Questioning Christmas Signs

Playing with the ideas of shock and awe about what we say we believe about Christmas.  I don’t know about some people, but I get off track this season easily. I stop being a fool for Christ and really just end up being a fool for self.  This is a ditty really, not a poem, but perhaps  a way to start making myself focus on Christ-Mass and maybe jump start an old brain too used to watching “the Hallmark-approved show” and forgetting the nitty gritty of a God who loved “a worm like I” by becoming one.

Questioning Christmas Signs

By Jane Tawel

December 11, 2015

And this will be a sign to you

A Savior born among goat poo?

And this will be what angels sing

A Jew who will become a King?

And shepherds who are dirty, dumb

Will be the Savior’s first welcome?

What right had she to wear a ring?

This unwed mother bears a King?

A family traveling penniless

Without a forwarding address

Will flee from kings and diatribes—

To Him a crown you will ascribe?

This sort of thing seems lunacy

When asked to worship this baby;

Despite the rumor of Wisemen three

How could I think this child Christly?

And once I heard the end of it,

None of his story even fit,

A man who claimed to be a god

Lashed with whips and beat with rods?

His stupid followers even thought

That he was raised and rolled a rock

To escape hell and reign with God,

Don’t you think too– he was a fraud?

I look around at Christmas time

And wait in endless shopping lines;

I buy and buy and buy and buy

And never once do I ask why?

Why I believe in Santa Claus

And all the season’s fake hooplas,

But cannot find a good reason

To worship Jesus as God’s son?

I worship Yuletide’s dollars and cents

But a swaddled King is pure nonsense.

Or am I living upside down?

And should really kneel before the Crown

Of the babe who came and lived and died

To take us as His holy bride?

In the manger scene, am I really the ass?

To question Holy true Christ Mass?

donkey

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