Looking for Christian Christmas poems that would be perfect for Sunday School, a church service, or carol concerts?
We have assembled a collection of 50+ of the best Christian Christmas poems to make your search easier. For ease of reference, we have organized this collection by themes:
- Christian Christmas Poems For Sunday School
- Religious Christmas Readings for Sunday School
- Christian Christmas Poems For Church Services
- Religious Christmas Readings for Church Services
- Christian Christmas Poems For Carol Concerts
- Religious Christmas Readings For Carol Concerts
- Our Favourite Christmas Poems about Jesus
We hope that you find our ultimate collection of Christmas religious poetry and readings helpful when planning Christmas festivities.
Christian Christmas Poems For Sunday School
This Christmas poem is a classic and a Sunday School favourite. It could easily be recited by young children at a carol concert or Christmas church service.
A Song Was Heard at Christmas
By Timothy Dudley-Smith
A song was heard at Christmas
To wake the midnight sky,
A Saviour’s birth, and peace on earth,
And praise to God on high.
The angels sing at Christmas
With all the hosts above,
And still we sing the newborn King,
His glory and His love.
This next Christmas poem for Sunday School has words that are simple, but that capture the spirit of this special holiday.
By Marie Irish
Bright Christmas Stars shine on high,
Golden stars in the wintery sky;
Christmas candles in windows bright,
Sends greetings into the night.
While in our hearts the Christmas flame,
Glows with a love like His who came;
The infant Christ of lowly birth,
To bring good will and peace to earth.
This poem would make a wonderful addition to any Christmas Sunday School lesson, with its message of friendship of kindness to all people.
There’s More to Christmas…
There’s more, much more to Christmas
Than candlelight and cheer;
It’s the spirit of sweet friendship
That brightens all the year;
It’s thoughtfulness and kindness,
It’s hope reborn again,
For peace, for understanding,
For goodwill to men!
Our collection of Christmas poems for Sunday School would not be complete without this poem about the true meaning of Christmas, which is faith and love.
By Iris W. Bray
Christmas is for giving
And for showing that we care,
For honouring the Christ Child
With the loving gifts we share
The wise men gave of riches;
The shepherds, faith and love.
Each gift, in its own measure,
Was smiled on from above.
Let every gift be treasured;
Not always size or price
Determines the extent of love
And willing sacrifice.
Handsome gifts with festive trim
Brings smiles of sweet content,
But modest gifts of humble means
Are ofttimes heaven sent.
Whether it be large or small
Each gift will share in part
The message of true Christmas joy
If given from the heart!
This Christmas poem for Sunday School welcomes the birth of Baby Jesus.
A Little Carol
By Evaleen Stein
Welcome, little Brother!
Lowly, holy One!
Hail thee, Virgin Mother,
More than any other
Blessed in thy Son!
Child, since the poor manger
Once thou didst not scorn,
Rest thee, little Stranger,
Folded from all danger,
In our hearts new-born!
Nestle thus, we pray thee,
In our love’s caress;
Fain we are to pay thee
Worship, and obey thee,
Babe, and Prince no less!
Children at Sunday School will love this Christmas poem about the birth of Baby Jesus in crowded Bethlehem under the starry night sky.
Before the Paling of the Stars
By Christina Georgina Rossetti
Before the paling of the stars,
Before the winter morn,
Before the earliest cock crow,
Jesus Christ was born:
Born in a stable,
Cradled in a manger,
In the world his hands had made
Born a stranger.
Priest and king lay fast asleep
Young and old lay fast asleep
In crowded Bethlehem;
Saint and angel, ox and ass,
Kept a watch together
Before the Christmas daybreak
In the winter weather.
Jesus on his mother’s breast
In the stable cold,
Spotless lamb of God was he,
Shepherd of the fold:
Let us kneel with Mary maid,
With Joseph bent and hoary,
With saint and angel, ox and ass,
To hail the King of Glory.
This traditional Austrian poetry is perfect for Sunday School at Christmas for children of all ages. It evokes imagery of Baby Jesus as a joyful soul, full of happiness and glee.
Bring Your Pipes
Traditional Austrian Poem
Bring your pipes and bring your drum,
Call the shepherds all to come;
Hasten quick, no time to lose,
Don’t forget your dancing shoes.
Frolic we right merrily:
He will laugh with happy glee,
Yes, and smile, and we will dance,
While He claps His tiny hands.
Kids will enjoy this Christmas poetry that draws a comparison between the letter “J” in Jesus, and the shape of their favourite Christmas candy! This religious poem could be used in class room art projects (using real candy canes if possible!)
Look at a candy cane, what do you see?
Stripes that are red like the blood shed for me!
White for my Savior, Who’s sinless and pure!
“J” is for Jesus, My Lord that’s for sure!
Turn it around and a staff you will see,
Jesus, my Shepherd, is coming for me!
This Christian Christmas poem is perfect for Sunday School. The kids could rehearse this poem to present at a church services or carol concerts. The words are simple enough for even the youngest children to participate.
The Christmas Story
By Leanne Guenther
Once upon a time,
A long, long time ago.
Begins the story of a baby,
That most of you should know.
His daddy’s name was Joseph,
And Mary was His mom,
This babe was very special
He was God’s only Son.
Some angels came from heaven,
And they began to sing.
To the shepherds in the fields below,
“Glad tidings do we bring!”
A bright star lit the heavens,
To light the magi’s way,
To the baby in the manger
Who was born on Christmas day.
And all who gathered round Him,
Rejoiced and praised His birth.
For the babe, the King, named Jesus,
Is our Saviour here on earth!
This spiritual Christmas poem is very well-known, particularly the last verse, and a favourite at Sunday School.
In the Bleak Mid-Winter
By Christina Georgina Rossetti
In the bleak mid-winter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him, Whom cherubim, worship night and day,
A breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, Whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.
Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.
What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.
This is one of our favourite Christian Christmas poems. Kids love this poem about little donkey’s journey to Bethlehem. You could ask children attending Sunday School to draw and paint pictures of the little donkey.
Little donkey, little donkey,
On the dusty road.
Got to keep on plodding onwards,
With your precious load.
Been a long time, little donkey,
Through the winter’s night.
Don’t give up now, little donkey,
Bethlehem’s in sight.
Little donkey, little donkey,
Had a heavy day.
Little donkey, carry Mary
safely on her way.
Do not falter, little donkey,
There’s a star ahead.
It will guide you, little donkey,
To a cattle shed.
This is a second poem in our Christian Christmas poem collection that explains why the candy cane is a wonderful symbol of the true meaning of Christmas. Kids are sure to love and appreciate this sweet poem!
A significant symbol of Christmas
Is the simple candy cane.
It’s shape is the crook of the shepherd
One of the first who came.
The lively peppermint flavor is
The regal gift of spice.
The white is Jesus’ purity.
The red is sacrifice.
The narrow stripes are friendship.
And the nearness of his love.
Eternal, sweet compassion
A gift from God above.
The candy cane reminds us all
of how much God cared.
And like His Christmas gift to use
It’s meant to be broken and shared.
This Christmas Poem for Sunday School commemorates that three wisemen that travelled far and wide so that they could worship Baby Jesus. As part of a craft project for Sunday School, the kids would make paper crowns and jewel boxes to represent the riches the three wisemen brought the newborn babe.
The Kings From the East
By Heinrich Heine
“Dear children,” they asked in every town,
Three kings from the land of the sun,
“Which is the road to Bethlehem?”
But neither the old nor the young
Could tell, so the kings rode on:
Their guide was a golden star,
Which glittered ahead of them, high in the air,
So clear, so very clear.
The star stood still over Joseph’s house,
They all of them stepped in:
The good ox lowed and the little child cried,
And the kings began to sing.
At Christmas time, not only do we think about Jesus’ sacrifice for us by leaving heaven, we think about what we can do to thank him. This religious Christmas poetry says that no sacrifice for Jesus is too much.
If I Am…
If I am a king,
my crown I will give to him.
If I am a caroler,
I’ll sing to Him the best hymns.
If I am a shepherd,
the best lamb I’ll bring
If I am an angel, I’d give Him my wings.
If I am the wise man,
I’d give my wealth away.
If I am a soldier,
I’ll die for Him all the way.
But I’m just a poor little boy,
with nothing much to give,
but to offer my little hands
and my little feet.
To glorify the one in the manger that was born,
the hope and light of this mixed-up world.
I give my heart to the one that was born to die,
and brings freedom to all mankind.
I am just a little boy today,
I’ll do bigger things for Him one day.
I’d give my life, my all, to the One who calls me.
Jesus Christ was born to set me free,
and this is what Christmas means to me.
This is another favourite children’s Christmas poem. It can be recited by the Sunday School class at a church service or carol concert.
Just a Little Donkey
Just a little donkey,
but on my back I bore
the one and only Saviour
the world was waiting for.
Just a little donkey,
but I was strong and proud;
I gladly carried Mary
through the chaos of the crowd.
I brought her to a stable
where she made a tiny bed…
A place for Baby Jesus
to lay His little head.
I pray the world remembers
that special Christmas night,
when just a little donkey
carried Heaven’s precious light.
No collection of Christian Christmas poems for kids is complete without this next poem. It conveys the joy of the birth of Christ, and celebrates His eternal love.
Jesus was Born on Christmas
Jesus was born on Christmas,
on a very holy night,
and in the sky above Him,
shone the very brightest light.
All of the heavenly angels,
Sang a song to praise His name.
They told the lowly shepherds,
so they left their sheep and came.
From the east the wisemen roam,
bringing precious gift to share.
