A NIGHTMARE

“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” Luke 2:14

 

Have you ever had a nightmare that was so real and so horrible, but you couldn’t seem to wake up and escape? I’ve had this recurring dream for weeks now—it started around Thanksgiving. It was so dreadful, I must give you a trigger warning. This may even disturb you and your sleeping.
In my dream, people were preparing for Thanksgiving—for traveling to be with family or planning dinner menus, the various things we do to celebrate. But instead of anticipating seeing loved ones, the conversations around me swirled with the busy-ness of the season, the crowds at the stores, the stress of traveling—not the joy of thanksgiving. “How were the lines?” and “Who do you think will be there?” and “I can’t decide what to make,” were some of the questions and comments I was hearing. Instead of thankfulness, it seemed that dread and anxiety were the order of the day.  In my dream, we scraped through Thanksgiving with lots of talk about the work involved, the time it took to prepare, and the exhaustion. People were so glad to “get over with it” so they could relax. But the worst was still ahead: Christmas.
When I worked for several months in Uganda, it was common for the government to announce a holiday on the radio the night before said holiday. That meant that all the banks would be closed; offices would be shut down; many stores would not be serving; and people were generally inconvenienced. But we’re not subject to that sort of ambiguity. All our lives we know that Christmas with its activities will arrive on December 25. But in my dream, I kept hearing, “I have so many things to do.” “I’m not ready.” “There are lots of parties.” “I’m so tired.” “I’m so stressed.” “I can hardly wait until the holidays are over.”
The nightmare was so upsetting, I wanted to scream. Instead, I woke up relieved that it was just a dream. A very bad dream. We have had a whole year to plan for the celebration of Christ’s coming, plenty of time. We have that peace that was promised by the angels; no need to stress. We have the joy of realizing that Baby Boy brings salvation and hope; no need to worry. We have the gifts given us by the Spirit; including patience, gentleness, goodness, meekness, self control, faithfulness. Actually, we have everything we need to enjoy the seasons of Thanksgiving, Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany.
Joy to the world. THE LORD IS COME. Let’s celebrate.

Father, forgive us when we get caught up in materialism and the world. We are part of your Kingdom. Help us to live as citizens of the Kingdom, always glorifying and honoring you with great joy. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

MANGER

And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. Luke 2:12

 

On this Christmas Day it is with joy and awe that we approach the Babe, God Incarnate, Ruler of the Universe, tiny, vulnerable, and accessible to any and all who seek him. Jesus Christ from birth, appointed to bring salvation, not only to his own people, but to all those who were far off.

 

From the beginning there were signs, hints and clues, as to whom this wondrous Baby would be and what his ministry would entail. An angel appeared to his mother and father to foretell his birth; Wise Men were guided by a star to confirm his royalty; shepherds were surrounded by God’s glory and the angels’ announcement of Messiah; and Simeon and Anna affirmed the birth of the Promised One.

 

But have you noticed an obscure little clue that was present at the beginning when the angels appeared to the shepherds? The angel said to them, “You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” In French, the word manger (mahn-zhay) means “to eat.” Among his many “I Am” descriptors (self-description statements), Jesus would call himself the Bread of Life (John 6:35).  In whatever language the words would be translated, this Messiah would say, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life…”(John 6:54)

 

Was it coincidental that Jesus would be found lying in a place where one would expect to find nourishment? The Son of God came to this world to bring Life—physical, emotional, spiritual—and only as we partake of him do we accrue to ourselves the fulfillment of this promise. As if to underscore this wonder, Jesus twice took handfuls of bread to feed the multitudes and to demonstrate his identity as Bread of Life. And as he handed out bits of broken bread to his disciples on that fateful night, he told them, “…eat, this is my body” (Matt. 26:26).

 

And in eating Jesus promises us, “… whoever comes to me shall not hunger” (John 6:35). In taking what Jesus offers, ingesting and chewing on it, and then swallowing and consuming it we participate in eternal life. Our hunger is satisfied; we are transformed; and nothing else will ever fulfill us.
On this Christmas Day, let us reverently approach the Baby lying in a manger.

