On my first Christmas Eve as a newly-ordained pastor, I stood at the pulpit looking out at the gathered congregation in the soft glow of candlelight, basking in the “jolly holly” feel that I had known all my life on Christmas Eve.
Then I really looked out at the congregation. And saw Cathy, whose young husband had dropped dead just a few short months ago, leaving her with three young children. And Cheryl, whose husband walked out on her one day. Just left her to run the farm herself. And Victor, who had to put his mother in a nursing home, and sell the family home. Everyone had a story and a heartache. And a need to understand who this Christ is and what is this peace that we sing about. And what are we doing in church on Christmas Eve?
Decades later, I finally wrote this poem. For them. And all the others since. And maybe even for the Church. And for you.
The full poem is available as a PDF document. The first few lines of the poem are below:
Christmas is contradiction and wonder soft candle-light and fear Christmas goes deep into the dark, yet we search for it in glitter, and we decorate with tinsel the tears of those left behind those left out those left alone.