A Christmas Poem

Clement Clark Moore is the author of the famous poem, "A Visit from St. Nicholas," which most of us know by its first line, "'Twas the Night Before Christmas." These words, first published in 1823, did a lot to cement in the American mind the traditional view of Christmas that exists today: a jolly Santa Claus delivering gifts from house to house on Christmas Eve. I grew up loving this poem and this idea.

When I became a Christian 24 years ago I finally understood Christmas. Moore's poem is light and playful but it has nothing to do with the Savior who entered this world in order to identify with a sinful humanity that he might one day die for sinners like us. One day, everyone will know who this Jesus we sing about on Christmas really is (Phil 2:10-11). In the meantime, we wait with eager anticipation for his glorious return.

Moore's poem is about the eve of Christ's birth. The following poem is about the eve of Christ's return.

The Return of King Jesus

by Aaron Menikoff

December 2014

 

‘Twas the night before Jesus, when darkness still crept

In the lives of poor sinners, who hastily slept;

Their dreams rarely pretty, their hearts often sad;

They longed for a land where the good crushed the bad;

Men, women and children, now lost in their sin;

With visions of regret and what could-have-been;

And saints all around them still preaching the kingdom;

But their eyes oh so blind they just couldn’t see Him;

So dead in trespasses, so full with sheer evil;

They now couldn’t tell the true King from the devil.

 

But oh, all the while, how the saints did rejoice;

Though still known as sinners, they sang with one voice,

Of a King very humble, meek, and mild,

Whom came forth in a manger his glory defiled;

Every year they remembered his lowly birth;

Amazed how their Lord chose to enter green earth;

All glory and honor and power lay behind;

He took on the likeness of those he would find,

Grasping and clasping and owning transgression;

Not knowing their need for an honest confession.

 

Then God in His power chose to capture their heart;

And their sin from their soul had no choice but depart;

For the Lord had applied the sweet work of the cross;

So that now all gain could be counted as loss;

Though heartbreak and sorrow and pain still abound;

Now grace through His love always here to be found;

Atonement now made, the wrath of God taken;

Absorbed by the Son whom the Father forsaken;

The joy that appeared in the hearts of the saints,

Dislodged every reason for misplaced complaints.

 

As they went out to work, driving on, going fast;

They had no idea this day might be their last.

The promise of heaven seemed too much a dream;

Like a store of sweet candy, cookies, and cream;

But the truth of the Word they’d not fail to cherish;

For the Creator of all said they would not perish;

Each day, every hour, they devoted to the Lord;

Refusing to let any idol be adored;

And now on the cusp of the King’s swift return;

Each ready, the future Christ already earned.

 

‘Twas the night before Jesus comes from the sky;

With a cry of command and trumpets on high;

The angels all watching and looking with care;

In hopes of a mystery soon be laid bare;

How Jesus could love such unworthy people;

Even those who spend Sundays under a steeple;

From Boston to Cairo, Moscow to Madrid;

The King could be heard from the clouds overhead;

“Come those who once followed the prince of the air;

Once liars and swindlers and drunkards aware;

Of need for transgression to be fully lost;

Set aside, nailed down, to an old rugged cross;

Come everyone, humble and no longer hostile;

The meek and the pure unashamed of the Gospel.”

 

And all those redeemed heard the voice of the Lamb;

Each one in his heart crying, “I was that man!”

But with the arrival of Christ in their sight;

They bowed to the God-man in all of his might—

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night”