The True Event of Christmas Eve, Anno Domini 2010

In reverential steps,
the peace of the Christmas liturgy
spreads to all.
Heart full of adoration,
I chant the offertory.
As the warden collects the generous gifts,
the choir clears throats, turns pages.

BANG!
Someone screams, many duck.
Hearts race, the world seems to stop.
Silence.
It came from his pocket! a man shouts.
Was it a cell phone?
No, no! a woman cries.
It was a gun!

The warden limps to the back.
There in his knee, two bleeding holes.
The choir clears their throats of panic.
Rejoice and be merry, we sing,
as children cry and red and blue lights flash.

Gradually all is made clear.
A man with fear for his life
reached in his pocket to give the warden a check
and gave him a bullet instead.
A tragic accident, but only a small wound.
Yet the church remains paralyzed in shock
through the motions of worship.

As respectful cops silently investigate
the splintered wood, our shattered peace,
I wonder. Has it come to this?
Has our fear
come to this?
That a man would carry death in his pocket
to a place of prayer
on the eve of peace?

Only one figure in the church
did not start at the deafening crack.
Only one remained still
at the frightful disruption.
Still in the knowledge that He is God.
From the crèche, his small voice speaks to me,
the one we’ve come to adore speaks:

I am of greatest import, I am of highest transcendence.
I am the One who is relevant.
Lying here most vulnerable, I have overcome all.
Do not fear this world
I am come to redeem.

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