Christmas 2025

NEW Word Pictures Guy poem:

We seem to hate our bodies,

Loath embodiment.

If we aren’t longing to have our souls pull off into heaven,

Then we are talking about uploading our essences

To a computer singularity.

Short of that, we spend half our time

Disembodied, our minds focused

On digital substitutes for reality.

Christmas is embodiment.

The messiness and pain of birth.

A human man, walking the Earth

In sandalled feet

Mostly on dirt roads

(only occasionally on water).

He wasn’t forever talking about disembodied souls.

He connected them to bodies.

Earthy illness healed - sometimes with mud.

Leaving these poor husks of bodies behind,

Christmas is the reverse.

Earthy stories about seeds and sheep

And lost objects and money.

Earthly relationships restored.

And finally,

All of creation restored.

Here.

Not in a virtual reality,

Not in a digital version of our brainwaves,

Not in a fantasy realm of clouds and harps.

Here.

On Earth as it is in Heaven.

He came to embody

With hands and feet

And a voice and a face

The goodness of a human life.

We are called

Not to disembodiment,

But to incarnation.