Christmas is real when the cost that we measure
reaches the manger and touches the skies,
shop fronts give way to divine revelation,
God is among us and selfishness dies.
Christmas is real when the gifts that are given
mirror the love of this God upon earth,
God who is known in self-giving and loving
crowning our poverty, coming to birth.
Christmas still echoed when screams of the children,
slaughtered by Herod inflamed people's fear.
Christmas remains when the trees and the tinsel
make way for news that we'd rather not hear.
Christmas is real when we enter the squalor
mirrored in Bethlehem so long ago;
off'ring the love that was seen in the Godhead,
total self-giving, not baubles and show.
© 2006 Lyrics: Andrew Pratt