I Still Say Merry Christmas

For those who do follow this blog - thank you and apologies.  This blogger has had some major challenges of a dental nature over the past few months and, frankly, has not felt too well.  I am feeling much better.  Remember:  Time, the great healer and revealer.

Now - a few comments, questions, and an old war story for the season.

Our family discussion this week surrounded the reason our house is the least decorated on the block. I would like to say it is because I have been convalescing this past month; however,  a dear lady who passed away this past year (whose house is still empty) has a more festive exterior facade than ours.  One of the traditions of the season in our home is putting up the Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving.  I know some folks who wait until Christmas Eve.  Some folks will scurry home after church this coming Sunday, prop up that evergreen, untangle the snarled and unblinking string of lights, haul out the various and sundry ornaments that range from crystal bells to delicate bulbs to the popsicle stick and paste creation from a child’s kindergarten class.

It's been the same for centuries, ever since we Christians adopted the symbol adopted the symbols from Germanic paganism - the evergreen being seen as a symbol of eternal life because it’s always green even in the dead of winter. Wherever you go these days, you can expect to see that basic triangular shape, be it artificial or real — beautiful green boughs narrowing upward to the point where you put the star.  But wait a second. Before you anchor that tree in its stand and find a place on it for the those candy canes you’ve kept since the Carter administration, consider checking out a recent trend in Christmas tree chic — an idea that could flip the whole idea of the Christmas tree on its ear — literally. This past decade has seen the advent of the  upside-down, ceiling-mounted Christmas tree.

That’s right, for the past few years a small movement is growing where people are actually attaching their Christmas trees upside down with the base on the ceiling — a holiday stalactite, if you will. It’s an upside-down, backward approach to the conventional positioning of a Christmas tree. Like just about anything these days, though, the concept isn’t exactly new. Upside-down Christmas trees date all the way back to 12th-century Europe, though they’ve been out of vogue for nearly a millennium.

The traditionalist argument: Why would you be so gauche as to nail a tree to the ceiling? After all, that’s not Christmas! Some might even argue that the shape of the tree points to heaven, which would make it a sin to turn it upside down.

This next week we will celebrate Christmas with our new church - our first Christmas Eve service here. I remember a few churches ago (ministerially speaking) a packed Christmas Eve sanctuary on our first Christmas Eve service with them, with many new visitors and a festive atmosphere. My wife and I went to the door to greet people after the service, believing that all was right with the world, when one of the long-time church members came to the door but refused to shake my hand. Scowling, “Thanks for ruining my Christmas — we didn’t sing “The First Noel” as the second carol. We’ve always sung that carol second in the order of worship on Christmas Eve. Without that, it’s just not Christmas.”

It could have been its own animated special: “The Pastor Who Stole Christmas.”   Yes, that's me - the Pastoral Grinch - trying my best to ruin Christmas for as many as I can. There’s nothing like tweaking sacred tradition to tick people off.  I have noticed over the years of doing the Christmas Eve marathon that Christmas is the ultimate holiday sacred cow. Texans say "Don't mess with Texas."  I say "You just don’t mess with Christmas."  For many people the biggest fear of this season is that Christmas won’t happen according to plan, that something will go awry and ruin Christmas thoroughly.  The truth is that, especially for us baby boomers, we’ve been trained to think this way. Remember all your childhood animated Christmas specials? The Grinch, Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Charlie Brown — what’s the basis for those stories? Someone is out to ruin Christmas and to keep it from coming. (Remember - that's me!) All must be perfectly restored to order for the season to be valid.

People just seem to get wrapped around the axle about the smallest things this time of year. Indeed we all have our expectations, our hopes, our “perfect” scenarios, whether it be for a holiday or for any other aspect of our lives. For some reason, we don’t like any deviation — no upside-down-ness to our lives. Now - my life?  Lot's of upside-down-ness.  That is probably why I make people nervous.

The Scriptures that I will read on Christmas Eve, however, tells me that turning things upside down is exactly the agenda of the coming King.

