"What meaneth all this fuss and worry?
Whence go these crowds to run and scurry?
Why all the lights - the Christmas trees?
And the silly "fat man," tell me, please!"
"Why, don't you know? This is the way
When everyone celebrates this holiday,
For this is Christmas!"
"So this is Christmas, do you say?
But where is Christ this Christmas Day?
Has He been lost among the throng?
His voice drowned out empty son?"
"No, He's not here - you'll find Him where
Some humble soul now kneels in prayer,
There you'll find Christ - not Christmas.
But see the many fickle thousands
Who gather on the Christmas Day,
Whose hearts have never yet been opened,
Or said to Him, 'Come in to stay.'
In countless homes the candles burning,
In countless hearts expectant yearning
For gifts and presents, food and fun,
And laughter till the day is done.
But not a tear or grief or sorrow
For Him so poor He had to borrow
A crib, a colt, a boat, a bed
Where He could lay His weary head.
I'm sick of all this empty celebration,
Of feasting, drinking, recreation,
I'll go instead to Calvary
And there I'll kneel with those who know
The meaning of the manger low,
And find the Christ - not Christmas.
I leap by faith across the years
To that great day when He appears
The second time, to rule and reign,
To end all sorrow, death, and pain.
In endless bliss we then shall dwell
With Him Who saved our souls from Hell,
And worship HIM not Christmas!
- The Gospel Standard, Dec. 1987
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