On the darkness of the road
a couple walks, bone-weary,
seeking a sanctuary
where new life can be born.
In the darkness of the womb
a baby stirs and turns,
unaware of a destiny
and a coming birth day.
In the darkness of the night,
Herod looks out at his kingdom
sensing a shift that is coming
that is beyond his control.
In the darkness of closed eyes,
Mary breathes through contractions,
sweat dripping, she longs more than anyone
for the birth of the Saviour.
In the darkness of unknowing,
Joseph prays for deliverance,
wondering if Mary will survive
and find new life with her baby.
In the darkness of a stable,
a baby’s cry is heard,
and a mother’s breathing,
and a father’s sighs.
In the darkness of the hillside,
a song is heard by shepherds,
glorious, heart-stopping, memorable,
a song of songs for the world to hear.
In the darkness of the Judaean night,
shepherds follow directions
and bow to worship a newborn monarch,
hours old, in the arms of his mother.
In the darkness of the world,
as Mary’s loving arms hold her baby,
a Roman occupying army paces,
and zealots make plans for revolution.
In the darkness of the world,
the good and the bad are bathed
in the moon’s rays, even as dawn
peeks it’s great eye over the horizon.
Christmas Day.
I am a Mennonite pastor currently teaching theology at Conrad Grebel University College in Waterloo, Ontario. I’ve served congregations in Ontario and most recently, Alberta.