The prophet Micah wrote about a coming reversal in fortune for the people of Israel. The nation faced God’s judgment because of their apostasy — a judgment carried out by enemies who would build a wall of siege against them and “strike the ruler of Israel upon the cheek” in an open display of disdain (Micah 5:1). The old patterns of idolatry and corruption that characterized the reign of many of their kings had made the nation almost Grinch like in its devotion to self-interest, material gain and oppression of the weak (Micah 2:1-2).

In the midst of this prophecy of judgment and tough times ahead, God still offered hope. A new king would arise who would break this old pattern and, in effect, turn things upside down. His origins from the lowly town of Bethlehem, “one of the little clans of Judah,” are a signal that God is interested in overturning the human expectations of power and prestige in favor of uplifting the weak (5:2).

Jesus came amidst a swirl of expectations about a messiah who would save people and do it according to a preconceived and religiously approved plan. He was expected to wield a sword instead of a shepherd’s crook and make peace by eliminating the enemies, particularly the minions of Rome who occupied the first century land. The Messiah was to make a list, check it twice, determine who was naughty and nice and make sure that the ultimate holiday — the restoration of Israel — would come according to the script, complete with happy ending and roll the credits.

 Instead, Jesus does nothing less than turn their expectations upside down and hang them from the spiritual ceiling as a way of making room for everyone. He preached love over and against vengeance for enemies. He spent time with the outcasts and proclaimed that they would be the new “in” crowd. He was a great teacher but performed as a lowly servant, even washing feet. For Jesus the categories of rich and poor, in and out, great and humble, even life and death were all reversed. It’s no wonder that traditionalists would argue that he was ruining everything and want him out of the picture. 

We followers of Jesus have a lot of work ahead.  In the mean time: MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I still say Merry Christmas in public and like the First Noel but as the first song instead of the second.  That's GOT to be Silent Night for me.  If not, "its just not Christmas."

Just a reminder for the season:  Don't text and drive:)

WWJD

The King James Version of the Bible in its 1631 edition, read: "Thou shalt commit adultery." Today, this might seem a given, but in 1631, this was news. Adultery, instead of being forbidden, was suddenly compulsory.  It was a typo, of course. The printers were heavily fined, a correction was made and the 1631 edition became known as the Wicked Bible. A few years later, printers caused problems again. They left out the second negative in 1 Corinthians 6:9, which read, "Know ye not that the unrighteous shall inherit the kingdom of God?" The unrighteous got excited about their future, until it was made clear that "the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God." Then the printers moved on to murder. In 1795, the King James Version had Jesus say, "Let the children first be killed" (Mark 7:27). What he really asked was that the children first be "filled" - that is, fed.  Just six years later, the "murmurers" of Jude 16 became "murderers." "These are murderers, complainers, walking after their own lusts," it read. This edition quickly became known as the Murderers' Bible.

When I conjure up Psalm 23, I hear the words, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul" (vv. 1-3). Nothing else will do. For me, Psalm 23 simply has to be read in the King James Version.

As poetic and comforting as this version is, it was born in a time of conflict. When King James took the throne of England in 1603, the country was embroiled in theological controversy. The establishment Anglicans were feuding with a group of reformers called the Puritans, and King James decided to side with the Anglicans - the group that posed the least threat to his authority (hey- he was a King & that's what Kings do). But he was a shrewd politician and knew he needed to extend an olive branch to the Puritans. He agreed to commission a new translation of the Bible, one that took seriously the original Greek and Hebrew texts. The result was the Bible we now call the KJV.

Boy - have I found out over the years that people take their Bibles seriously - seriously, especially the King Jimmy!

I was recently in a Christian bookstore that featured the Gaither Homecoming Bible.  I picked it up wondering if it was like one of those musical singing cards.  As I perused the shelves I noticed that choosing a Bible these days was a complicated thing.  Not only do I need to choose the right translation but a Bible theme too.   What would Jesus do?  I have a friend who said He might just flip over a few tables and say my Father's Word is for worship and not profit. (I'm thinking this is not too far from the truth).