Riches for the King of Kings,
to show the Saviour that they care.
Now we celebrate His birthday,
in our hearts and everyday.
Jesus in your humble manger,
your true love is here to stay.
Religious Christmas Readings for Sunday School
This first reading would make a great Sunday School presentation to the church at Christmas time.
Make large, cards with the letters A thru Z (26 cards) – use 8 1/2×11 inch cardstock to make the cards (or cut pieces of poster board into quarters). The children can make the letters with poster paint, markers, wrapping paper or construction paper.
Have the middle aged children read the bold parts of the poem and the older children read the corresponding Bible quotes, while the youngest children hold up their alphabet cards at the appropriate time in the poem.
A Christmas Alphabet Poem
A is for Angels, appearing so bright, telling of Jesus that first Christmas night.
“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host.”
B is for Bethlehem, crowded and old, birthplace of Jesus by prophet foretold.
“But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel.”
C is for Cattle, their manger His bed, there in the trough where He laid His head.
“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes,
and laid him in a manger.”
D is for David and his ancient throne promised forever to Jesus alone.
“He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest; and the Lord God
shall give unto him the throne of his father David.”
E is for East, where shone the bright star which Magi on camels followed afar.
“Behold, there came wise men from the east asking ‘Where is the king of the Jews?’”
F is for Frankincense, with myrrh and gold, brought by the Wise Men as Matthew has told.
“And when they had opened their treasurers, they presented unto him gifts gold, frankincense, and myrrh.”
G is for God, who from heaven above sent down to mankind the Son of His love.
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish
but have everlasting life.”
H is for Herod, whose murderous scheme was told to Joseph in a nocturnal dream.
“The angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise and take the young child and his mother and flee into Egypt… for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him.”
I is for Immanuel, “God with us,” for Christ brought man back to the Father’s house.
“Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.”
J is for Joseph so noble and just, obeying God’s word with absolute trust.
“Then Joseph being raised from sleep did as the angel of the Lord had bidden him, and took unto him his wife.”
K is for King. A true king He would be, coming in power and authority.
“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem; behold, the King cometh unto thee;
he is just, and having salvation.”
L is for Love that He brought down to earth God enfleshed in lowly birth.
“In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because God sent his only begotten Son into the world,
that we might live through him.” 1 John 4:9.
M is for Mary, His mother so brave, counting God faithful and mighty to save.
“And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.”
N is for Night, when the Savior was born for nations of earth and people forlorn.
“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.”
O is for Omega, meaning “the last;” He’s eternal present, future and past.
“I am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last.”
P is for Prophets, when living on earth foretold His redemption and blessed birth.
“I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near.
A star will come out of Jacob; a sceptre will rise out of Israel.”
Q is for Quickly, as shepherds who heard hastened to act on that heavenly word.
“And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.”
R is for Rejoice. The sorrow of sin is banished forever when Jesus comes in.
“And you will have joy and gladness; and many will rejoice at his birth.”
S is for Savior. To be this He came; the angel of God assigned Him His name.
“She will bring forth a son, and you will call his name JESUS,
for he will save his people from their sins.”
T is for Tidings of joy, not of danger, telling of Him who was laid in a manger.
“And the angel said unto them, Fear not for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy,
which shall be to all people.”
U is for Us, to whom Jesus was given to show us the way and take us to heaven.
“For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.”
V is for Virgin, foretold by the sage, God’s revelation on prophecy’s page.
“Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a Son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel,
which being interpreted is, God with us.”
W is for Wonderful, His works and His words, the King of all Kings, the Lord of all Lords.
“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given… and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor,
The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.”
X is for Christ. It’s X in the Greek, Anointed, Messiah, mighty, yet meek.
“God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power.”
Y is for Yes, called God’s Yes in His Word; God’s answer to all is Jesus the Lord.
“For all the promises of God in him are yea, and in him Amen, unto the glory of God by us.”
2 Corinthians 1:20.
Z is for Zeal as it burned in Christ’s heart. Lord, by thy Spirit to us zeal impart.
“And his disciples remembered that it was written, the zeal of your house has eaten me up.”
Robert Louis Stevenson’s beautiful Christmas prayer encourages readers to reflect on the true meaning of Christmas.
A Christmas Prayer
By Robert Louis Stevenson
help us remember the birth of Jesus,
that we may share in the song of the angels,
the gladness of the shepherds,
and worship of the wise men.
Close the door of hate
and open the door of love all over the world.
Let kindness come with every gift
and good desires with every greeting.
Deliver us from evil by the blessing
which Christ brings,
and teach us to be merry with clear hearts.
May the Christmas morning
make us happy to be thy children,
and Christmas evening bring us to our beds
with grateful thoughts,
forgiving and forgiven,
for Jesus’ sake.
This Bible reading from the Old Testament foretells the birth of Jesus who will save us from our sins.
For unto us a Child is born,
For unto us a Son is given;
and the government shall be upon His shoulders,
and His name shall be called wonderful, counsellor,
the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father,
the Prince of Peace.
Capture young children’s attention with this sweet Christmas reading about the star of Bethlehem, a story told by Mother Moon to the little stars that surround her.
A Christmas Star
By Katherine Pyle
“Come now, my dear little stars,” said Mother Moon, “and I will tell you the Christmas story.”
Every morning for a week before Christmas, Mother Moon used to call all the little stars around her and tell them a story.
It was always the same story, but the stars never wearied of it. It was the story of the Christmas star — the Star of Bethlehem.
When Mother Moon had finished the story the little stars always said: “And the star is shining still, isn’t it, Mother Moon,
even if we can’t see it?”
And Mother Moon would answer: “Yes, my dears, only now it shines for men’s hearts instead of their eyes.”
Then the stars would bid the Mother Moon good-night and put on their little blue nightcaps and go to bed in the sky chamber; for the stars’ bedtime is when people down on the earth are beginning to waken and see that it is morning.
But that particular morning when the little stars said good-night and went quietly away, one golden star still
lingered beside Mother Moon.
“What is the matter, my little star?” asked the Mother Moon. “Why don’t you go with your little sisters?”
“Oh, Mother Moon,” said the golden star. “I am so sad! I wish I could shine for some one’s heart like that star of wonder
that you tell us about.”
“Why, aren’t you happy up here in the sky country?” asked Mother Moon.
“Yes, I have been very happy,” said the star; “but tonight it seems just as if I must find some heart to shine for.”
“Then if that is so,” said Mother Moon, “the time has come, my little star, for you to go through the Wonder Entry.”
“The Wonder Entry? What is that?” asked the star. But the Mother Moon made no answer.
Rising, she took the little star by the hand and led it to a door that it had never seen before.
The Mother Moon opened the door, and there was a long dark entry; at the far end was shining a little speck of light.
“What is this?” asked the star.
“It is the Wonder Entry; and it is through this that you must go to find the heart where you belong,” said the Mother Moon.
Then the little star was afraid.
It longed to go through the entry as it had never longed for anything before; and yet it was afraid and clung to the Mother Moon.
But very gently, almost sadly, the Mother Moon drew her hand away. “Go, my child,” she said.
Then, wondering and trembling, the little star stepped into the Wonder Entry, and the door of the sky house closed behind it.
The next thing the star knew it was hanging in a toy shop with a whole row of other stars blue and red and silver. It itself was gold. The shop smelled of evergreen, and was full of Christmas shoppers, men and women and children; but of them all, the star looked at no one but a little boy standing in front of the counter;
for as soon as the star saw the child it knew that he was the one to whom it belonged.
The little boy was standing beside a sweet-faced woman in a long black veil and he was not looking at anything in particular.
The star shook and trembled on the string that held it, because it was afraid lest the child would not see it, or lest, if he did, he would not know it as his star.
The lady had a number of toys on the counter before her, and she was saying: “Now I think we have presents for every one: There’s the doll for Lou, and the game for Ned, and the music box for May; and then the rocking horse and the sled.”
Suddenly the little boy caught her by the arm. “Oh, mother,” he said. He had seen the star.
“Well, what is it, darling?” asked the lady.
“Oh, mother, just see that star up there! I wish – oh, I do wish I had it.”
“Oh, my dear, we have so many things for the Christmas tree,” said the mother.
“Yes, I know, but I do want the star,” said the child.
“Very well,” said the mother, smiling; “then we will take that, too.”
So the star was taken down from the place where it hung and wrapped up in a piece of paper, and all the while it thrilled with joy, for now it belonged to the little boy.
It was not until the afternoon before Christmas, when the tree was being decorated,
that the golden star was unwrapped and taken out from the paper.
“Here is something else,” said the sweet-faced lady. “We must hang this on the tree. Paul took such a fancy to it that I had to get it for him. He will never be satisfied unless we hang it on too.”
“Oh, yes,” said some one else who was helping to decorate the tree; “we will hang it here on the very top.”
So the little star hung on the highest branch of the Christmas-tree.
That evening all the candles were lighted on the Christmas tree, and there were so many that they fairly dazzled the eyes; and the gold and silver balls, the fairies and the glass fruits, shone and twinkled in the light;
and high above them all shone the golden star.
At seven o’clock a bell was rung, and then the folding doors of the room where the Christmas tree stood were thrown open,
and a crowd of children came trooping in.
They laughed and shouted and pointed, and all talked together, and after a while there was music,
and presents were taken from the tree and given to the children.
How different it all was from the great wide, still sky house!
But the star had never been so happy in all its life; for the little boy was there.
He stood apart from the other children, looking up at the star, with his hands clasped behind him,
and he did not seem to care for the toys and the games.
