Christmas Poem

21 Dec

Christmas is the Gospel overture
The birth of a Baby in a Shack out back
On the other side of the tracks

A Baby: naked, defenseless, vulnerable, unarmed
So ordinary, nothing spectacular
Noticed by a few bum shepherds

Of course, the Gospel story fleshes out this pattern
The Baby grows up
Hangs out with outcasts
Feeds the losers
Even forgives the normal, regular, everyday, sinful person
While threatening the powers-that-be

So the ones-in-charge nail the Grown Up One to a bulletin board
Advertising, “Don’t mess with us, or this will happen to you!”
Jesus dies: naked, humiliated, rejected, defenseless, vulnerable, unarmed
The overture fleshed out

Dying He  cries,

“Father, forgive them, they know not what they do. Amen”

His birth foreshadowed His death
Noticed by a few
Yet… remembered by many
Because He rose from the dead

The triumph of Love

Merry Christmas!


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