How the Lord Sent Christmas

Listen, my friends, and you will hear
 a Christmas story that has no peer.
It’s better than Grinches and Scrooges and elves;
 it’s better than any Christmas book on your shelves.
It’s an ancient story but in 60s terms, groovy;
 why, it’s even better than a Hallmark movie.

It begins not in Nazareth or Bethlehem, oh no;
 it begins higher up, up in heaven, you know.
Where God lives and God reigns and God looks from above
 at a sinful people with whom He’s in love.
“I must get this fixed.  They can’t fix it alone.
 The time’s right to send Jesus: God in flesh and bone.”
This was no last second thought on God’s part, don’t you see?
 God knew all along when the right time would be
  to send Jesus to save folks like you and like me.

Though Jesus has always existed in heaven,
 God didn’t send him at age thirty or twenty or sixteen or seven.
Jesus didn’t come full-grown and in charge;
 He came as a baby and one not so large.
Was he six pounds or seven or eight pounds or nine?
 We don’t know what he weighed, any weight would be fine.
It’s the fact that he came, that he crossed the line,
 from heaven to earth through normal childbirth.
He came, that’s what matters, that’s what matters the most.
 He came down from heaven to his missionary post.

He came as the God-Man; yes, it’s hard to imagine:
 fully God, fully man?  But it really did happen.
John in his Gospel called Jesus the Word, eternal, forever;

 don’t think it absurd.
This is Trinity at work: Father, Son, Holy Spirit;
 existing as one though each does his thing,
  and Son’s thing was to come to the earth and to bring
   God down to our level, God down from the sky,
    God we could see without having to die.
The Godhead among us, God we could touch, hear, and see;
   God with a human family tree:
  with ancestors like Abraham, David, and Ruth,
   and Adam and Rahab—yes, this is the truth.

So when the time was just right, God sent word to Mary:
 a teenage peasant who found it quite scary
  when an angel named Gabriel gave her the news,
   news that she first thought she had to refuse:
news that a Savior would come through her womb,
 a Savior named Jesus—God’s Son and a king?
“Have faith,” said the angel, “God can do this thing.”

But Mary, you know, she wasn’t so sure:
 the shock of it all; it all seemed a blur.
So she spoke to the angel, honest and true;
 maybe this angel just had no clue.
“I’m a virgin, you know, never been with a man;
 you’re an angel, so how could you understand?
Things work different down here, down here on the earth;
   it’s impossible for a virgin girl to give birth.”

“It’s not up to you,” Gabriel said with a smile.
 He was kind when he said it; he wasn’t hostile.
“The Holy Spirit will do this, don’t you see?
 He’ll overshadow you and pregnant you’ll be.
Don’t think it impossible; put away your doubt.
 God can do anything, you’ll soon find out.”

And sure enough Mary became pregnant, all right.
 But what to tell Joseph?
  This could start a fight.
Joseph was pledged to be married to Mary,
 but that day hadn’t come and Mary was pregnant,
  soon it would show,
and Joseph wasn’t ignorant.
He’d figure it out, he’d know right away:
 that wasn’t his child, no way.
He’d have to assume that Mary had cheated,
 had broken the pledge, from her vows had retreated,
She’d found some new man;
poor Joseph felt defeated.

But Joe was a kind man, he didn’t want trouble,
 He’d end things with Mary
  before people started to mumble and grumble
   and gossip and talk
    and point and sneer
     and go so far as to wreck his career.
He’d end things with Mary; he’d be quiet and discreet.
 He’d be respectful and kind; he’d try to be sweet.
So he made up his mind, “Tomorrow, we’ll meet.”