We joy that when the Father sent His Son
He came to life the same as you and I:
Yes, Son of God, but also Son of Man.
And a woman—not a goddess—sang our Lord’s first lullaby.

Instead of to some monarch’s palace warm,
to frosty field around a shepherd’s fire
the angel came. Not kings but common men
beheld the glory of the Lord and heard the angels’ choir.

We join the meek and lowly and through faith
are born again of Him, and in that birth
may we—as did the shepherds—come with haste
and find in Christ our hope and Peace on earth.

And as they shared glad tidings of great joy,
may we fear not to likewise do our part
and take the glorious message to the world
to every searching contrite soul and every broken heart.

I wrote this poem on Christmas Eve, 2005. Luke’s account of the advent of Christ emphasizes His humble birth to a mortal mother, assurance to all of us that He could fulfill His mission to live and die for us. The angel’s appearance to the shepherds also proclaims to the world that His gospel is for everyone, and that once we have received the good news that He came to atone for the sins of all men, we should share that knowledge—as did the Shepherds.