Night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

But all is forgotten, of a baby born this night
History stood still, as it was a night unlike any
As the Saviour was born in a stinky barn
Immanuel God with us

I was pondering today, if Jesus was born tonight in a back street hovel of Hillbrow, would we accept Him and his message? Would we want him to prove to us with a personal miracle that He is the Son of God? Blessed are the poor, He would say but what about us? Would He not be the Julius Malema of the down trodden saying “I am the resurrection and the life. No man can come to my Father but through me.” Would we not tell jokes about Him behind His back and even go so far as to crucify Him all over?

What will we do with this Jesus today?

And they shall call his name Immanuel God with us for tomorrow, some two thousand years ago the Messiah was born into the world. God with us!