At last it was all over. The lights were put out, the children went home, and the house grew still.
Then the ornaments on the tree began to talk among themselves.
“So that is all over,” said a silver ball. “It was very gay this evening — the gayest Christmas I remember.”
“Yes,” said a glass bunch of grapes; “the best of it is over. Of course people will come to look at us for several days yet, but it won’t be like this evening.”
“And then I suppose we’ll be laid away for another year,” said a paper fairy. “Really it seems hardly worth while. Such a few days out of the year and then to be shut up in the dark box again. I almost wish I were a paper doll.”
The bunch of grapes was wrong in saying that people would come to look at the Christmas-tree the next few days, for it stood neglected in the library and nobody came near it. Everybody in the house went about very quietly, with anxious faces; for the little boy was ill.
At last, one evening, a woman came into the room with a servant. The woman wore the cap and apron of a nurse.
“That is it,” she said, pointing to the golden star. The servant climbed up on some steps and took down the star and put it in the nurse’s hand, and she carried it out into the hall and upstairs to a room where the little boy lay.
The sweet-faced lady was sitting by the bed, and as the nurse came in she held out her hand for the star.
“Is this what you wanted, my darling?” she asked, bending over the little boy.
The child nodded and held out his hands for the star;
and as he clasped it a wonderful, shining smile came over his face.
The next morning the little boy’s room was very still and dark.
The golden piece of paper that had been the star lay on a table beside the bed, its five points very sharp and bright.
But it was not the real star, any more than a person’s body is the real person.
The real star was living and shining now in the little boy’s heart, and it had gone out with him into a new and more beautiful sky country than it had ever known before — the sky country where the little child angels live,
each one carrying in its heart its own particular star.
The Christian Christmas reading is about the spirit of truly giving and at how any age, people can be selfless. It is a beautiful reading about the true meaning of Christmas.
Little Gretchen and the Wooden Shoe
By Elizabeth Harrison
Once upon a time, so long ago that everybody has forgotten the date, in a city in the north of Europe, with such a hard name that nobody can ever remember it, there was a little seven-year-old boy named Wolff, whose parents were dead, who lived with a cross and stingy old aunt, who never thought of kissing him more than once a year and
who sighed deeply whenever she gave him a bowlful of soup.
But the poor little fellow had such a sweet nature that in spite of everything, he loved the old woman, although he was terribly afraid of her and could never look at her ugly old face without shivering.
As this aunt of little Wolff was known to have a house of her own and an old woollen stocking full of gold, she had not dared to send the boy to a charity school; but, in order to get a reduction in the price, she had so wrangled with the master of the school, to which little Wolff finally went, that this bad man, vexed at having a pupil so poorly dressed and paying so little, often punished him unjustly, and even prejudiced his companions against him, so that the three boys, all sons of rich parents, made a drudge and laughing stock of the little fellow.
The poor little one was thus as wretched as a child could be and used to hide himself in corners to weep
whenever Christmas time came.
It was the schoolmaster’s custom to take all his pupils to the midnight mass on Christmas Eve,
and to bring them home again afterward.
Now, as the winter this year was very bitter, and as heavy snow had been falling for several days, all the boys came well bundled up in warm clothes, with fur caps pulled over their ears, padded jackets, gloves and knitted mittens, and strong, thick-soled boots. Only little Wolff presented himself shivering in the poor clothes he used to wear both weekdays and Sundays and having on his feet only thin socks in heavy wooden shoes.
His naughty companions noticing his sad face and awkward appearance, made many jokes at his expense; but the little fellow was so busy blowing on his fingers, and was suffering so much with chilblains, that he took no notice of them.
So the band of youngsters, walking two and two behind the master, started for the church.
It was pleasant in the church, which was brilliant with lighted candles; and the boys excited by the warmth took advantage of the music of the choir and the organ to chatter among themselves in low tones. They bragged about the fun that was awaiting them at home. The mayor’s son had seen, just before starting off, an immense goose ready stuffed and dressed for cooking. At the alderman’s home there was a little pine-tree with branches laden down with oranges, sweets, and toys. And the lawyer’s cook had put on her cap with such care, as she never thought of taking unless she was expecting something very good!
Then they talked, too, of all that the Christ-Child was going to bring them, of all he was going to put in their shoes which, you might be sure, they would take good care to leave in the chimney place before going to bed; and the eyes of these little urchins, as lively as a cage of mice, were sparkling in advance over the joy they would have when they awoke in the morning and saw the pink bag full of sugar-plums, the little lead soldiers ranged in companies in their boxes, the menageries smelling of varnished wood, and the magnificent jumping-jacks in purple and tinsel.
Alas! Little Wolff knew by experience that his old miser of an aunt would send him to bed supperless, but, with childlike faith and certain of having been, all the year, as good and industrious as possible, he hoped that the Christ-Child would not forget him, and so he, too, planned to place his wooden shoes in good time in the fireplace.
Midnight mass over, the worshippers departed, eager for their fun, and the band of pupils always walking two and two, and following the teacher, left the church.
Now, in the porch and seated on a stone bench set in the niche of a painted arch, a child was sleeping, a child in a white woollen garment, but with his little feet bare, in spite of the cold. He was not a beggar, for his garment was white and new, and near him on the floor was a bundle of carpenter’s tools.
In the clear light of the stars, his face, with its closed eyes, shone with an expression of divine sweetness, and his long, curling, blond locks seemed to form a halo about his brow. But his little child’s feet,
made blue by the cold of this bitter December night, were pitiful to see!
The boys so well clothed for the winter weather passed by quite indifferent to the unknown child; several of them, sons of the notables of the town, however, cast on the vagabond looks in which could be read all the scorn of the rich for the poor, of the well-fed for the hungry.
But little Wolff, coming last out of the church, stopped, deeply touched, before the beautiful sleeping child.
“Oh, dear!” said the little fellow to himself, “this is frightful! This poor little one has no shoes and stockings in this bad weather, and, what is still worse, he has not even a wooden shoe to leave near him to-night while he sleeps,
into which the little Christ-Child can put something good to soothe his misery.”
And carried away by his loving heart, Wolff drew the wooden shoe from his right foot, laid it down before the sleeping child, and, as best he could, sometimes hopping, sometimes limping with his sock wet by the snow,
he went home to his aunt.
“Look at the good-for-nothing!” cried the old woman, full of wrath at the sight of the shoeless boy.
“What have you done with your shoe, you little villain?”
Little Wolff did not know how to lie, so, although trembling with terror when he saw the rage of the old shrew,
he tried to relate his adventure.
But the miserly old creature only burst into a frightful fit of laughter.
“Aha! So my young gentleman strips himself for the beggars. Aha! My young gentleman breaks his pair of shoes for a bare-foot! Here is something new, forsooth. Very well, since it is this way, I shall put the only shoe that is left into the chimney-place, and I’ll answer for it that the Christ-Child will put in something tonight to beat you with in the morning!
And you will have only a crust of bread and water to-morrow. And we shall see if the next time,
you will be giving your shoes to the first vagabond that happens along.”
And the wicked woman having boxed the ears of the poor little fellow, made him climb up into the loft
where he had his wretched cubbyhole.
Desolate, the child went to bed in the dark and soon fell asleep, but his pillow was wet with tears.
But behold! The next morning when the old woman, awakened early by the cold, went downstairs, oh, wonder of wonders, she saw the big chimney filled with shining toys, bags of magnificent bonbons, and riches of every sort, and standing out in front of all this treasure, was the right wooden shoe which the boy had given to the little vagabond, yes, and beside it, the one which she had placed in the chimney to hold the bunch of switches.
As little Wolff, attracted by the cries of his aunt, stood in an ecstasy of childish delight before the splendid Christmas gifts, shouts of laughter were heard outside. The woman and child ran out to see what all this meant, and behold! All the gossips of the town were standing around the public fountain. What could have happened? Oh, a most ridiculous and extraordinary thing!
The children of the richest men in the town, whom their parents had planned to surprise with the most beautiful presents had found only switches in their shoes!
Then the old woman and the child thinking of all the riches in their chimney were filled with fear. But suddenly they saw the priest appear, his countenance full of astonishment. Just above the bench placed near the door of the church, in the very spot where, the night before, a child in a white garment and with bare feet, in spite of the cold, had rested his lovely head,
the priest had found a circlet of gold imbedded in the old stones.
Then, they all crossed themselves devoutly, perceiving that this beautiful sleeping child with the carpenter’s tools had been Jesus of Nazareth himself, who had come back for one hour just as he had been when he used to work in the home of his parents; and reverently they bowed before this miracle,which the good God had done to reward the faith and the love of a little child.
Christian Christmas Poems For Church Services
This religious Christmas poem is perfect for church services as it speaks about the true meaning of Christmas, which is about love.
The Meaning of Christmas
Far away in Bethlehem, a baby boy was born,
Born with neither riches, nor with fame,
Yet wise men came from all around to bring Him their gifts,
And peace was felt by all who heard His name.
Angels watched him as he slept, and gently rocked His bed,
Their voices singing softly in His ear;
His mother and his father both gave thanks to God above
For the greatest gift of all, their Son, so dear.
They knew His life upon this earth would not be filled with wealth,
They also knew He would encounter strife;
But most of all, they knew that He would be a loving Child,
And teach the love of God throughout His life.
At Christmas we celebrate this birth of Jesus Christ,
Let’s keep in mind the truth of Christmas Day;
For it’s not the Christmas wrappings, nor not the gifts that lie within,
But our gift of love to others in every way…
When looking for Christmas poems for church services, consider this beautiful sonnet celebrating the birth of Baby Jesus.
