Pastor Aaron's Christmas Poem

’Twas Christmas program evening
for my youngest son
my boys’ shoes, coats, and gloves were on–
A victory hard won

Program started at seven
That’s what I thought
According to the paper
from school Kyle brought

As we piled in my car
at six forty-five
In my pocket I felt
my phone come alive

The screen flashed a message
My eyes playing tricks?
Kyle’s teacher wrote me, saying:
“We started at six…

“Are you all still coming?”
the message concluded.
“What the heck” I thought, glumly
I was deluded.

“Yes” I quickly responded
“We’ll be there ASAP”
I felt so embarrassed
I wanted to nap.

By the time we arrived there
the program was over
Kyle asked me, “When do I sing?”
My heart sank even lower.

His teacher greeted us saying,
“You forgot I said six?
Yes, the sheet said seven but
I told you to fix.”

I couldn't remember her
ever saying that.
But she probably had
I forget stuff. That’s a fact.

The families waited for us
for nearly an hour.
Some parents looked at us with
expressions quite sour.

And so it happened once again
I was that guy
Who had’t remembered.
Had I even tried?

My mistake made us miss out
on a Christmas memory
I was completely bummed out
for days…at least three

My family forgave me
but I felt like a dunce
Can’t I do anything right…
Even just this once?

Add it to the list of things
that seem to go wrong.
My list of mistakes
is getting quite long.

Add that to the pile of junk
with which we’re dealing
Our world is angry, unequal,
so many need healing.

This Christmas I’ve been haunted
by feelings of pain
Celebrate Christ’s birth?
That sounds insane.

How can I be joyful
in a season like this?
I make so many mistakes
What else have I missed?

I am imperfect and trite,
forgetful, needy;
obtuse, self-absorbed,
and don’t forget greedy.

What is the good news
for people like me?
That God is one of us?
How can that even be?

I need so much more in a
divine being to worship.
God must be better than me
and certainly more hip.

I want to worship a God
with incredible powers
And yet is as beautiful
as fields of wildflowers.

But at Christmas we gather
and remember the day
that God was born among us
and lain in the hay.

The stench of the animals
Mary’s screams during birth
The darkness of the night…
few knew the babe’s worth.

The scene easily overlooked
by those seeking fame,
power and glory –
those who play the world’s game.

Mary was a pregnant
unmarried teenager.
Shunned and insulted
I’m willing to wager.

She’d said yes to the angel
but had much to lose.
“You’re pregnant!?!?” said Joe, adding
“The baby is whose?”

It is really quite strange
if you think about it.
The good news of Jesus
doesn’t seem to fit.

If God’s a king, a ruler,
omnipotent even.
Why, then, would God be born
behind an old inn?

To an unwed mother,
perfect though she be,
It’s still a scandal like what
you’d find on TV.

And yet on this Christmas
we gather once more
to admit our shortcomings
and beg for more…

More peace for this weary world,
more love to be shared
more forgiveness to take root
in hearts that are scared.

I guess Christmas is not about
gifts or perfection
or Santa Claus or cookies
or other confections.

Christmas means being honest
about our needs
for grace, truth, and love.
It’s a time to say please…

Please reveal yourself to us
again and once more,
In the places least expected
where none are adored;

Among the poor and forgotten
the weak and the lame
the outcast, neglected,
despised and ashamed.

In the times when I feel like
I can’t do much right
I give thanks and remember
the story of that night;

When you gave us your son
in a place unexpected.
He’d grow up only to find
that he’d be rejected.

When we feel lost and alone
Again show us grace
The grace that we find when we
gaze on Jesus’ face

Be it the baby in the manger
or the man on the cross,
Both remind us of your presence
when we feel lost.

Once more on this silent night
forgive us our sins
Remind us that life’s more
than competing for wins.

It’s a journey long and arduous,
paved with humble admissions
That we can’t do it alone
much less make good decisions.

If there’s a moral in this
  I guess it would be
Christmas is only good news
   for people like me
Who need Jesus’ forgiveness
  to be truly free.

I saw this video recently and it had me thinking about Christmas, very much because of what I just shared with the kids – the idea of the mirror, I mean. But just like I don’t imagine any of those kids asked for a mirror from Santa, I wondered how many of us really want or welcome or receive how meaningful, how powerful, how significant and full of purpose it is that God showed up as a person, in Jesus.

