The First Christmas

Was the morning of Christmas, the very first one.

A mother sat wondering, holding her Son.

This Babe born to a girl who ought to be shunned;

She now basks in His presence perfectly stunned.

In awe shepherds beam at the child marveling aloud;

At the foot of His manger, strangers sit bowed.

The angels proclaim to God all the glory,

To understand why I’ll share the whole story.

In the beginning He created it all;

By the power of His word, creatures big and small.

In a world of beauty, perfection and life,

Selfish mankind chose himself, death, and strife.

Now cast from God’s glory and into death’s domain.

Our Lord already knew how death would be slain,

But before He could complete His perfect plan, 

We must first understand the evil of man:

A world wholly wicked swallowed up by His flood,

An ark by His desire to preserve righteous blood.

By a man near one hundred a son to be borne,

His wife disbelieved and mocked God with scorn.

A twin’s birthright bought for a bowl of hot stew.

Deception of his father, by his mother too!

The jealousy of brothers, threw him into a well,

The best of the bunch into slavery sell.

A people delivered by plague and by power,

Abandoned their Saviour the very next hour. 

The nation arrived in the land of the oath, 

Rejected their Lord for idols and sin both.

A man after God’s own heart sounds like the answer, 

Yet murdered a man so that he could romance her.

Nothing but perfection could close such a divide.

Man is slave to death, destruction, evil and pride.

This all occurred so that we might understand

The mercy, the love, the grace of all He had planned.

Prophets spoke of the answer, mysteries unknown:

Pierced for our transgressions, the precious cornerstone.

This child much awaited by kings and by slaves,

From sin and despair and from death does He save!

The full plan of God nearly complete as He lay;

Chosen One, King of kings, now asleep in the hay.

The solution to sin, too profound to ignore:

By His blood our debts to be paid, to settle death’s score!

Immanuel, God with us, is finally here!

Sin is a debt unto death, soon gloriously clear!

His blood will wash us from red to white as the snow,

The Perfect Sacrifice, the One sent below.

Jehovah, Abba Father, Beginning and End, 

Sent His Son: Prince of Peace, Redeemer and Friend.

To be killed and yet risen, come the third day!

United with God, if you believe Him The Way. 

This tiny Babe who has known all yet to come,

To forgive all the sins He’s saving you from.

A promise, a payment, the Messiah, God’s law,

Now given the full story should fill you with awe.

Right now this first Christmas appears to be small,

But its life, forgiveness and mercy for all.