Psalm 860 A Hymn of Homelessness

Each year we sing with bated Christmas voice
As if events in Bethlehem were nice
When every home and pub had shut its door
And Mary in a shed her baby bore

Forgive us God that things are still the same
That Christ is homeless under other names
Still holy famlies to our cities come
Where life is sick and sore in crowded slum

God make it clear that joy will be denied
Unless the door into our life stands wide
That even with our tables richly spread
Our house of life is short of living bread

Give to your people restlessness of soul
Till right is done and life is healed and whole
Keep us unpatient till the time has come
When all your children are on earth at home