The hinge of history
The hinge of history is on a stable door in
Bethlehem. A child came into this world,
A God child, a star child, a child destined
To change the world forever.
Imagine that, a baby, set to challenge kings,
Upsetting the applecarts of the high and
Mighty and in his wake, the promise of
Christmas, peace on earth and goodwill to
Dwell on that if you will. A woman has
A baby and the earth shook. Obviously,
Not just any baby, but a very special baby.
A baby like no other and there they were,
Soothsayers, stargazers and oracles, all lost
To explain the arrival and meaning of a
Star and a baby laid in a manger.
The son of God, the child of God, who on
Earth could combat such a miracle? But
Many have tried, oh, they tried as hard as
They could, but there was no silencing the
Cry from the healthy lungs of the son of God.
In modern times the faithless, like the poor,
Are still with us, but secular aims aside. the
Child of God will not be silenced by empty
Barrels that make the most noise and the least
Sense, and there are joyful signs afoot that this
Precious child is still amongst us and at work
In our daily lives.
As the smaller churches close their doors
Against those who would steal from the altar,
Rip lead from the roof and desecrate a holy
Place, cathedrals have oiled their hinges and
Flung their doors open to floodlights and laser
Shows. What, many have ventured, has this
Got to do with with a saviour sent from God?
Well, ‘knock and the door will be opened’, ‘seek
And you will find’, and thus surely there can be
No objection to the house of God and thus the
Light of the world, embracing light as a means
Of reaching out to thousands who, upon hearing
The call, came and where amazed by what they
And lately, the city has filled with people; the
Shops and streets are buzzing again, love, life,
And the true meaning of Christmas has come to
Call and it is likely it will stay, thanks to a
Hinge on a door that was thrown open. Truly a
Mighty child at work here.
© Joseph G Dawson
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