 

O holy Child of Bethlehem
Descend to us, we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born to us today
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell
O come to us, abide with us
Our Lord Emmanuel.

CHRISTMAS IS COMING

Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom.  And five of them were wise, and five were foolish.  Matthew 25:1, 2

 

Yes, Christmas IS coming.  A number of years ago I discovered that Christmas ALWAYS comes on December 25.  Not the 20^th or the 27^th and always in December.  In fact, as early as 273 A.D. the 25^th was noted for the celebration of Christ’s birthday in conjunction with the “birth of the unconquered sun” (Christian History, August 2008).

I wonder why it took me so long to record this recurring celebration of Christ’s birth and all the joyous events surrounding it?  Once I was mindful of this fact, I began preparing in the fall by making lists and purchasing gifts for loved ones.  I began sketching out our family Christmas pageant and the ensuing dinner menu.  I was able to choose a convenient date for my annual parties.  Essentially, with all the preparations made beforehand, I could worship and enjoy the deeper significance of Christ’s coming.

You may be mildly surprised to learn that there are still thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands of our fellow countrymen and women who will be startled this December to learn that Christmas is only days away.  They will stress and fret at all the things that need to be done and the little time left in which to accomplish those tasks.  Christmas comes at such a busy time of the year.

The onslaught of Hurricane Harvey is reminding me of our lack of preparation for life’s events.  I’ve heard from family and friends that lines at grocery stores have been long and uncomfortable, and some items have been missing from the shelves.  It seems that many people haven’t thought about keeping a few non-perishable items in their pantries.  But the saddest thing is the expression of anxiety and fear among those who should otherwise recognize God’s peace and presence even in the middle of crisis.

Matthew records the parable about the virgins who were all confronted with the same event.  The Bridegroom was coming, and they needed oil.  Half were ready; half weren’t.  Half had been focused on consistent growth in Christ, of following him daily; half weren’t.  Half were allowing his Spirit to fill and transform them; half weren’t.  Half were being changed into his image; half weren’t.  When the crisis occurred (the Bridegroom’s arrival), half were prepared, half weren’t.

When the various storms come to our lives—and so many arrive unannounced—what have we been laying up in our spiritual stores?  Remember another of Jesus’ parables, the one about the two houses—one built on sand and the other on the rock (Matt. 7:24-27)?  Jesus said the story reflected someone who heard and did his word and someone who didn’t.  Crises are not one-time events, but when they arrive, we sometimes behave like students cramming for the final exam.  Trust isn’t an instant commodity that can be purchased at the corner store.  It’s an ongoing, daily exercise, a lifestyle relationship with Jesus.

Do you remember what happened with the two men in the two houses?  The one that was built on the rock STOOD.  And those same life storms come at us regularly.  We stand or fall based on what we’ve been doing beforehand.  Let’s get ready.  The storm is coming.

AND so is Christmas—December 25.  Mark your calendars.

 

Father, thank you for your mercy in all our trials.  Continue your faithful ministry in us by your Spirit so that we stand ready to glorify you in every event.  And be with all those touched by Harvey—comfort and meet every need.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

A QUIET TIME

Be still and know that I am God.  Psalm 46:10

 

There is a tiny space between Christmas and New Year’s—it’s just about one week long—and it seems to be claimed by no other special activity or pressing responsibility.  Advent and preparation for the Lord’s coming takes us right up to Christmas, while the hustle and bustle that’s part of our traditional celebrations have consumed those weeks after Thanksgiving.  And  here we are at that quiet time after Christmas just before we launch headlong, full speed into the New Year.

What a good time to slow down, to process, to be still and know…  Could we set aside our personal agendas just for this week to listen?  Are we able to stop long enough to worship?  Can we quiet our passions to spend several days resting in him?

The story is told of an early explorer who was trekking across the jungles of interior Africa.  He had been advised that his porters could travel only a certain distance each day, but he was determined to make better time.   Day by day he pushed his men until one day he arose to find that no one would move from his tent.  No bit of cajoling or threatening would budge his team.  Finally, sensing the man’s frustration, one of the porters admitted that they had traveled so quickly, they had left their souls behind and were waiting for them to catch up.

