Advent liturgy.

Soon it is Christmas,
let all warring cease.
Let us join hands over the discount table.

Lord, we ask that you will bless these gifts
of pav and wine,
turkey, ham and pudding,
and that we who receive them may be truly blessed.

You have slashed the prices for us Lord.
Verily, we thank you.
You have cut the rates for us Lord.
Verily, we thank you.

As we celebrate this precious and solemn ceremony,
and imbibe the blessings of your presence with us,
we ask for your perfect peace,
and a transcendent glimpse of your powerful holiness.

Amen. 

three gifts

Born a king on Bethlehem's plain,
war torn, then as now,
the birth of a prince of peace more remarkable than
pigs flying over a kosher barbeque.

Incense given,
heralding the presence of deity,
as does the scent of blood, sweat and tears,
miraculous proclamation of fleshly God.

Myrrh scents the house,
perfume of a grave and a birthplace,
new life, newly lived, snatched again.
First breath repeated as first fruits.

babel's verbal bricolage

Have yourself a melancholy Christmas,
let your heart be stone.
From now on your troubles will be
on your mind!
Yes have yourself a melancholy Christmas now.


Hark! The drunken uncle sings,
blast Nauru and kill the chinks.
Heat on earth, and Cooper's mild,
Aunt Dot won't be reconciled.

Joyful all ye 'lations rise,
join the triumph, eat the pies.
With th' angelic host proclaim,
Dudley's dead, it is a shame.

Hark! The drunken uncle sings,
glory to roast turkey wings.


O little town of Bethlehem,
how still we see thee lie.
Above thy automated sleep,
fake snow falls fill the sky.

Mechanical street choirs
all make a tinny sound,
the English look is rather grand,
but odd considering Palestine...


Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree,
thou totem to depression.
Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree,
hear now my sad confession.
I always want to gather round,
with family to hear the sound
of something more than Christmas trees,
cheap presents and fake niceties.


Dear Jesus, please please please help me to hear you above the din!

Help me when I'm sad about other things that you gave us all the most incredible gift.

And help me when I'm happy about that awesome vegetable curler I hope I'm getting, or my new icecream maker, or what I believe will be a very good book, help me then not to forget you either. Help me remember that vegetable curlers will pass away, but your words will never pass away. Help me to remember that as the sun rises and the sun set, your unfailing love surrounds me.

Help me to remember after I stop feeling sad about my first Spinster-Alone-With-Parents Christmas, you've got some really exciting, challenging blessings in store for me.

Help me to remember after I stop feeling tired from smiling as constantly as possible, being polite and patient all day, and not killing anybody that you will have a reward for me later.

Thankyou is such a wooden word to me at the moment, so I want to thankyou, but I don't want to say that...

I want to say that you give me a reason to get out of bed every day.

Whatever mood I'm in, whatever thoughts cross my mind, you walk along with me, talk it through, and pour your heavenly wisdom into my very empty bowl...

In those moments after I've stopped crying, or have just seen someone treated with injustice, or am suddenly struck by the universe sucking futility of plastic plants in the Macca's drive through, you are there.

In those moments when I'm laughing loudly at something very stupid, or am smiling smugly over a cake, or am suddenly struck by the astounding beauty of the clouds next to the highway, you are there.

Thankyou doesn't cover it...

Gracias?

Amen :-)

o come

O come all ye baleful,
joyless and defeated.
O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem.
Come and ignore Him,
born the King of angels.

O come let us deplore Him.
O come let's overlook Him.
O come let us deform Him,
Christ, the Lord.

God of God, light of light.
Lo! He abhors all Platonic dualism.
Very God, begotten, not created.

O come let us deplore Him.
O come let's overlook Him.
O come let us deform Him,
Christ, the Lord.

Sing, in-store angels,
sing of your vacations.
Sing, all ye members of the discount pool.
Glory to God, bringer of the pudding.

O come let us deplore Him.
O come let's overlook Him.
O come let us deform Him,
Christ, the Lord.

Yea, Lord we greet thee,
born this happy morning.
Jesus, arrived just in time for tea.
Word of the Father, followed by the Queen.

O come let us deplore Him. 

O come let's overlook Him. 

O come let us deform Him, 

Christ, the Lord.