Which one would He choose?  The Woman Thou Art Loosed Bible?  No – not for me, but it might make a great anniversary present for my wife. The NIV Spirit of Reformation Study Bible?  The Fire Bible?  The Spirit Filled Bible? (I liked the sound of this one).  The Life Recovery Bible. (I probably need this but I am not ready to admit I need it).  The Serendipity Study Bible? (Sounds peaceful).  The Compact Global Study Edition Teen Bible? (Sounds stealthy).  The Compromisers Study Bible? (Wish I would have thought of that one).  The Open Bible? (Holy Sounding).  The Transformation Study Bible?  The Mission of God Study Bible?  The Five Languages of Love Study Bible?  

The Every Man’s Study Bible?  The God’s Little Princess Devotional Study Bible?  The Crazy Jesus Study Bible? The The American Patriots Bible? (Not sure I could send that one to the Mission Field).  The Internet Texter's Study Bible?  (Now if that isn't a sign of the times?) Help!

So what does it mean for me to take the Bible seriously, not as political and cultural force, but as the primary source of God's Word to me?  "Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his way?" asks the KJV of Psalm 119, verse 9. "By taking heed thereto according to thy word." Wherewithal ... taking heed ... thereto ... this is the King's English (or the kind of English we use to pray in church).  The only thing better would be to say it in French.  "Comment un jeune home rendra-t-il pure sa vioe?  Ce sera en y pennant grade selon ta parole."  Have you ever read or prayed after a person who speaks French? (Hint: Don't do it! You will sound like a hick. Believe me). The raw power of this verse punches through such flowery expressions (even King's English and French), reminding me to keep my way pure by living according to the Word of God.

I feebly attempt to let the Bible shape my life.  I really try to let the Bible interpret me more than I interpret it.  With the law of God within me, written on my heart, I know an intimacy with God that gives me a clear advantage in my ongoing struggle with sin. My attitude toward God's Word should always be open and forward-looking, trusting that the Lord will write the law on my heart and shape me into a more loving and faithful person.

"Whetherith-to-whereth with  your treasure iseth, thereto your hearteth shall be hitherto" I think Jesus said this -  but I'm sure it was more like "ὅπου γάρ ἐστιν ὁ θησαυρὸς ὑμῶν, ἐκεῖ ἔσται καὶ ἡ καρδία ὑμῶν"  or כי במקום אשר אוצרכם בו שם יהיה גם לבבכם׃" (Matthew 6:21).  Just sayin'.

We could just go with Aramaic-eth

If my heart relentlessly pursues worldly dreams - and maybe even attains them - what will I lose in the process? I can gain the whole world and lose my soul.  This?  A very real danger of storing up treasures on earth, "where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal" (Matthew 6:19).

Better to delight in God's decrees and embrace the promise of the psalm: "I will meditate on your precepts, fix my eyes on your ways, delight in your statutes, and not forget your word." This is the way of true serenity in this life, and everlasting joy in the next. By making God's Word my treasure, I will put my heart at peace.

It's a reminder that God's Word, whatever the version or theme, it bringeth me peace and provideth instruction on staying on the good path of right living.

Children of the Corn 'Maze'

I know - I say I put together complicated puzzles for a living.  However, I have a confession - normally I try to avoid any sort of a maze, anything that leads to confusion and despair. They might be great for rats, but not for people.  Yet, this is precisely where people seem to migrate this time of year: in a maze, a labyrinth, (a puzzle), conundrum, befuddlement.  I am not sure why but every time a pass a new "fadish" corn maze I think of the first scary movie I ever watched was Stephen King's Children of the Corn.  I don't think it won a Oscar.  I am still creeped out by the crucifix made of twisted corn with INRI written on it.  Remember the demonic cult that worshipped "he who walks behind the rows?"  Me?  I'm not going into a corn maze. I passed one maze that is billed as "The Corn of Evil."   NOT going there.

Today, mazes are hot. Labyrinths, created on ancient patterns dating back 6,000 years, are all over the country. They've been mowed and shaped in fields, painted on parking lots, laid out in back yards, and installed in church foyers and cathedral naves.  Ready for this? A-maze-ing, no? (You saw that coming right? Really bad joke!)