By Douglas Knighton
We gaze, O God, at kids when they arrive.
We stare, amazed as tiny hands and feet
Emerge into the world where they will strive
And work and strain to make their lives complete.
We think of all the effort they’ll expend
To overcome the obstacles they face,
When what they really need’s a royal friend
Who’ll open wide for them the door to grace.
Today we celebrate the child who came
From Jesse’s root and David’s family,
According to the promise in your Word,
Who’ll govern justly in the Father’s name,
Securing grace, for which they’ll happily
Proclaim him as their everlasting Lord.
This Christmas poem would be a wonderful addition to any church service. The cadence of the poem reminds us of classic Christmas hymns like “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.”
The Desire Of All Nations Came
By Margaret Cagle
Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!
The Desire of all nations came!
He came to save us from our sin.
Jesus Christ is His holy name!
All nations desire a leader
Who will bring peace to the earth.
The Desire of all nations came
At the advent of Jesus’ birth.
“Glory to God in the highest!”
Sang the angels, a glorious sight!
“Peace on earth, good will to men.”
The Saviour was born that night!
God sent His only begotten Son
From His home in Heaven above.
God sent His only Son to die
Out of His great, tremendous love!
Jesus came to this earth below.
He came to die for the sins of all.
He arose, and He lives forever.
Upon the Saviour, let us call!
This Christmas poem reminds church goers that Christmas should be about remembering Christ and his birth, instead of primarily focusing on getting gifts and food-laden family festivities.
By Larry D Crawford
Yes, Christmas is the time,
Where little boys and girls.
Will finally receive,
Long sought for special toys.
A time when moms,
Bake cakes and pies.
When folks will gather,
Of renewing family ties.
And ones who rarely smile,
Have grins upon their face.
Those who always hurry by,
Have greetings in there place,
They don’t even comprehend,
They say, “tis the season,”
Go on their merry way,
And never know the reason.
I wonder why that is,
Why all that “peace on earth”
It started in a stable,
With a virgin giving birth.
It’s a love I can’t explain,
I will not even try.
That God would send his son,
Born – just to die.
But isn’t it ironical,
though Him no honor pay,
The world spends its millions
To celebrate His day!
This religious poem for church invites us to keep the spirit of Christmas in our hearts every day, and not just on December 25.
Christmas’ True Meaning
By Deborah Ann Belka
Let Christmas’ true meaning,
rise up in you today…
may you see the real splendor
of Jesus’ birth on this day.
May His beauty and grandeur,
cause your heart to sing
may the gift of His excellence
become your eternal spring.
May His majesty you behold,
with all dignity and honour
may the fullness of His truth
glorify His heavenly Father.
May the wonder of His grace,
reveal its magnificence in you
may the gratefulness you feel
be in all you say and do.
Let Christmas’ true meaning,
bring your Saviour near today
may you see the need for Him
today, and every day.
This religious Christmas poem is simple, yet captures the joy of Baby Jesus’ birth, as well as the importance of the work He will grow up to do.
Little Baby Jesus
By Deborah Ann Belka
Little baby Jesus,
so soft and so sweet
one day would have nails
pounded into His feet.
Tightly swaddled now,
in His mother’s loving arms
one day He would wear
a crown of prickly thorns.
Small cooing sounds,
He now softly sighs
one day to His Father
He’ll moan forsaken cries.
Wise Men bring to Him,
gifts meant for a King
one day to a cross
His life will painfully cling.
Little baby Jesus,
so soft and so sweet
came into the world
so Satan He could defeat.
This Christian Christmas poem is inspired by the Bible prophesy found in Isaiah 9:6: “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given… and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.” It would be a perfect poem to read or recite at any church service.
On This Christmas Morn
By Deborah Ann Belka
A promise to the world,
a child to be given
so many years foretold
so all could be forgiven.
Moonless night shining,
with the Morning Star
calling watchful shepherds
to come from afar.
Wise Men carry gifts,
meant for only a King
angels up in heaven
Glory ~ Glory ~ sing.
God became a man,
the Good News is born
begotten Son arrives
on this Christmas morn.
Our mighty God concedes,
to the wickedness of man
the Prince of Peace comes
to bridge the empty span.
Wonderful is His name,
Counselor to the meek
the Son was born of flesh
to give power to the weak.
Our everlasting Father,
knows our fallen state
so He sent His only Son
to save us from our fate.
A promise to the world,
our Lord and Savior is born
sing ~ Praises to His Glory ~
on this Christmas morn.
This next Christmas poem is appropriate for church services as it speaks about all the promises that accompanied the birth of Baby Jesus. Christ is the Truth, the Light, the Way, the Bread of Life, the Door, the Lamb, and the Prince of Peace.
Rejoice This Christmas Day
By Deborah Ann Belka
Unto us a Son was given,
rejoice this Christmas day,
a gift from God to you and I,
the Truth, the Light, the Way.
To the world a Savior’s born,
rejoice this Christmas day,
He fills the soul’s hunger pain,
the Bread, the Life, the Way.
To every heart bound in sin,
rejoice this Christmas day,
the gift of grace will set you free,
the Christ, the Lord, the Way.
To thirsty souls everywhere,
rejoice this Christmas day,
and drink from the Fountain of Life,
the Grace, the Mercy, the Way.
To all those who are heavy-laden,
rejoice this Christmas day,
for He is the Prince of our Peace,
the Door, the Lamb, the Way.
Rejoice on this Christmas day,
your Lord and Saviour is here,
rejoice, I say again rejoice,
let His birth bring your heart cheer.
This is one of our favourite religious Christmas poetry because it considers what it personally cost God to send Jesus to our world to save us from our sins. It must have broken God’s heart to be parted from His Beloved Son.
Christmas: A Part of Christ’s Story
By Margaret Cagle
To me, Christmas has great meaning.
It is really a part of Christ’s story.
He came to this earth to die for us
From His beautiful home in Glory.
I wonder how His own Father felt
When it was time for Him to depart.
When in His love, He sent Jesus,
Did great sadness fill His heart?
God, in His love, sent His only Son.
For our sins, He was crucified.
This was the reason for His coming.
For the sins of mankind, He died.
Christ’s story then continues.
In three days, He arose from the dead.
He then had victory over death,
Just like to His disciples he said.
Jesus is now at God’s right hand,
Interceding for us up in Glory.
If we call on Him to save our souls,
We can be a part of Christ’s story.
This poem acknowledges that there are different views about Christmas. The Christian author states that for her, Christmas is a time to reflect on God’s love in sending His son to die for our sins.
I Celebrate His First Coming
By Margaret Cagle
Some Christians say Christmas is pagan,
While others celebrate and rejoice.
Some are really just indifferent.
We are all free to make our choice.
As for me, I really like Christmas.
It is a time to think of God’s love.
I can thank my great Heavenly Father
For sending His Son from up above.
In His great love, God sent Jesus.
Jesus had a very lowly birth.
On a manger bed, He lay His head
When He first came to the earth.
It might not have been in December.
It could have been another date,
But praise God He came to die for us,
So His first coming, I’ll celebrate.
Religious Christmas Readings for Church Services
When it comes to Christmas readings for church, consider the nativity story from the Book of Luke.
And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David,
which is called Bethlehem, to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.
And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered.
And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger;
because there was no room for them in the inn.
And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”
If you are looking for Christmas readings for church, this next story is about how the birth of Jesus fulfilled the ancient promise that the Lamb of God would be born and save us from our sins.
Shepherds, Angels and a Manger
By Dr. Ralph F. Wilson
The hundreds of sheep were quiet now, except for an occasional bleat. Night had fallen, stars were sharp in the nippy sky, and shepherds reclined on a steep hillside above Bethlehem, watching their flocks.
The men talked quietly, their low voices soothing to the animals. Old Elias had spent his lifetime on these sheepfields. Then there was Judah ben-Ozzri, twenty years old and cynical. His uncle had been imprisoned by Roman occupation troops for some minor offense. When he could, Judah plotted secretly with a unit of Zealot guerrillas. David, Israel’s greatest king, had been a shepherd on Bethlehem’s hills a millennium before. As a teenager, David had defeated the giant Goliath and thrown off the yoke of Philistine tyranny. Judah ben-Ozzri longed to do the same. If only a Leader, a Deliver, would come
and drive the cursed Romans from their land!
“The lambs will all die before long,” he muttered darkly. “Only the ewes will survive.”
“Eh?” said Elias, a bit too loudly. His hearing had faded over the years.
Judah spoke a bit louder, “The ewes will be sheared next summer, and bear more lambs, but the lambs themselves….”
“What?” asked Elias, leaning closer.
“The lambs,” said Judah loudly into his ear, “won’t live beyond Passover. In the Jerusalem temple, they’ll be sacrificed.”
“Ah, Passover in the temple,” returned Elias. “On the Holy Day they’ll sacrifice a lamb for each family.”
Jerusalem and its temple were just six miles north of Bethlehem, and supplying lambs for the Passover sacrifice was these shepherds’ livelihood.
“Passover…” reflected the old man. “I wish I could have seen the first Passover!”
Elias would rather talk than listen, since it was hard for him to catch the words when others spoke.
“Moses was our Deliverer on that first Passover night when God’s judgment fell upon Egypt.” As he spoke, his listeners could picture the destroying angel that had passed through Egypt. “The Egyptian firstborn were killed,” said Elias, “but each Israelite slave family had sacrificed a precious lamb, and put its blood across the top and on both sides of their doorways. Their sins were atoned for, the lamb’s life for theirs. And God’s terrible judgment passed over them.”
