Advent 2

I’m dreaming of the first Christmas
Foretold by seers in ancient times.
The waiting, watching patient prophets
Gazing through the mists of time.
Amidst the calls to turn, relent,
To cease the sin and to repent
Sit seeds of shining heavenly hope;
Refracting and reflecting
The beams of light in blackest night.

These singers of the song of hope,
Soloists amidst the smoke,
Of rising incense in the air,
Drown out the dirge of sin’s despair.
Their melody moves me to tears,
Even after countless years.
The suffering servant who will come,
Sins shackles shattered and undone.
This child who will be born to us,
Bearing the burden of both covenant and government,
Wonderful, Counsellor, Mighty God
King of kings and Prince of Peace,
Hope of the Nations
Light of the World
All this pressure to be placed
On a humble, vulnerable babe in arms.

As we trace this tune through page and year
We find only one path appear.
A path pioneered by Jesus Christ,
The source of light in blackest night
A beacon shining, gleaming bright
Through whom our Christmas will be white.
Our sins washed as white as snow,
Beyond detergents’ fragrant glow,
Our innocence reclaimed by grace
That God may show to us his face.
So now, we dream and watch and wait.
We hum that haunting melody.
Which seers sang and prophets performed
“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,
Foretold by seers in ancient times
May God’s love shine on you, so bright.
And through Him may Christmases be white.”