Christmas Returns
A Sermon Preached by the Rev. Susan Allison-Hatch
“Christmas returns as it always does,” the poet proclaims.
Christmas returns to near-barren fields
in the dark night watches
to shepherds on guard
and wombs long thought empty
“Christmas returns….”
in surprising places
with twists in the plot
that confront and give hope
light in the darkness of lives gone unnoticed
A young single mother struggling to raise
two girls on her own
while wrapped in a cloud of trauma-filled gloom
she’s got no money for gifts this year
just barely enough to pay off the rent
And yet she picks out a couple of books
in hopes that somehow she’ll find cash to pay
for the books that she’s layed away
Two days before Christmas she goes to pay for the books
Both those layed away and two newly selected
She stands in line and waits her turn
“I have some books on hold,” she says
to the clerk at the counter.
The clerk turns away,
bends down and picks up a bag.
“How much do I owe?” the young mother asks.
The clerk then replies,
“Just the cost of those books you hold in your hands.”
“What?” “How can that be?” “I didn’t pay in advance.”
“They’re paid for,” the clerk keeps repeating.
“They’re yours. They’re all paid for.”
Again and again on the short ride home
that young mother looks down
on that bag full of books.
Incredulous, puzzled, confused by it all
“How? I don’t get it. How can this be?”
Stunned like those shepherds on that far-away field.
As she picks up her bag and heads to the gate
she turns back and says in a confident way
“A gift of grace.,” that’s what it is.
“Christmas returns again this year.”
A woman of indeterminate age
weathered and wrinkled by time on the streets
announces with considerable pride
“Two sleeping bags.
“I’ve got two sleeping bags and loads of dry socks.”
Alarm bells set off. She’s out on the streets.
“Where do you stay when it gets really cold?”
“Not in the shelter, that’s for sure.
“Folks steal all your things and make lots of noise.”
“But where do you stay,” the question resurfaces.
Pulling her jackets close to her face, she replies,
“I camp out in a really good place.
“A church let’s me stay in their outdoor loft.
“I’m sheltered from snow and the wind and the rain.
“I’m safe and welcome and that’s what I need.”
Christmas returns again this year
With twists in a plot that both gives hope and confronts
The spark of life in a woman
weathered and wrinkled by time on the streets
a beacon of hope from one gone unnoticed
And yet one still wonders,
“Are you really safe? Is that all you need?”
“Is an outdoor loft sufficient for God’s precious child?”
Still Christmas returns
In a hospital room on Christmas Day
A curtain divides one bed from the next
Behind that curtain a tremulous voice
Joins others in prayer—a prayer we know.
A chorus of voices—some trembling, some belting, some gasping for breath:
“Our Father who art in Heaven
“Hallowed be thy name
“Thy Kingdom come
“Thy will be done
“On earth as it is in Heaven….”
A strong voice rises from the hall,
“O holy child of Bethlehem
Descend to us we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born in us today.
As Christmas returns again and again
year in and year out.
A Sermon Preached by the Rev. Susan Allison-Hatch
“Christmas returns as it always does,” the poet proclaims.
Christmas returns to near-barren fields
in the dark night watches
to shepherds on guard
and wombs long thought empty
“Christmas returns….”
in surprising places
with twists in the plot
that confront and give hope
light in the darkness of lives gone unnoticed
A young single mother struggling to raise
two girls on her own
while wrapped in a cloud of trauma-filled gloom
she’s got no money for gifts this year
just barely enough to pay off the rent
And yet she picks out a couple of books
in hopes that somehow she’ll find cash to pay
for the books that she’s layed away
Two days before Christmas she goes to pay for the books
Both those layed away and two newly selected
She stands in line and waits her turn
“I have some books on hold,” she says
to the clerk at the counter.
The clerk turns away,
bends down and picks up a bag.
“How much do I owe?” the young mother asks.
The clerk then replies,
“Just the cost of those books you hold in your hands.”
“What?” “How can that be?” “I didn’t pay in advance.”
“They’re paid for,” the clerk keeps repeating.
“They’re yours. They’re all paid for.”
Again and again on the short ride home
that young mother looks down
on that bag full of books.
Incredulous, puzzled, confused by it all
“How? I don’t get it. How can this be?”
Stunned like those shepherds on that far-away field.
As she picks up her bag and heads to the gate
she turns back and says in a confident way
“A gift of grace.,” that’s what it is.
“Christmas returns again this year.”
A woman of indeterminate age
weathered and wrinkled by time on the streets
announces with considerable pride
“Two sleeping bags.
“I’ve got two sleeping bags and loads of dry socks.”
Alarm bells set off. She’s out on the streets.
“Where do you stay when it gets really cold?”
“Not in the shelter, that’s for sure.
“Folks steal all your things and make lots of noise.”
“But where do you stay,” the question resurfaces.
Pulling her jackets close to her face, she replies,
“I camp out in a really good place.
“A church let’s me stay in their outdoor loft.
“I’m sheltered from snow and the wind and the rain.
“I’m safe and welcome and that’s what I need.”
Christmas returns again this year
With twists in a plot that both gives hope and confronts
The spark of life in a woman
weathered and wrinkled by time on the streets
a beacon of hope from one gone unnoticed
And yet one still wonders,
“Are you really safe? Is that all you need?”
“Is an outdoor loft sufficient for God’s precious child?”
Still Christmas returns
In a hospital room on Christmas Day
A curtain divides one bed from the next
Behind that curtain a tremulous voice
Joins others in prayer—a prayer we know.
A chorus of voices—some trembling, some belting, some gasping for breath:
“Our Father who art in Heaven
“Hallowed be thy name
“Thy Kingdom come
“Thy will be done
“On earth as it is in Heaven….”
A strong voice rises from the hall,
“O holy child of Bethlehem
Descend to us we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born in us today.
As Christmas returns again and again
year in and year out.