“The ewes will live on,” repeated Judah, “but the lambs will be sacrificed.”
“What?” said Elias, but Judah didn’t say it again.
“I don’t think I’d like to be a lamb,” the youngest shepherd said solemnly.
The shepherds now fell silent, and tugged their heavy cloaks about them to shelter them from the whistling wind. Their eyes were accustomed to the blackness. Every few moments they would look up to scan the hills for wolves or thieves. They weren’t about to lose sheep by carelessness.
All of a sudden their hillside was flooded by the light of a thousand arc lamps, blinding them with its intensity. When they could finally see, a man in shining apparel stood before them. “Do not be afraid,” he declared in the ringing voice of a herald.
“I bring you good news of great joy
that will be for all the people.
Today in the town of David
a Deliverer has been born to you.
He is the Lord’s Messiah.”
“The Messiah! The Deliverer!” breathed Judah ben-Ozzri. “He is come at last to set our people free.”
They could scarcely comprehend. Good news! Great joy! In the town of David, the Son of David is born this night. The Lord’s Messiah! The shining man, glowing with the very Shekinah glory of God, had declared it. It must be so!
The angel continued: “This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying an a manger.”
What a strange sign. But there was no time to think.
Now the shining angel drew himself to full height, and as he opened out his arms, the radiance and glory upon him began to spread until it covered rank after rank of angels, the heavenly host, the army of God himself — more and more, company after company, battalion after battalion, began to fill the sky. And now they began to chant, to shout in unison.
“Glory to God in highest.”
The sound bounced off the hills and echoed from the valleys, like the rumble of thunder, like the roar of a great waterfall, the shout of triumph reverberated. The shout of worship, the shout of honor, the shout of glorious praise.
“Glory to God in the highest,” they shouted together with one enormous voice of worship.
“Glory to God in the highest,” they chanted in unison, the overwhelming resonance blotting out everything else and infecting shepherds with its utter joy. The host of God, overcome with awe at the archangel words, now shouted again, “Glory to God in the highest! And on earth Shalom — peace — to those whom God has favored.”
Again and again the waves of praise rolled over the hillsides, until finally the voices began to fade, and only in the distance could the shepherds still hear shouts of “Glory, glory, glory,” that finally diminished to silence at last. The brilliant light, too, was fading, like the final streaks of sunlight dipping below the horizon and painting the clouds red and pink in departing splendor.
Old Elias was first to speak, “Praise the Lord, dear friends. We have witnessed what the prophets only dreamed of.”
“Angels,” breathed the youngest.
“The hosts of God’s army,” said Judah.
“Something greater still,” Elias said. “The chance to see the Lord’s Messiah with our own eyes. You heard the angel. He’s here, yonder in Bethlehem, and we must find him. The angel told us how — a baby, wrapped in the swaddling bands of a newborn, lying in a manger…. A manger,” repeated the old man.
You could find dozens of cattle troughs if you searched all the outlying farms, but a manger with a newborn lying in it — that was the sign! In Bethlehem itself, Elias could think of just one — inside a cave at the very edge of town where travelers’ animals were quartered. The old man careened down the hillside at a pace that left the younger shepherds breathless. He was ahead of them now, almost running to the cave behind the inn.
When they finally caught up, the old man was standing at the doorway to the cave, tears running down his cheeks.
“The Son of David,” he was saying, “The Lord’s Messiah. The Deliverer has come.”
The shepherds moved inside and knelt at the manger, peering at the sleeping baby boy, all tightly wrapped in swaddling bands.
The youngest explained to the mother, “An angel told us,” he stammered, “and then thousands, millions of angels filled the sky, lit up with God’s light. ‘Glory to God,’ they shouted, and we joined them until we were hoarse, until they were gone.”
Then Elias addressed her. “Young woman, mother of this blessed Child. You are one of the favored ones of whom the angels spoke, upon whom God’s glory and grace is resting tonight.”
You could see her lips form the words, “Yes, I know,” but no voice came.
The old shepherd went on, “The angel told us that your Child is God’s promised Messiah, our Deliverer.”
Then the old man was silent. He just knelt there for a few more moments. Finally he rose up, took the mother’s hand, and pressed it with his own. “God has entrusted you to raise his own Son, my dear. Our prayers are with you.”
He motioned his compatriots towards the door, and they got up, leaving the cave and its manger and its Christ-Child. Nor were the shepherds silent about what they had seen. They spread the good news far and wide.
Then they went back to their flocks, and carefully tended lambs that were destined for sacrifice on Passover. And though they could not know or understand it, the baby Deliverer in the manger would not challenge the Roman oppressors, but instead deliver us from the sin and death that oppress us all. For these lamb-herders had seen God’s Lamb,
born to be a Passover sacrifice for the sins of the entire world.
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, Shalom, for us all.
Still looking for Christmas readings for church? This next story is about a young Christ child who wanders through a village on Christmas Eve and blesses everyone who welcomes Him into their homes.
A Story of the Christ-Child – A German Legend for Christmas Eve
As Told By Elizabeth Harrison
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, on the night before Christmas, a little child was wandering
all alone through the streets of a great city.
There were many people on the street, fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts,
and even gray-haired grandfathers and grandmothers,
all of whom were hurrying home with bundles of presents for each other and for their little ones.
Fine carriages rolled by, express wagons rattled past, even old carts were pressed into service, and all things seemed
in a hurry and glad with expectation of the coming Christmas morning.
From some of the windows bright lights were already beginning to stream until it was almost as bright as day.
But the little child seemed to have no home, and wandered about listlessly from street to street.
No one took any notice of him except perhaps Jack Frost, who bit his bare toes and made the ends of his fingers tingle.
The north wind, too, seemed to notice the child, for it blew against him and pierced his ragged garments through and through, causing him to shiver with cold.
Home after home he passed, looking with longing eyes through the windows, in upon the glad, happy children,
most of whom were helping to trim the Christmas trees for the coming morrow.
“Surely,” said the child to himself, “where there is so must gladness and happiness, some of it may be for me.”
So with timid steps he approached a large and handsome house.
Through the windows, he could see a tall and stately Christmas tree already lighted. Many presents hung upon it.
Its green boughs were trimmed with gold and silver ornaments.
Slowly he climbed up the broad steps and gently rapped at the door. It was opened by a large man-servant.
He had a kindly face, although his voice was deep and gruff.
He looked at the little child for a moment, then sadly shook his head and said, “Go down off the steps.
There is no room here for such as you.”
He looked sorry as he spoke; possibly he remembered his own little ones at home,
and was glad that they were not out in this cold and bitter night.
Through the open door a bright light shone, and the warm air, filled with fragrance of the Christmas pine,
rushed out from the inner room and greeted the little wanderer with a kiss.
As the child turned back into the cold and darkness, he wondered why the footman had spoken thus,
for surely, thought he, those little children would love to have another companion join them in their joyous Christmas festival.
But the little children inside did not even know that he had knocked at the door.
The street grew colder and darker as the child passed on. He went sadly forward, saying to himself,
“Is there no one in all this great city who will share the Christmas with me?”
Farther and farther down the street he wandered, to where the homes were not so large and beautiful. There seemed to be little children inside of nearly all the houses. They were dancing and frolicking about.
Christmas trees could be seen in nearly every window, with beautiful dolls and trumpets
and picture-books and balls and tops and other dainty toys hung upon them.
In one window the child noticed a little lamb made of soft white wool. Around its neck was tied a red ribbon.
It had evidently been hung on the tree for one of the children.
The little stranger stopped before this window and looked long and earnestly at the beautiful things inside,
but most of all was he drawn toward the white lamb.
At last creeping up to the window-pane, he gently tapped upon it.
A little girl came to the window and looked out into the dark street where the snow had now begun to fall. She saw the child, but she only frowned and shook her head and said,
“Go away and come some other time. We are too busy to take care of you now.”
Back into the dark, cold streets he turned again.
The wind was whirling past him and seemed to say, “Hurry on, hurry on, we have no time to stop.
‘Tis Christmas Eve and everybody is in a hurry to-night.”
Again and again the little child rapped softly at door or window-pane. At each place he was refused admission.
One mother feared he might have some ugly disease, which her darlings would catch;
another father said he had only enough for his own children and none to spare for beggars.
Still another told him to go home where he belonged, and not to trouble other folks.
The hours passed; later grew the night, and colder grew the wind, and darker seemed the street.
Farther and farther the little one wandered.
There was scarcely any one left upon the street by this time, and the few who remained did not seem to see the child,
when suddenly ahead of him there appeared a bright, single ray of light.
It shone through the darkness into the child’s eyes.
He looked up smilingly and said, “I will go where the small light beckons, perhaps they will share their Christmas with me.”
Hurrying past all the other houses, he soon reached the end of the street and went straight up to the window from which the light was streaming.
It was a poor, little, low house, but the child cared not for that.The light seemed still to call him in.
From what do you suppose the light came?
Nothing but a tallow candle, which had been placed in an old cup with a broken handle, in the window, as a glad token of Christmas Eve.
There was neither curtain nor shade to the small, square window and as the little child looked in he saw standing upon a neat wooden table a branch of a Christmas tree.
The room was plainly furnished but it was very clean.
Near the fireplace sat a lovely faced mother with a little two-year-old on her knee and an older child beside her.
The two children were looking into their mother’s face and listening to a story.
She must have been telling them a Christmas story, I think.
A few bright coals were burning in the fireplace, and all seemed light and warm within.
The little wanderer crept closer and closer to the window-pane.
