O boatswain, let this be a lesson
For your children lived and learned
Of hope stirred out of cynicism,
Grace unsought and love unearned,
That even as the inquisition
Mocks the shepherd just returned
Or marks the missionary vision
With a basic truth discerned
Before the mission ever started,
Far beyond the pasture’s hold,
So too the message angels uttered
In a field to shepherds told,
And so the glory first imparted
In a trough, uncounted, cold
And barely noticed, always mattered
More than Christmas green and gold.
No doubt we need to feel the fire,
Watch the stars and keep the day
As holy as the world desires,
Festive, bold and on display,
And certainly we should aspire
To give gifts as the wise men gave
And to receive from one another
More than the receipts we save,
But let there be a better lesson
After all the songs have died
To outlast every brief vacation,
Make each day we set aside
Endure, let every contradiction
Stir what’s beating deep inside
And let the challenge of the mission
Move us, ne'er to be denied.
from Stillwater Symposia
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