This morning I am musing about the reason for the season, and would like to share these three things with you.

First, the lines from Hamlet Act 1, scene 1:

“Some say that ever ‘gainst the season comes

Wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated,

This bird of dawning singeth all night long;

And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,

The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,

No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,

So hallow’d and so gracious is the time.”

Secondly, the words to the song heard years ago on the Southern Gospel Circuit as a Christmas song, performed by Steve Haupt and Becky Kelly, inspired by grandson, Spenser Reijgers and written by Steve Haupt and Chris Leech. Steve tells that the question posed was asked by his grandson which led him to write these lyrics:

“Where’s the Line to See Jesus?”

Christmas time was approaching,

Snow is starting to fall,

Shoppers choosing their presents,

People filling the mall.

Children waiting for Santa,

With excitement and glee,

A little boy tugged at my sweater,

Looked up and asked me.

(chorus)

Where’s the line to see Jesus?

Is He here at the store?

It’s Christmas time; it’s His birthday.

Why don’t we see Him more?

Where’s the line to see Jesus?

He was born for me.

Santa Claus brought me presents.

But Christ gave His life for me.

As I stood in amazement,

At this message profound,

I looked down to thank him,

he was nowhere around .

Little boy at the mall might have well have had wings.

As the tears filled my eyes,

but I heard him sing.

(chorus)

In the blink of an eye,

at the sound of His trump,

We’ll all stand in line at His throne.

Every knee shall bow down,

every tongue confess,

that Jesus Christ is Lord.

Where’s the line to see Jesus?

Is He here at the store?

It’s Christmas time; it’s His birthday

Why don’t we see Him more?

Where’s the line to see Jesus?

He was born for me.

Santa Claus brought me presents.

But Christ gave His life for me.

And finally, a poem scribbled on the back of a church bulletin by a dear friend one Christmas week when I was her Sunday School teacher, many Christmases ago:

Silent night, holy night,

Not a Santa Claus in sight.

O’re the heavens near and far

Shines a bright and heavenly star

Beckoning all to come and see.

Kings and shepherds bow the knee

Before a feed trough in an animal shed

To the King of Kings on his straw-filled bed.

The only glitter, the Wise Men’s gold.

The only music the angels told.

The only gifts to Him were given.

The only light sent down from heaven.

Silent night? Holy night!

(Not a Santa Claus in sight.)

The only reason to celebrate,

The birthday of One so great.

Let’s keep the Christ in Christmas.