The Lights of Christmas
The twinkling lights of emerald green
And brilliant blue and white
Are piercing darkness, all enshrouded
In the black of night.
The scarlet Christmas lights reveal
To us the price He paid
In giving all, His life in death,
The way to God was made.
The greens remind us of His love
In making life forever,
That we who trust Him may be sure
That He'll forsake us never.
The blues speak of eternity,
The never ending span,
The timeless age, unnumbered years,
According to His plan.
The hue most beautiful of all
Tells of His righteousness,
A robe of snowy, spotless white,
In faith ours to possess.
The tree's bedecked, the window's bright,
A star and tinkling bell,
The gifts are made, the carol's played,
Do not the story tell.
He came to die and not to live
We worship not the child,
But God incarnate, holy, great,
Not virgin, or infant mild.
We cannot worship stars above,
Nor mangers filled with hay,
Not e'en the cross made out of wood,
Raised to the sky that day.
But Christ alone, for He is God,
He's all we'll ever need.
Remember not His birth alone,
For in His Word we read:
"This do in memory of me,"
His death, for this He came.
His body broken, bleeding sore,
He hung in blinding shame.
The sun refused to shine at noon,
The darkness fell as night,
The temple veil was rent in twain,
God spurned this Prince of Light.
On Him was sin, all yours and mine,
A black and ugly guilt.
The world's Light died, "It's done," He cried,
His precious blood was spilt.
It's crimson red, it's giving life,
We have in faith believed it,
For sinners we can now be free,
Because we have received it.
So, Christmas lights of red and green,
Of amber, blue, and white,
We look beyond the lovely scene,
To God our Christmas Light.
by Marjorie Morrison