So sweet was the mother’s face, so loving seemed the little children, that at last he took courage and tapped gently,
very gently on the door. The mother stopped talking, the little children looked up.
“What was that, mother?” asked the little girl at her side.
“I think it was some one tapping on the door,” replied the mother.
“Run as quickly as you can and open it, dear, for it is a bitter cold night to keep any one waiting in this storm.”
“Oh, mother, I think it was the bough of the tree tapping against the window-pane,” said the little girl.
“Do please go on with our story.”
Again the little wanderer tapped upon the door.
“My child, my child,” exclaimed the mother, rising, “that certainly was a rap on the door.
Run quickly and open it. No one must be left out in the cold on our beautiful Christmas Eve.”
The child ran to the door and threw it wide open.
The mother saw the ragged stranger standing without, cold and shivering, with bare head and almost bare feet.
She held out both hands and drew him into the warm, bright room.
“You poor, dear child,” was all she said, and putting her arms around him, she drew him close to her breast.
“He is very cold, my children,” she exclaimed. “We must warm him.”
“And,” added the little girl, “we must love him and give him some of our Christmas, too.”
“Yes,” said the mother, “but first let us warm him…”
The mother sat down by the fire with the little child on her lap, and her own little ones
warmed his half-frozen hands in theirs.
The mother smoothed his tangled curls, and, bending low over his head, kissed the child’s face.
She gathered the three little ones in her arms and the candle and the fire light shone over them.
For a moment the room was very still.
By and by the little girl said softly, to her mother,
“May we not light the Christmas tree, and let him see how beautiful it looks?” “Yes,” said the mother.
With that she seated the child on a low stool beside the fire, and went herself to fetch the few simple ornaments
which from year to year she had saved for her children’s Christmas tree.
They were soon so busy that they did not notice the room had filled with a strange and brilliant light.
They turned and looked at the spot where the little wanderer sat.
His ragged clothes had changed to garments white and beautiful;
his tangled curls seemed like a halo of golden light about his head;
but most glorious of all was his face, which shone with a light so dazzling that they could scarcely look upon it.
In silent wonder they gazed at the child.
Their little room seemed to grow larger and larger, until it was as wide as the whole world,
the roof of their low house seemed to expand and rise, until it reached to the sky.
With a sweet and gentle smile the wonderful child looked upon them for a moment,
and then slowly rose and floated through the air, above the treetops, beyond the church spire, higher even than the clouds themselves, until he appeared to them to be a shining star in the sky above.
At last he disappeared from sight.
The astonished children turned in hushed awe to their mother, and said in a whisper,
“Oh, mother, it was the Christ Child, was it not?”
And the mother answered in a low tone, “Yes.”
And it is said, dear children, that each Christmas Eve the little Christ Child
wanders through some town or village, and those who receive him and take him into their homes
and hearts have given to them this marvelous vision which is denied to others.
Christian Christmas Poems For Carol Concerts
It seems as if this religious Christmas poem was specifically written for candlelight carol concerts! We particularly love the imagery of the ending: “And all the time that we must be apart, I keep a candle in my heart.”
By Mary E. Linton
Somewhere across the winter world tonight
You will be hearing chimes that fill the air;
Christmas extends its all-enfolding light
Across the distance, something we can share.
You will be singing, just the same as I,
These familiar songs we know so well;
And you will see these same stars in your sky
And wish upon that brightest one that fell.
I shall remember you and trim my tree,
One shining star upon the topmost bough;
I will hang wreaths of faith that all may see,
Tonight I glimpse beyond the here and now.
And all the time that we must be apart,
I keep a candle in my heart.
Famed American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote the poem “Christmas Bells” on December 25, 1864, shortly before the end of the American Civil War
Longfellow crafted this poem to express the years of despair from the horrors of the war that had raged across the states, but ends the poem with a message of hope.
The original poem had seven stanzas, but in 1872 John Baptiste Calkin took out two stanzas referencing the American Civil War and gave us the memorable Christmas carol we know today as “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.”
This Christmas poem would be a welcomed addition to any carol concert.
I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I heard the bells on Christmas day
their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And though how, as the day had come,
the belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace of earth, good will to men.
Till ringing, singing on its way
the world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace of earth, good will to men.
And in despair I bowed my head
“There is no peach on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace of earth, good will to men.”
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
the wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.”
If you are looking for a Christmas poem for a carol concert, consider this next beautiful poem about three candles. The first candle lights the Christmas tree; the second candle lights Baby Jesus’s way; while the third candle comforts a poor child in pain.
The Three Candles
By Evaleen Stein
When the Christmas-tide drew nigh,
On a shelf three candles bright,
Two were red and one was white,
Waited for who came to buy.
Said the first one, “I shall be
Chosen for a Christmas-tree!”
Said the second, “I shall light
Christ Jesus on His way to-night!”
Then the third one sighed, “Ah me,
I know not what my lot will be!”
When the dark fell, bright and gay
The first candle burned away,
Red as all the berries red
On the holly overhead,
While the children in their glee
Danced around the Christmas-tree.
And the second, twinkling bright,
Poured forth all its golden light
Through a window decked with green
Garlands and red ribbons’ sheen,
So the Christ-child when He came
Might be guided by its flame.
But the third one in the gloom
Of a bare and cheerless room
Softly burned where long had lain
A poor little child in pain,
And the baby in its bed
By the light was comforted.
When the Christ-child passed that night
All three candles gave Him light,
But the brightest was the spark
By the baby in the dark.
This spiritual Christmas poem is by famed British poet Alfred Lord Tennyson. With his beautiful words, we can image how quiet and still all nature was, waiting for the birth of Baby Jesus. This poem would be perfect for carol concerts.
The Time Draws Near
By Alfred Lord Tennyson
The time draws near the birth of Christ:
The moon is hid; the night is still;
The Christmas bells from hill to hill
Answer each other in the mist.
Four voices of four hamlets round,
From far and near, on mead and moor,
Swell out and fail, as if a door
Were shut between me and the sound:
Each voice four changes on the wind,
That now dilate, and new decrease,
Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace,
Peace and goodwill, to all mankind.
This Christian Christmas poem is like a beautiful baby’s lullaby. Soft, soothing, and filled with love. This poem could be recited at Sunday School or carol concerts by young children.
Manger Song (Modified)
By Frederick M. Lynk
Young Mary the mother
gazed fondly at Him,
and softly touched
the manger’s rim
Joseph sat musing
on a bundle of hay,
the shepherds played sweetly
a small harp lay.
The angels stood smiling
in heaven’s joy,
and humbling adoring
the infant Christ boy.
The ox and the donkey
forgot the fresh straw,
and knelt down in wonder
at what they saw.
The walls were shining
like molten gold;
The winds sang gaily,
around the fold.
And gleaming silver
strewed every star,
and sang a star greeting
from heaven afar.
This religious Christmas poem would be appropriate for carol concerts. It speaks of music and blinding joy at the birth of God’s own Son.
By Nancy Buckley
There is faint music in the night,
And pale wings fanned by silver flight;
A frosty hill with tender glow
Of countless stars that shine on snow.
A shelter from the winter storm,
A straw-lined manger, safe and warm,
And Mary crooning lullabies,
To hush her Baby’s sleepy sighs.
Her eyes are rapt under His face,
Unheeded here is time and space;
Her heart filled with blinding joy,
For God’s own Son, her little Boy!
The tune for “Deck the Halls” is fun to sing, but the lyrics which traditionally accompany the tune don’t express the Christian’s heart.
This spiritual poem celebrates the true meaning of Christmas and takes advantage of the familiar sounds of a delightful tune.
All the Angels Sing
By Douglas Knighton
Jesus came to be our Saviour,
All the angels sang and God rejoiced!
Came to bring us Heaven’s favour,
All the angels sang and God rejoiced!
Born to open Heaven’s treasure,
Key to God’s holiness for all time.
Jesus is the Father’s pleasure,
Sent to us with love and joy sublime.
Jesus came to live among us,
All the angels sang and God rejoiced!
Showed us faith both true and joyous,
All the angels sang and God rejoiced!
Taught and lived God’s good commandments,
Never once sinned at all in his life.
Jesus offers us repentance,
Gave himself for our eternal life.
Jesus came to make us holy,
All the angels sang and God rejoiced!
Came to save us, meek and lowly,
All the angels sang and God rejoiced!
Guides us to Christ-like behavior,
Puts his love for the world in our soul.
Jesus Christ our only savior,
Takes away our sin and makes us whole.
This next Christian Christmas poem is a perfect fit for carol concerts. It reminds us to think about Jesus when we sing Christmas carols.
Carols of Christ
By Robert Hedrick
Though I enjoy some of the jingle bell music we hear in the Christmas season,
My favourites are those carols that tell the world of the true season’s reason.
The ones that put Christ in Christmas and year after year they keep Him there,
For the devil tries to take Him out and there are many who have joined his lair.
Some tell of the miracle God performed when Jesus came on Christmas morn,
For this would be the one and only time that to a virgin a child would be born.
Telling us that He was born in a lowly stable, for there was no room at the inn,
Then of wise men who came bringing gifts to the special baby that lay within.
There are carols telling about angles in heaven praising this new born King,
When they joined together and lifted up their voices to honour Him as they sing.
Others proclaim Christ to be the Saviour that the old prophets had written of,
Who someday would willingly give His life for our sins, doing so through love.
If not for these old carols, some would never hear what Christmas is all about,
Because all too often when Christmas is celebrated, Christ has been left out.
Then my prayer is that they are still being sung as Jesus appears in the sky,
Reminding us, He’s the reason for the season and it was for us He chose to die.