We’ve been given the gift of this one week to be still, to let our souls catch up.  This is a week to acknowledge God’s sovereignty, to bask in his love, and to nourish that relationship with him.  Can we slow down enough—just for a week—to know that he’s God (and we’re not)?

 

Father, “the world is too much with us.”  The holidays are crammed with activities and distractions—so much for holy days.  Thank you for this brief, quiet time to reorder ourselves and our priorities.  To be.  Our eyes are on you.  AMEN.

PEACE ON EARTH

 

And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  Isaiah 9:6

 

 

It’s that time of the year.  Our family has had a Christmas play for almost fifty years, and this year will be no exception.  With great imagination that only comes from the minds of little ones, we typically retell the story of Jesus’ birth or some Christmas miracle story connected with his birth.  This year we are indulging my youngest grandson’s obsession with history.

 

 

In December 1944 during the brutal Battle of the Bulge three young American soldiers strayed from their unit and were lost several days in the Ardennes Forest.  Snow was thick on the ground, and there were no markings to guide them on that Christmas Eve.  One of the boys was wounded, and they desperately needed shelter.  As they trudged through the woods, they came upon a small, isolated cabin.  Two of the soldiers marched up to the door and knocked.

Elisabeth Vincken and her son Fritz had been forced away from their bombed-out home in the city and hidden in the little cabin by Elisabeth’s husband who would visit from time to time.  Elisabeth and Fritz were expecting him to return in time for Christmas Eve and eagerly went to the door.  To their surprise and awe, three American soldiers greeted them.  Elisabeth knew the penalty for harboring the enemy was execution, but the boys had kindly knocked on the door and looked so young.  She ushered them into the cabin, and she and Fritz helped the wounded soldier into bed, covering him with blankets.  Elisabeth went back to her preparation for the Christmas Eve meal and was again interrupted with a knock at the door.  Fritz ran to open the door thinking it could be other Americans.

As the door opened, Elisabeth saw, to her horror, that it was German soldiers, four of them, and they were armed.  They were cold and wanted to come in.  With great boldness, Elisabeth said they were welcome as long as they accepted her other guests.  Furthermore, they had to put their weapons in the shed first.  At first the Germans were hesitant, but the warmth and light drew them.  They deposited their weapons while Elisabeth also took the weapons of the Americans.

Fear and tension were strong in the little cabin for a while, but the smell of the meal baking in the oven, the relative comfort, and Elisabeth and Fritz’s hospitality ushered in a sense of peace.  One of the German soldiers, a medical student, inquired about the wounded GI and bandaged his injuries.  By the time everyone sat down to eat, a miracle had occurred.  Elisabeth said grace asking God to bring his peace and to end all wars.  When she finished, everyone was in tears.

After eating, the soldiers lay down to sleep together and arose early in the morning to return to their own units.  The Germans fashioned a stretcher for the wounded American, and one pointed on the Americans’ map to indicate the direction back to their troops.  He even provided them with a compass.  The Americans and the Germans shook hands—these men who had been shooting at each other only days before—and they left on different routes after having experienced the wonder of a holy, silent, peaceful night.

 

Prince of Peace, in you we find peace no matter what our circumstance.  Move in all our hearts around the world that we may truly experience that peace of which we all dream.  AMEN.

 

 

(This story was retold in 1995 on the television program “Unsolved Mysteries.”  Grown- up Fritz was able to contact two of the Americans he had met that Christmas Eve who told him that his mother had saved their lives.)

COMFORT ZONES

Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.  Isaiah 40:1  (KJV)

 

I’ve just returned from a mission trip to Uganda and am chuckling over the many ways “newbies” confess to being pushed beyond their comfort zones:  eating grasshoppers as a seasonal delicacy; participating in vibrant church services exceeding four hours; navigating treacherous Kampala (the capital) traffic with thousands of vehicles and few road rules; sweating through days of work with no air conditioning; and extravagant demonstrations of Christian faithfulness.  These “comfort zones” are usually defined with possessives: my, mine or our.