Floor of Chartres Labyrinth

Many of them are based on the famous pattern of the Chartres Cathedral labyrinth in France, still visible today. Those who walk the labyrinths testify that the experience evokes healing and self-knowledge, serenity and anxiety reduction. A friend recently told me that if I were to walk a maze with the right frame of mind (?), I would be a different person when I came out of it. (Now - of that I am sure).  That is - if I came out of it.  Knowing me I would get frustrated, turned around, lost, and have a nervous breakdown instead of achieving spiritual nirvana. Or some corn child would jump out from behind a stalk with a chainsaw. Nevertheless - I was told that I'd be less likely to yell at someone who cuts me off in traffic; maybe I'd be a little more patient and willing to listen to the voice inside me. Mmm.  Not so sure.

All this from walking circles in a parking lot? Or wandering through corn?  Sounds far-fetched, doesn't it? I been forced to DRIVE circles in parking lots, scavenging for spaces, and there's rarely any stress reduction in that exercise! But the labyrinth-lover encouraged me to give the coil a chance.
Here's the drill: I start at the sole opening of the maze and wind my way around the circles. At the center (if I make it there), I stop to read, think or pray;  I am told that sometimes people who are grieving leave an object there (I might just leave myself there as I will probably be grieving my inability to get out).  Then I am supposed to follow the same path out.
Suppose it's a good metaphor for my life.  I get really frustrated because I can't see where I'm going, and I have to trust that the path will take me to the center and then actually remember where I have been.  Life can certainly feel like a labyrinth -- with tortuous turns and stupefying setbacks -- so maybe some direction CAN be found in a meditative maze.  If I follow the labyrinth to the center, the process may seem murky and muddy, unreasonable and inconvenient.

But it is a process, the journey in which the fullness of life is found. Following the path to spiritual wholeness requires humility, the kind of humility that is finally willing to obey (That's the really tough part for me.)  It  still sounds a little too"zen-like" for me.

Funny is always close to true

Alas - obedience is the key. Obedience to the will of a Lord who says, "Walk by faith, not by sight." Obedience along the lines of pious pilgrims in the Chartres Cathedral who move through a maze to get to Christ at the core, following paths that expose them to stained-glass windows and creative carvings full of stories of the faith.

Obedience along the lines of modern labyrinth-lovers who find that their disciplined walk gives them a chance to cry -- to open themselves to feelings of hurt, sadness, grief, disappointment, betrayal, pain or fear, and to bring these deep and honest feelings to the Lord, who coaxes them always toward completeness.

I once assumed that life was or should be a straight-line experience leading to happiness and wholeness. Hello! Life is seldom a straight-line experience, but rather is filled with innumerable conundrums through which I can find a center -- a center which is always located in the will of God.

As in all acts of commitment to God, once is not enough. A single trip in the labyrinth is never enough for authority-resistant creatures - remember Naaman?  Seven plunges were required -- or Peter? 70 times seven. I have found that only multiple immersions can drown my obsession with precedent and practicality, and overcome my obstreperous (noisy & difficult to control) resistance to the guidance of our God. Spiritual wholeness requires a daily deep dip in the healing waters of obedience, even when the river is muddy and the path of the quickly flowing maze is completely perplexing. When I take this faithful leap, I discover that the water is healing and the wandering itself is revealing -- the twists and turns of the labyrinthine experience actually lead to clarity, not confusion. It's a strange little story, isn't it? But so true to life in the labyrinth. Sometimes my healing takes a path I do not expect, or it seems incomplete at first. I have to hang in there and let Jesus continue working with me.
Fullness of life in the center of a muddy labyrinth?  Only by walking faithfully can I commit myself completely to the will of God, and wind my way toward a spiritual wholeness that wraps together spirit, body, mind, conscience, emotions and reason. It is in deep, daily dips in the waters of obedience that I experience the healing that our Lord provides, healing that continues through all life's twists and turns. Truth?  I'm becoming myself in the making. The right path, you might say, is as clear as mud.  That's why I'm sticking to a quiet time in my favorite chair & leaving the maze to the children of the corn or the rats.

"Learing"

I call it "Learing." Mrs. Huckabee started it.  She made us read King Lear in High School English class.  It is a story about a vain old man who loses everything, including his devoted daughter.  The King goes crazy after foolishly liquidating his fortune between two of his three daughters based on their flattery.  She told us that it was a "classic" and audiences love it. But in the 19th century the ending was edited for audiences who did not like the depressing ending.  Now that's convenient.  I was puzzled as a 17 year old.  Still am.  Why do people like to watch movies like Titanic, Gone with the Wind, or Doctor Zhivago?  I am not fond of going through tragedy.  And, I really don't like reading about it or watching it at the movies.  (Again - I call it "Learing.") Then again, I'm not too fond of going to the movies anyway.  

