When Christmas Turns to Bedlam

When Christmas turns to Bedlam,
And Bethlehem to hatred,
With chaos and oblivion,
And tempers all inflated.
When peace gives way to lying,
When sin consumes all living,
When closest kin are dying,
Is God His grace still giving?
Oh! Seek the Lord in prayer,
For He gives peace in Bedlam,
He conquered the Dismayer,
When He was born in Bedlam.
So trust Him and obey his word,
Renew you wonder at His birth.

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Shepherd

The angels herald news
To certain shepherds – Jews
Why bother with these poor and weak?
But listen and you’ll see.

The Christ would be as them,
A shepherd – unto men.
All nations then would be his sheep.
That’s who he came to be.

And they were poor in life,
Thus also was the Christ.
He humbly in a manger sleeps.
That’s how he came to be.

The needy Christ would aid,
By His own blood to save,
The shepherds then were most in need.
That’s why he came to be.

I Saw Him Bloodied, Twice

I enter the grimy cave,
The stench assails my nose,
I lean upon my stave,
And move into the glow,
Held by the care-worn man,
O’er that holy scene,
The maid, the babe, the feed-stand
Stood in the straw unclean.
Blood mixed and saturated,
With lambs’-filth in the straw,
Held this Divine incarnated.
Here lay Love in raw.

His mother lay like steel,
A smile bright, but pale,
We there before him kneel,
His father – strong and hale –
His father on this earth,
Low’rs his light to peer,
At this, the child’s birth,
And sheds a grateful tear.
We knew why He was there,
We know just who he was.
The angels in the air,
Had told it all to us.

Yet hidden in the back,
The sheep eat straw, oblivious.
Poor hosts with little tact,
Ignore this baby glorious.
Yet to His sheep would He,
Give His new life to feed.
Who were those sheep, were we?
Owned by the Bread that bleeds?
I saw Him bloodied, twice,
Last on a tree so rough.
This Bread of Life, the Christ,
Served in a feeding-trough.