who will tell Him?

Once upon a time there was a French poet by the name of Placide Cappeau.  He penned a poem that would later be altered into a wonder Christmas song we all know and love.  The name of the poem is Cantique de Noël.  When I step away from the metered and rhymed version of the song we know today, I’m haunted and amazed by the power of the lyrics:

Midnight, Christians, it is the solemn hour,

When God-man descended to us

To erase the stain of original sin

And to end the wrath of His Father.

The entire world thrills with hope

On this night that gives it a Savior.

People kneel down, wait for your deliverance.

Christmas, Christmas, here is the Redeemer,

Christmas, Christmas, here is the Redeemer!

May the ardent light of our Faith

Guide us all to the cradle of the infant,

As in ancient times a brilliant star

Guided the Oriental kings there.

The King of Kings was born in a humble manger;

O mighty ones of today, proud of your greatness,

It is to your pride that God preaches.

Bow your heads before the Redeemer!

Bow your heads before the Redeemer!

The Redeemer has overcome every obstacle:

The Earth is free, and Heaven is open.

He sees a brother where there was only a slave,

Love unites those that iron had chained.

Who will tell Him of our gratitude,

For all of us He is born, He suffers and dies.

People stand up! Sing of your deliverance,

Christmas, Christmas, sing of the Redeemer,

Christmas, Christmas, sing of the Redeemer!

 

 

God-man descended down to the dirty broken Earth to fix the mess we got ourselves into.  God-man, who has known no sin or blemish, who created the universe and everything in it choses to bear the weight of our sin.  People stand up.  Sing.  Sing.

Of all the creation in the universe, God chose to be with us.  Sing.