odds with the world to which we are accustomed.  It does not always evidence a credible connection to what we currently know.  The perfunctory response to this is of course, "Well, one must have faith."
     While no doubt this is ultimately true, if it is all that is true, then we are left with intimations of a world that we will never really know.  It's easy to reject the validity of such a world:  of what value can it possibly be to us?
     On the other hand, if the Second World, e.g., the supernatural is accessible to us, its credibility magnifies considerably.  We can know it, feel it, hear it, and see it in our experience.  We connect.
     This is the message of Advent, this is the story of Christmas.  The Second World becomes the First.