And I wondered if, from God’s perspective, we look something like the animals in that video when we come up against the reflection of Jesus, out there and among us in the wilderness of the world where we live.

Remember, there was that one gorilla, in particular, who seemed downright angry to see his reflection in the mirror. There was the scared baboon, a couple of curious – maybe skeptical – cats, an elephant who couldn’t be bothered, and that family of chimpanzees that looked like a lot of Christians on any given Sunday morning, seated in row, primping and posturing for themselves and others, but not appearing to do much of anything about what they see.

And maybe all of this seems like a stretch. Maybe you think I’m trying too hard. Maybe I’ve lost you altogether.

But I really do think Jesus showed up as some kind of cosmic mirror in the wilderness of our lives and that God’s goal in all of it, was so that we couldn’t help but look upon this one who was so much like us and recognize, in a new way, a call on our lives to respond – not with fear, not with anger, not with anxiety, not with empty gestures of self-gratification, and not with indifference to the reflections of God, in Jesus, that are living and moving and breathing among us every day.

What I mean is, I’m under the impression that God is always holding up a mirror before us and inviting, encouraging, and challenging us to see ourselves in the other…wherever and however and as often as we are able to see them.

Don’t get me wrong, God does look like this:

...soft and sweet, a giggly and dribbly, little baby in a manger. And God is to be found in the familiar faces of the men and women and children who are sitting next to us here and now.

But God also looks like this:

This is Isra Ali Saalad…who moved from Somalia to Sweden, with her mother and two siblings, looking for a safe place to live.

And God looks like this:

Kirk Odom, who spent 31 years in jail for a crime he had nothing to do with.

And God looks like Julie, Antonio, and India:

...children in Flint, Michigan, who still have to collect their daily allowance of water, in bottles from the fire station, because a major city, in the “wealthiest country in the world,” can’t manage to get clean, safe water to those who need it most. It’s been more than a year.

And God looks like refugees in Ramadi:

...and heroin babies in Muncie:

…and hungry people, right here Hancock County, too:

Just this week, a man came to get some help from our food pantry and told Linda Sevier, our Administrative Assistant, as she loaded him up with groceries, that “he used to be just like her.” It’s the kind of thing we’ve heard before. What he meant was, he used to have means; he used to not need to ask for help; he used to have enough. It’s the sort of thing any of us would say to justify ourselves… to establish our worth… to prove that we’re not as bad or as needy or as lost as we may seem to the casual observer… that there was a time when…you know?

And Linda assured him – as if holding up a mirror in the wilderness – that he was still very much just like her; that we are so much more alike, in God’s eyes than we are unalike – as that old Maya Angelou poem goes. And we are so much more alike – and loved and loveable – than we are willing to admit enough of the time.

And that is the message and the hope and the joy of Christmas.

We are, every one of us – the immigrant, the refugee, the addict, the poverty-stricken, the lost and the lonely, the high and the mighty – we are children of the most high God. We are, each of us, brothers and sisters in this Christ who was born and who died and who was raised for the sake of the world.

And we are, each of us, invited to see the world around us as a reflection of God’s very own self, in Jesus. Because when we see ourselves and each other through the reflection of this cosmic kind of mirror, we can’t help but respond (not like those animals in the wilderness) but with the very heart of and in the faithful ways of God – not anxiously, but with a holy kind of patience and peace; not out of anger, but with genuine love; not out of fear, but with faith; not with selfishness or indifference, but with generosity and compassion; not with judgment, but with mercy and forgiveness and grace; not in despair, but with great, abiding hope in what God can and will do with and for and through us, if we will let it happen.

So let’s raise our heads, open our eyes, and look around this Christmas – and every day until we get it right – and let’s look for this Jesus, in the eyes and faces and lives of the people around us. And let’s be surprised by how often he shows up; let’s be surprised by how much we have in common; and let’s reflect the love and hope and mercy of God in ways that surprise and change the world around us, in his name.

Amen. Merry Christmas.

11pm Christmas Eve – Luke 2:15-20

7pm Christmas Eve - Luke 2