Thursday, 28 December 2017

Ex-Mass (a poem to ponder over!)


Christmas parties,
Mince pies,
X number of shopping days to Christmas,
School nativity play;
And out of a dark and dusty corner of the church
             the crib is found.

Baby Jesus (the plastic, white faced, blue eyed variety)
Is placed once more with ‘dignity’
In a place of honour surrounded by tinsel,
Fairy lights and Father Christmas.

The babe of God slips into the world
And into the hearts of all who love babies
(Even Herod’s are kept quiet today)

Then back goes the representation of Jesus,
Along with all the other trimmings,
Back to a dusty corner in people lives.

Jesus Christ, Son of God, Perpetual Babe,
    save us from our madness!

© Gordon Banks 08/12/1983

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