Yes, more and more we identify comfort as a state of personal entitlement and are disenchanted with those who make us uncomfortable.  Think of college campuses where students must have safe zones and where topics that trigger angst among fragile students are to be avoided at all costs.  Even in public discourse, we tend to shy away from anything that challenges our status quo or that would cause us to entertain new or unpleasant viewpoints.  Political correctness is the order of the day with the exception that PC goes only one way; dissenters are labeled with phobias or worse.  So much for comfort…

A cursory glance at a Bible concordance listing God’s view of comfort mostly flips our selfish comfort on its head.  God speaks of comfort residing in him (Isa. 61:2), in his forgiveness (Isa. 40:2), in his touch (Luke 8:48), in the ministry of the Holy Spirit (Acts 9:31), in the Word (Romans 15:4), and so on. It’s all about him.   Comfort resides in being surrendered to the lordship of Jesus Christ, his will, and his glory.  It’s not about us.

What an excellent opportunity we have during the holidays to enjoy the comfort of our Father as he guides us through the minefields of difficult relations, command performances, mandatory attendance, last-minute shopping, and all the other aspects of Western Christmas traditions.  Will we retreat to the need for safe spaces rather than moving into God’s grace as we encounter people and events that are not of our choosing?  Will we avoid those annoyances that typically ruffle our feathers or will we see how God’s comfort can stretch us to move in his love and Spirit and out of our egocentricity?

May God’s Spirit constantly provoke us each time we begin to say, “I’m not comfortable with…” or “I’m only comfortable when…”   Seems like a great gift this Christmas time would be to get us all out of our comfort zones and into God’s comfort.

 

Father, thank you for your infinite patience with us.  Grace us to trust you in all circumstances.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

HALLELUJAH

Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting: “Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns…” Revelation 19:6

I love all the symbols of Christmas – the Baby around whom our season revolves; the lights pointing to the Light of the world; the gifts reminding us of the Wise Men who followed the star and found the Savior; the visitors who came from every strata, age group, and nation; and the music. I especially love the music. What other season evokes such glorious expressions of wonder, love, and majesty?

Years ago, our choir studied the setting of Messiah and the astonishing manner in which Handel was Spirit-anointed to compose the masterpiece in just twenty-four days. His powerful oratorio sweeps broadly from prophecy in the Old Testament through the birth of Christ and into worship of him as King in eternity. The Hallelujah Chorus had such an impact on our family that we couldn’t leave it at church.

With the approach of Christmas, we ordered copies of Hallelujah for each family member. My brother sang bass; my husband sang tenor; Momo sang alto; sister-in-law Linda and I sang soprano; while my dad and the children wandered around all the parts. This continued for years, and we still sing smidgens of Hallelujah when we gather.

In my imagination I see this small family choir as a preview of what’s to come when people of all skills levels, all ages, all experiences gather in eternity to praise with joy and wonder that King of Kings and Lord of Lords. HALLELUJAH.

Father, thank you for all the ways you’ve given us to remember and experience the birth of your precious Son. Help us to open our hearts to receive him and may our song continue to bring him praise throughout the year and ages to come. AMEN.

THE ANNUAL PAGEANT

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. John 1:14 (NIV)

Early Christmas carols were sung in Latin, and since most of the people didn’t understand Latin, the practice fell out of favor after a few hundred years. (Imagine singing words you don’t understand at the church service.) But then St. Francis came along and introduced the Nativity Play in the Thirteenth Century along with songs that were sung in the language of the people. This was the beginning of the annual Christmas pageant.

Our family initiated a Nativity pageant when my children were small. Out came blankets for cloaks, scarves for headpieces, bathrobes for Joseph and the Wise Men, and my dad fashioned a manger from his shop scraps.  We made sets from packing boxes.  Momo played the piano as the cast sang and performed the Christmas story for the little ones.

The children have grown older and now have children of their own. We’ve done adaptations of Amahl and the Night Visitors, improvised versions of the Nativity story, revised traditional tales, and this year we will have an original story based on the characters’ preferences. (When five-year-old Caroline said she wanted to be a lamb in October, we knew this was important.) William has decided he will be a dog. The two teen-aged cousins, Mckenzie and Kassidee, have graciously accepted roles as the Two Wise Men. (The Third Wise Man had an undisclosed ailment which kept him from joining them.) Sam (now a young adult) is always the moving/flexible player. This year he will be a shepherd.

