I can't help feeling there is something somewhat sad about the fact that in Birmingham city centre Christmas was pretty much already over before it had even really begun, Having been trying to cultivate an artificial Christmassy-feel from long before anyone in their right mind should have wanted to be thinking about Christmas; by the time it actually arrived, there was a sense it was already all over. With the dismantling of the Christmas markets at the beginning of the week, and preparations for boxing day sales well under way before the end of Wednesday, it seems we may have forgotten what all this build up was actually for ...
But in my book it is still very definitely Christmas... in fact, it's only just begun! So here it is, this year's Christmas poem, (with thanks to my students at St Chad's Sanctuary for the inspiration).
A scared and tired father
A woman pregnant and in pain
An uncertain future for an unborn child
Who’ll face anger, exclusion, and disdain
Behind a census of statistics
We still hide the human face
Of a desperation that dares to dream -
That begs of another, grace.
But that one who said he had nothing,
There’s nothing here left to give
Was it in putting a face to a number he knew
You deserved not just to survive but to live?
And when he stretched an open hand
Did God’s kingdom touch this earth?
And is this still an incarnation moment
When we dare believe in the other’s worth?
When we smile ‘come in and welcome’
To those whose lives are tattered and torn
In these the tiniest glimmers of hope –
Each day anew the Messiah is born.