Christmas Eve

Christmas has come, and it feels familiar.

Comfortable arrival at a holy night.

Mission accomplished, job well done,

we sang the songs, we lit the lights.

Yes, familiar. But before we get settled

the sages may yet have a sermon, a song,

a word of caution. No, not to prolong

the moment, but to right the wrong.

Is there an announcement we need to hear?

The glory of God caused the shepherds to fear,

and perhaps the good news should arrest our plans.

The birth of a child to a woman and man

just like you and me … magnificently ordinary.

Christmas has come, and it feels familiar.

But maybe it shouldn't. Maybe there’s more

than traditions renewed and expectations met.

Maybe there’s music yet to be written.

Maybe there’s a story still being told.

Maybe there are terrified shepherds shivering still,

waiting to hear the news, needing to know

Jesus.

There’s a song in the air, and that song is Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us.

We welcome you, long-expected Jesus. We greet your arrival with familiar sights and smells and flavors and sounds. Familiar ... and yet new every year. There is a song in the air, both familiar and new, a song that is and was and ever shall be, Amen.