This religious Christmas poem is appropriate for carol concerts, and to recite at nativity scenes. It paints a vivid picture of the Baby Jesus lying in the manger, so meek and mild.
Bring Me to the Manger
By Anna Tucker
Bring me to the manger
For I desire to go,
Bring me to the manger,
For I desire to know,
The Holy child
So meek and mild,
So spotless and undefiled
For dark is this night
And I long e’en for the star
That did guide
The wise men from afar,
To where He lay,
For my soul shall weep and pray
Till I find my way
This lovely poem was inspired by six famous Christmas carols, with each verse reflecting the stanzas of a well-known song. This mash-up is perfect for carol concerts!
All Ye Faithful
By Earl W Haskins
Hark the herald angels sing
A Lamb was born this day
Hail unto this newborn King
We trust Him, come what may
Deck the halls with boughs of holly
Enjoy this time of year
Mindful of our acts of folly
Let’s keep conviction near
O little town of Bethlehem
Or so the carol goes
He didn’t come here to condemn
But save, the Bible shows
God rest ye merry gentlemen
Our battles He will fight
Though often mocked by some of them
Thank God some see the light
Glory be to God on high
All His heavenly host
Happy Holidays” may apply
But “Merry Christmas” most
The first Noel, angels did say
All glory to His name
While in a tomb His body lay
Yet death could never claim
Religious Christmas Readings For Carol Concerts
This first reading is beloved. While the words are simple, the sentiment is beautiful. It would be a perfect addition to a carol concert.
With this Candle
Where there is light, there is hope.
Where there is friendship, peace and truth.
Christmas is a time for celebrating the special people in our lives.
When I cannot find my way, I light a flame.
And at Christmas, I think of you.
This is a popular religious reading at carol concerts, and reminds us that Christmas should be about remembering Christ’s birth, rather than all the gifts and fun times that come with this festive holiday.
Therefore the Lord Himself shall give you a sign;
Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son,
and shall call His name Emmanuel.
This Christmas reading is the real story about the life of Saint Nicholas and his generosity. It would be a wonderful reading to give at a carol concert.
The Real St. Nick (Santa Claus)
By Dr. Ralph F. Wilson
“A vast multitude was imprisoned in every place,” wrote an eyewitness. “The prisons — prepared for murderers and robbers — were filled with bishops, priests, and deacons … so there was no longer room for those condemned of crimes.”*
You’d hardly expect to find old St. Nick in jail. But St. Nicholas is more than a children’s Christmas legend. He was flesh and blood, a prisoner for Christ, bishop of the Mediterranean city of Myra.
What do we know about the real St. Nicholas? He was born, ancient biographers tell us, to wealthy parents in the city of Patara about 270 A.D. He was still young when his mother and father died and left him a fortune.
As a teenager, Nicholas’ humility was already evident. He had heard about a family destitute and starving. The father had no money for food, much less the dowry needed to marry off his three daughters. He was ready to send his oldest girl into the streets to earn a living as a prostitute.
Under the cover of night, Nicholas threw a bag of gold coins through the window of their humble dwelling. In the morning the father discovered the gold. How he rejoiced: his family was saved, his daughter’s honour preserved, and a dowry for her marriage secured. Some time after, Nicholas secretly provided a dowry for the second daughter. Still later for the third.
But on the third occasion, the girls’ father stood watching. As soon as the bag of gold thudded on the floor, he chased after the lad till he caught him. Nicholas was mortified to be discovered in this act of charity. He made the father promise not to tell anyone who had helped his family. Then Nicholas forsook his wealth to answer a call to the ministry.
At the nearby city of Myra a bishop supervised all the churches of the region. When the bishop died, the bishops and ministers from other cities and villages — Nicholas among them — gathered to choose a successor.
Nicholas was in the habit of rising very early and going to the church to pray. This morning an aged minister awaited him in the sanctuary. “Who are you, my son?” he asked.
“Nicholas the sinner,” the young minister replied. “And I am your servant.”
“Come with me,” the old priest directed. Nicholas followed him to a room where the bishops had assembled. The elderly minister addressed the gathering. “I had a vision that the first one to enter the church in the morning should be the new bishop of Myra. Here is that man: Nicholas.”
Indeed they did choose him as bishop. Nicholas was destined to lead his congregation through the worst tribulation in history.
In A.D. 303, the Roman Emperor Diocletian ordered a brutal persecution of all Christians. Those suspected of following the Lord were ordered to sacrifice to pagan gods. Nicholas and thousands of others refused.
Ministers, bishops, and lay people were dragged to prison. Savage tortures were unleashed on Christians all over the empire. Believers were fed to wild animals. Some were forced to fight gladiators for their lives while bloodthirsty crowds screamed for their death. Women suffered dehumanizing torment. Saints were beaten senseless, others set aflame while still alive.
Yet persecution couldn’t stamp out Christianity. Rather it spread. Third Century leader Tertullian observed,
“The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.”
Those who survived Diocletian’s torture chambers were called “saints” or “confessors” by the people, because they didn’t forsake their confession that Jesus Christ is Lord. Nicholas was one of these.
Finally, after years of imprisonment, the iron doors swung open and Bishop Nicholas walked out, freed by decree of the new Emperor Constantine. As he entered his city once more, his people flocked about him. “Nicholas! Confessor!” they shouted. “Saint Nicholas has come home.”
The bishop was beaten but not broken. He served Christ’s people in Myra for another thirty years. Through the prayers of this tried and tested soldier of faith, many found salvation and healing. Nicholas participated in the famous Council of Nicea in 325 A.D. He died on December 6, about 343, a living legend, beloved by his whole city.
St. Nick of yuletide fame still carries faint reminders of this ancient man of God. The color of his outfit recollects the red of bishop’s robes. “Making a list, checking it twice,” probably recalls the old saint’s lectures to children about good behaviour. Gifts secretly brought on Christmas eve bring to mind his humble generosity to the three daughters.
Yet if he were alive today, this saint would humbly deflect attention from himself. No fur-trimmed hat and coat, no reindeer and sleigh or North Pole workshop. As he did in life centuries ago, Bishop Nicholas would point people to his Master.
“I am Nicholas, a sinner,” the old saint would say. “Nicholas, servant of Christ Jesus.”
* NOTES: A great deal of legend has built up around St. Nicholas. The author has carefully selected material which he deemed to be the most credible accounts based on those found in Life of Nicholas by tenth century biographer Symeon Logotheta the Metaphrast, quoted by Charles W. Jones in Saint Nicholas of Myra, Bari, and Manhattan: Biography of a Legend (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1978).
This next Christmas reading is about the three wisemen that travelled a long way to worship Baby Jesus, the King of Kings. Consider this reading if you are participating in, or organizing, a carol concert.
By Dr. Ralph F. Wilson
Christmas recalls the story of travellers propelled by the unhurried rhythm of their animals:
We three kings of Orient are
Bearing gifts we traverse afar,
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Following yonder star.
Why did these wisemen undertake such a journey? A tall astronomer, advisor to the Persian king,
springs from his midnight vigil in the palace courtyard. “Casper, come! Look along the rod I’ve sighted toward the constellation of the Jews.” Casper peers into the blackness.
“Do you see it? That brilliant star is new tonight! It must signify the birth of a mighty king.”
A soft whistle escapes him as he spots it. “There it is!” He’s talking rapidly now. “I’ve read ancient Hebrew scriptures which tell of this ruler’s star.” Rising, he announces, “We must see him. We must go!”
Traversing the caravan routes of Persia, Babylon, and Syria for 1,200 miles, they ford broad rivers, pass ancient cities, cross barren deserts. Three months they trek westward, day after day, “following yonder star.”
In Jerusalem they inquire, “Where is he that is born King of the Jews? For we have seen his star in the East, and are come to worship him.” Worship? So the Babe is more than a king!
Now they follow the shining star till it rests over a simple Bethlehem home. At early dawn neighbours gather to watch the richly- robed travelers dismount. Joseph meets them at the door.
“We’ve come to see the child, the King.” The wise men fall before the Babe, faces to the floor, royal counselors doing homage, worshipping the Christ child. Outside, their servants unload weighty chests from the camels and set gifts before the King.
Heavy fragrances of frankincense and myrrh mingle to fill the room as one by one the boxes are opened.
A touch of the boy-child’s tiny fingers, a final longing look, and the men rise to go. Camel bells soon fade in the brisk morning air.
We, too, travel at Christmas, visiting family and friends. Yet, like the wisemen, the most important journey we make these hectic holidays is to draw nigh Jesus himself with the gift of our hearts.
Our Favourite Christmas Poems about Jesus
Looking for Christmas poems about Jesus, rather than about Santa Claus? This first poem reminds us that Christmas is a symbol of Jesus’ never-ending love for us, and that we will find Him whenever we seek Him.
If You Look for Me at Christmas…
If you look for me at Christmas,
you won’t need a special star;
I’m no longer just in Bethlehem,
I’m right there where you are.
You may not be aware of Me
amid the celebrations.
You’ll have to look beyond the stores
and all the decorations.
But if you take a moment
from your list of things to do,
and listen to your heart, you’ll find
I’m waiting there for you.
You’re the one I want to be with,
you’re the reason that I came,
and you’ll find Me in the stillness,
as I’m whispering your name.
When it comes to Christmas poems about Jesus, this is definitely one of our favourites. The sentiment is that Jesus is the real light of Christmas, and the light of the whole world.
The Light Of Christmas
By Margaret Cagle
We bring in the Christmas season
With beautiful Christmas lights.
