The hands that first held Mary's child
Were hard from working wood
From boards they sawed and planed and filed
And splinters they withstood
This day they gripped no tool of steel
They drove no iron nail
But cradled from the head to heel
Our Lord, newborn and frail
When Joseph marveled at the size
Of that small breathing frame
And gazed upon those bright new eyes
And spoke the infant's name
The angel's voice he once had dreamed
Poured out from heaven's height
And like the host of starts that gleamed
Blessed earth with welcome light
This Child will be Emmanuel
Not God upon a throne
But God-with-us, Emmanuel
As close as blood and bone
The tools which Joseph laid aside
A mob would later lift
And use with anger, fear and pride
To crucify God's gift
Let us, O Lord, not only hold
The Child who's born today
But charged with faith, may we behold
To follow in His way
The tiny form in Joseph's palms
Confirmed what he had heard
And from his heart rose hymns and psalms
For heaven's human Word
This Child shall be Emmanuel
Not God upon the Throne
But God-with-us, Emmanuel
As close as blood and bone
As close as blood and bone