In November of 2006, I watched as the local news reported on the outrageously long line that had grown outside our local Best Buy. The reason for that line was the long expected arrival of Playstation 3. Many had camped out overnight in the Minnesota cold and snow so as to ensure possession of that coveted prize. I shook my head, muttering to my wife, “What is it about Christmas that creates such insanity in people?” Then, it hit me: “What is it about Christmas, indeed!” I grabbed a pen, some paper, and about 30-40 minutes later, The Christmas Prince was born. I share it with all of you now with a heartfelt wish for a very Merry and Joyful Christmas!
What is it about Christmas that gives us pause?
It’s not Rudolph the Red Nose or Santa Claus.
It’s not the trees decorated with care,
Although they’re quite pretty to be perfectly fair.
It’s not the gifts, wrapped with pinpoint precision,
Or songs sentimental whose numbers are legion.
“Playstation 3!!!” the reason you say?
The plenitude of technology’s ray.
They camped and froze, in long lines were slumming,
As if this thing was the Second Coming.
Or family and friends gathered ’round dinner?
Surely that is the yuletide winner!
No, none of these give full, pleasing light,
To guide and to comfort on a cold winter’s night.
“The reason! The reason!” you demand at last!
You expect something else to appear, and fast?
Enough of the regaling and giving of hints!
I’ll tell you the tale of the Christmas Prince.
He was born from the starlight, His Dad was the King
Of all we could imagine, think, feel, and dream.
The voices of old said that He was God.
Now isn’t that just so perfectly odd?
And not at all polite or non-threatening;
Methinks His appearing was some kind of reckoning.
Yes. His coming, a judgment on all that was wrong.
For all of your heartache He’d give you a song.
This Christmas Prince, the King of Kings,
Did so many wonderful things.
He taught, He healed, and He raised the dead.
And made lunch for a crowd with some fish and bread.
But wait! There’s more! His life, sacrificial;
His blood for ours … not at all superficial.
Cruel men took the Prince, not wanting to hear
His message of love, which cancels out fear.
So they took Him and beat Him, and bruised Him some more.
I know that He knew who He suffered for.
Then they stole Perfect Love, nailing Him to a tree.
And He hung there, and died there, for you and for me.
But death couldn’t hold Him, for truth could not lie.
He rose up, renewed, no more to die.
Now, the way through the manger is low, it is said.
So you’d better stoop down, or you’ll bump your head.
And come worship the Prince, the newborn King.
He’s the One who was promised, so cheer up and sing.
This tale of the Prince has been my plea.
What was lost is now found, if you want it to be.
So remember my words, all you who still sleep;
For peace, hope, and love, though free, are not cheap.
The Prince, He is real. What more can I say?
Arise and be glad on this Christmas Day!