They shine forth across our cities
Throughout the season’s nights.
Many look forward to celebrating
This wonderful time of the year
By decorating their homes with lights
To spread some Christmas cheer.
We string lights on Christmas trees,
On wreaths hanging here and there.
Lights adorn many, many decorations.
We see pretty lights everywhere.
Jesus is the real light of Christmas.
He is the light of the world today.
He died on the cross for our sins.
He is the truth, the light, the way.
This Christmas poem about Jesus implores us to remember that Christmas is about Christ and His salvation. Let us not celebrate Christmas for the wrong reasons!
Leave Christ in Christmas
By Margaret Cagle
Christmas without Christ?
Tell me, how can it be?
So many people change it
To suit themselves, you see.
Can’t we say “Merry Christmas”
Instead of “Happy holidays”?
We take Christ out of Christmas
In so many different ways.
It is nice to exchange gifts
This special time of the year,
But what do we give to Christ,
Our Redeemer and Savior so dear?
Christ is really what makes it
A genuine Christmas season.
If we take Him out of Christmas,
We celebrate for the wrong reason.
I want Christ in my Christmas,
For inside my heart Jesus lives.
Jesus can be your Savior too,
For free salvation He gives.
Our collection of Christmas poems about Jesus would not be complete without this poem. It speaks about how the shepherds searched hastily for Jesus when He was born, and how we should hastily search for Him today.
They Came With Haste to Jesus
By Margaret Cagle
As shepherds watched their flocks
In a field in Judea one night,
They were amazed and startled
By a bright and shining light.
The angel of the Lord appeared
To announce a very special birth.
God sent His only Son, the Savior,
To be born here on this earth.
A multitude of the Heavenly host,
Praising God appeared to them then.
Saying, “Glory to God in the highest.
Peace on earth, good will toward men.”
Then when all the angels went away,
To one another the shepherds said,
“Let us go to the town of Bethlehem
And find the babe in the manger bed.”
Then the shepherds came with haste
And found Jesus, the Christ child.
He was wrapped in swaddling clothes,
God’s Son, so holy, meek, and mild.
Christ Jesus was born on the earth
So He could one day die for our sin.
Our Savior shed His precious blood.
He died to save the souls of men.
Let us come with haste to Jesus.
He can gloriously save you today.
Yes, Jesus is patiently waiting
To forgive and take your sins away.
I wonder if God cried when he sent his only little child to die on the cross? This Christmas poem about Jesus is very moving.
By Patricia Joan Polhans
I wonder if God cried when
He sent us his only son,
His most precious gift to offer
All of us with love.
Did a tear trickled down
His precious holy cheek
When he handed us his little boy
Did he then begin to weep?
I wonder if he cried when
Jesus was rejected.
Did his lips turn downward?
Was his heart broken and dejected?
For he’d given us his all,
His ultimate sacrifice,
Sending us his only child,
Were God’s tears a surprise?
Christmas is a happy time
For all of those we see
But for the Heavenly Father
Maybe this could not be!
How he must have wept
Over his little boy who’d die.
His life, vanished in the wind.
Christmas had to make him cry!
This Christmas poem tells us that Jesus is the ultimate gift.
Give the Gift of Jesus
By Deborah Ann Belka
This Christmas . . .
I’m decorating my heart,
with the wrappings of His love.
Tying a ribbon around my soul,
with His blessings from above.
I going to avoid all the malls,
and stop not at a single store.
The only present I will give,
is the One that will restore.
I’m giving the gift of forgiveness,
sending cards about His grace.
I’m letting the glory of His birth,
beam across my thankful face.
I’m opening up my home,
for everyone to come and see.
The light of His beauty,
so to celebrate His birth with me.
I’m serving a dish of Christmas joy,
and offering up God’s good cheer.
We will feast upon His holiness,
and rejoice that our Saviour’s here.
I’m baking Him up a special cake,
singing to Him a birthday song.
And a slice of His love and mercy,
I’ll give out for all to take along.
I’m giving the offering of Jesus,
at naught at cost to me.
I’m sending out the message,
there is One gift that is truly free!
This Christmas poem about Jesus hopes that we can put away our hatred or indifference long enough to see that He was born to save us from our misery.
By Donna Hendrix
It has come! He is here! He is here!
Our Savior has come to us so near!
Born in a stable and lain in the manger
King Herod lurking, Oh what danger!
Magi heard of the baby from afar
Came to worship Him led by the star
Just as had been prophesied in days of old
Gifts for Him of frankincense, myrrh, and gold
Shepherds watched their flocks by night
Angels appeared to them from the Light
Your King has been born in Bethlehem this day
Make your way to worship Him and pray
As the Magi made their way to see the King
Where were the others with their gifts to bring?
As the shepherds made their way across the land
Did the others not see what was close at hand?
King Herod filled with jealousy and greed
Could not abide another King; God’s very seed
In Jesus’ day there were those who worshiped God’s child
Other’s were indifferent and some hated Him all the while
It sounds like the country in which I live
Many think Christmas is just a time for gifts to give
Never think of the Savior who came to save us all
Never think of the tiny baby who took the fall
Some hate Him with no plausible reason
They want to take His name out of the season
Happy holidays they say as they take your money
Just as Easter is now all about the bunny
How can you hate a man who lived a sinless perfect life
The one who can take from you all your struggles and strife
How can you hate the man who died for no reason except love
The only one who can open the door to heaven above
I pray that others can see the love He has for all society
That hardened hearts can soften as I make this plea
That nonbelievers can come to worship the tiny baby
Who came to earth for none other than you and me
Jesus is the Lamb of God and His only Begotten Son. This Christmas poem reminds us that His birth was the ultimate sign of God’s love for us.
The Lamb of God
By Donna Hendrix
In the stillness of a winter night
The earth received God’s Holy Light
An infant born to a young virgin girl
One tiny baby who would change the world
Birthed in a lowly barnyard stable
The King of kings who would enable
Born amid the cattle and sheep
The Lamb of God lay fast asleep
Wise men and kings traveled from afar
Led to this baby by the beautiful star
Shepherds were alerted by angels on high
The Savior is come; time to draw nigh
Angels filled the skies in glorious songs
Singing praises to Him all night long
Peace on earth and mercy mild
Came down to us in the form of a child
What a miracle for the world to see
Yet, many don’t believe He is our Savior to be
Many think the infant born in the stable
Is someone’s version of a long ago fable
Even those who walked with Him on earth
Doubted this man of the virgin birth
His wondrous miracles, compassion, and endless love
Were not proof enough for them that He came from above
This precious Christmas story is your saving grace
God’s gift of love to take sin’s place
He sent to this world His only begotten Son
This tiny Lamb of God; the Father’s will be done
This Christmas poem about Jesus reminds us that that God gave us His Son, even though He was destined for a life filled with sorrow and suffering, and ending with death.
Glory Above All
By Sheila Bertrand
God became man, incarnate Son
Gave up the rights of deity
Stepping down from heaven’s throne
Putting off Your majesty
Knowing sorrow every day
As You walked this dreary earth
Seeing as we turned away
The very One who gave us birth
Man of sorrows, man of grief
Every day weighed down with pain
And though You knew what was to be
You determined to remain
Your love required You to bear
A suffering beyond compare
As You bore our sins on the tree
But however great Your purpose was
In sending Jesus to atone
Your glory rises above all
The glory that is Yours alone
All thoughts of us, though great and sweet
Were secondary in intent
Your first concern, Lord, was not me
Your glory is preeminent
You came to seek and save the lost
As a means to this great end
Your Father’s glory uppermost
Your Father’s Kingdom to extend
So in the cross Your glory shines
Which every eye at last will see
A glory, gracious and sublime,
That’s Yours for all eternity.
This poem discusses the trappings of a secular Christmas compared to the Godly perspective in Jesus Christ.
A True Christmas
By Paul Zimmerman Jr.
A special time to remember when
Why we’ve gathered together again
The meaning far beyond the lights
And toys and gifts and cancelled flights
Not just a day there is no work
Or mushy cards that have their quirks
The time of year the whole world sees
The Son of God not Christmas trees
Oh the hours we did spend
And how much cash now in the end?
It seems we try so hard to please
Everyone but Christ it seems!
Madly dashing here and there
As if this earthly world should care
Longing for the things we own
Instead of seeking Heaven’s Throne
Can we for once now just be still
And look at what is truly real?
Let us take time to reflect
The gift of Jesus, don’t forget!
This is another favourite Christmas poem about Jesus. It entreats us to always remember that God’s love and Jesus’ sacrifice is the true meaning of Christmas.
Don’t Forget Jesus
By M.S. Lowndes
Christmas is a special time
To reflect on Jesus Christ,
The wonder of His lowly birth
Brings meaning to our lives
There really is no other reason
We celebrate this day,
The birth of God’s precious son
And the life, He willingly gave
But so much seems to distract us
In the busyness of our lives,
We loose our focus in all the happenings,
Not knowing, we leave out Christ
We loose sight of the true meaning
As we endlessly rush about,
Trying to find that perfect gift
Seems to cloud our Saviour out
We need to stop and reflect awhile,
Remembering our precious Lord,
His birth, His life, His sacrifice
And all that He stands for
For thought the world may celebrate
It seems, though, for other reasons,
Let’s keep in mind that Jesus Christ
Is the true meaning of the season
From All of Us at Love Lives On, “Merry Christmas”
We hope you have a wonderful, blessed Christmas.
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If you have any comments—or suggestions for more Christmas poems and readings to include in this post—let us know in the comments section below. We, along with our readers, would love to hear from you.