Putting together a skit with designated/determined characters is a little like cooking with the ingredients you have on hand. My little ones are set on being a lamb and a dog; the other three are fitting in. We have begun rehearsals with a story line that varies from practice to practice. Improvisation has been taken to a new level.

The whole point of this family tradition, like Francis’ ministry, is to make the story real, to allow the children to be part of the story and to connect with the Baby and his holy family. They are not just observers; they are the story. They experience a sense of Mary’s awe when Gabriel visits; of the holy couple’s rejection in Bethlehem; of the wonder of the shepherds (and lambs and dogs); and of the quest of the Wise Men. And as they participate, the Word becomes Flesh and lives with and in them.

Father, thank you for all the creative ways you’ve given us to share your story in word, in deed, and through our lives. Especially this season, help us to show Jesus to those we love best. AMEN.

THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD

In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:4, 5 (NIV)

Come with me to one of my favorite spots at Christmas. We proceed through streets with houses that have been handed down from generation to generation and where the tree branches form a beautiful canopy as we pass. We circle the roundabout with its three lighted Christmas trees proclaiming the season, and then we make a right onto a commercial avenue.

In a few more blocks we make a left, and there we are. Just this side of the railroad tracks is a collection of tiny homes that are resplendent with lights—colored, white, flashing, steady—speaking of the Light that came into the world more than two thousand years ago. It only happens once a year in this sweet neighborhood, but it is worth the drive to experience the joy, the hope, and the love found in the tiny community.

I first saw it the night I was driving home from the hospital where my husband lay dying. Intellectually, I knew the promises and the gift of eternal life that would soon be his, but my emotions were in a different place. And then I turned onto Dora Street. There in the middle of an economically marginalized neighborhood, the Life that was the Light of all mankind shone brightly for me. The darkness of the deep December midnight could not obscure it in any way, and I was assured that the Light would guide my husband home and would be with me forever afterward.

Sweet Jesus, you told us that you are the light of the world. You never leave us, and when we walk with you, there is no darkness. Thank you for shining into our lives. AMEN.

O LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times. Micah 5:2 (NIV)

Several years ago, I participated in a pilgrimage to Israel where I saw the major sites of Christendom and rubbed shoulders with Jews, Muslims, Druze, and Kurds. In this complex smidgeon of real estate about the size of Rhode Island, one can drive from one side of the country to the other in less time than it takes to get from San Antonio to Austin. And yet, so much of our faith was birthed in this tiny land.

At Bethlehem I waited inside the crumbling Byzantine Church of the Nativity with throngs of pilgrims to see the spot where Jesus was welcomed into the world by his mother Mary and Joseph and the shepherds. There was a large group of Japanese faithful who waited with us for a glimpse of the holy site. Down the narrow stairway amid flickering candlelight, I spoke with Romanian Christians who had come thousands of miles to sing hymns and worship the One who had been born to take away the sins of the world. There were Orthodox believers who gathered in another corner to venerate a beautiful icon representing Mary and the Christ Child.

We were a potpourri of wayfarers at the same sacred spot at a unique moment in time.  We looked and dressed differently from one another and were a polyglot of persons, but we were united in our longing to ponder and be present at the place of his incarnation. And outside, a few of us lingered to visit with the radiant little Muslim schoolgirls who had come to greet visitors and to practice their English. “What is your name?” they asked and giggled at our responses.

What will it be like on the day when “a great multitude that no one [can] count, from every nation, tribe, people and language” gather together for worship?

O holy Child of Bethlehem
Descend to us, we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born to us today
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell
O come to us, abide with us
Our Lord Emmanuel.

Father, at Advent our hearts wait in anticipation for the day you will bring your children together and when we all will be one in you. Let your love flow out of us to embrace those who do not yet know you, and may we gently invite them to join us in your Kingdom. In Jesus’ name. Emmanuel. AMEN.