This Christmas, it's good to consider that all of us have contracted the most lethal disease known to mankind: sin. It is too late for us to find a vaccine, for we’re infected. Our only hope is a cure.
Jesus is the cure to the problem of sin. He died the death we deserved, and gave us the Life we don’t. This Christmas we celebrate Him, who gave His all that we might live. It is our highest privilege to quarantine together with Him. Enjoy this final poem, #10, anticipating Christmas!
Happy Birthday, Savior. All Yours.
Quarantined With Christ
quar·an·tine /ˈkwôrənˌtēn/ to impose isolation upon
(Isolation is Common in the Bible and the Christmas Story)
¹ 2020 tells the story
Of a virus that’s gone mad;
Covid is a purgatory,
Leaving people sick and sad.
² Don a mask, a shield, an apron,
Scrub the counters with Lysol,
Gloomy is our expectation
That the plague might end by Fall.
³ We adapt to the pandemic,
We avoid potential doom;
Our concerns – not academic –
Doing business over Zoom.
⁴ And we keep our social distance,
As we check out at the store,
Fauci cries “Six Feet!” — insistent,
Six-Feet-Under we ignore.
⁵ What empow’rs this poisoned iris
That infects the masses – sick?
It’s the Sars-Coronavirus,
And it packs a lethal kick.
⁶ Covid is just one of many
Of the problems that we face;
Robs our bank of ev’ry penny,
Steals our joy, without a trace.
⁷ Now let’s put this in perspective,
We’ve ignored this far too long,
Death and taxes aren’t elective,
And we’ve known it all along.
⁸ Our disease is not a fever,
O! It’s really much-much worse,
Sin proves me an unbeliever
To the One who’ll bear the curse.
⁹ And can we say we are the first,
To endure a quarantine?
The Bible tells of tales much worse,
That pre-date Saint Augustine!
¹⁰ Old Noah sat within his ark,
He sequestered o’er a year;1
Torrential rains – can’t disembark,
Until stormy skies turn clear.
¹¹ Young Joseph was imprisoned long,
On false charges, dragged to jail;
For he refused to go along,
Serving two years without bail.2
¹² Elijah warned King Ahab proud,
Then sprinted to a ravine,
He lived alone, beyond the crowd,
While God’s ravens dropped cuisine.3
¹³ Mary went into seclusion,
Jesus grew within her womb,
Nine long months of isolation,
Faithless she, the town presumed.
¹⁴ To Bethlehem they trudged ahead,
To an Inn – no vacancy!
Sheltered-in-place within a shed,
Far from home in Galilee.4
¹⁵ Jesus was delivered for us,
And within the manger laid,
While the angels sang their chorus,
As a holy serenade.5
¹⁶ Shepherds stunned, their jaws a-slacken,
“We must find this baby boy!”
Left behind their sheep in bracken,
Hearing news of greater joy.6
¹⁷ Coming to the lonely stable,
Without priest or Pharisee,
Just a carpenter unable –
Raise a child to Royalty.
¹⁸ So my friend, like those before us,
Do not chafe at quarantine;
You can know that in aloneness,
God reveals what’s unforeseen.
¹⁹ Christmas Gift, so long we waited,
From our jail you set us free;
From a manger, isolated,
By Your death, upon a tree.7
²⁰ Jesus is the Bible’s Hero,
Put to death the plague of sin;
Judgment’s clock ticks down to zero,
But His blood can cure within.
It is our privilege to flee the plague of sin, to quarantine with Jesus, the Savior! Happy Birthday to the King!