I have found, however, in my short life that most people are not like me, and that is a good thing. Most people seem to enjoy watching a tragedy on film or reading about it in novels or plays. This is something we probably know instinctively, but it's been confirmed by "studies."  So why is this true?

 I have lost people that I love - it's devastating and tragic. Whether loss comes through a romantic breakup, a separation, a divorce or a death, the grieving process is painful.  Dr. Wayne Oates wrote a classic entitled Your Particular Grief that has been a tremendous help to me.

How about watching a tragedy?  It's a TRAGEDY. It is like when people ask me what the Bible book of Hebrews is about.  HEBREWS - hello?  TRAGEDIES end with loss or death. But audiences since the time of the ancient Greeks have loved them. Why is this?

A team of researchers at Ohio State University has marshaled evidence "that watching tragedy inspires self-reflection, which allows us to refocus on the people in our lives we might otherwise take for granted." They conclude that the melancholy we feel when watching these stories ultimately provokes "pleasant feelings of gratitude."

That's right: Watching a tragedy makes us feel thankful. Kind of weird.

Writing in the journal Communication Research, these cultural scholars say that the sadness we feel during such a story "fosters thoughts about one's close relationships." We naturally contrast our own lives with the miserable fates suffered by tragic characters, and the end result is a feeling of happiness. Tragedies can wake us up, remind us of the fragility of life, and inspire us to count our blessings "with regard to close relationships." At the end of the story, we are grateful for what we have. 

That's the value of tragedy. "Learing." But can tragedy turn my life around? 

I was asked this week a good question.  What do you consider the most important aspect of the Christian faith?  My answer?  The Resurrection of Jesus.  Lots of people died on crosses only one bodily resurrection.  As I reflect, I am still thinking I am sticking with my answer; however, Mrs. Huckabee's speech on King Lear and the value of tragedy has merit.  How often I find things in life dragging me down.  I need help - an advocate.  I long for someone to take my place - a substitute, a savior.  Interesting that those are the three sides of Jesus in the TRAGEDY of the cross.  Resurrected he now argues my case and puts himself in my place. He saves me from any sin that rips the fabric of my relationships with God, neighbor and self.  Yes - self - I am most of the time my own worst enemy.

At the end of His tragic earthly story, Jesus wants me to be grateful and empowers me to turn my life around.
I feel pretty good about my life right now. But reading, watching, and reflecting on tragedy makes me think more seriously about my existence.  It kind of wakes me up, and reminds me that horrible things can and do happen and that inspires me to appreciate each day I have - taking no day or no one for granted.

The CROSS of Christ did that for me.  I am deeply moved by this gift, and accept it with thanks.  God's plans are certainly different from mine.  If it were left up to me there would be no "Learing."  But God knows that right now in our world?  There's lot to "Lear" about.

Stress 911

Yesterday I mowed the grass and trimmed the hedges.  It was a stress relief - the front of my house was beginning to look like the Adam's family lived here.  If worry is the interest paid on trouble before it is due, too often I would be maxed to the gills.  "Toxic" worriers are people who obsess over everything that could possibly go wrong - to the point of paralysis by analysis.  According to "studies," I was told this past week, that toxic worriers were 21/2 times more likely to suffer heart attacks than less stressed-out individuals.  In my brief life I have done a lot of things that were supposed to relieve my stress and worry.

How about the old - just "Don't worry, be Happy?" -remember that remedy? - didn't work for me.  

There are some suggestions that I found that do have promise. Like...

Using my Mastercard to pay off my Visa.

Popping some popcorn without putting the lid on.

When someone says,"Have a nice day!", tell them I have other plans. (rude!)

Make a list of things I have have already done. (short list - could be boring & more stressful)

Go shopping, Buy Everything, Sweat in them, Return them the next day! (Seems that this was a Seinfeld episode.)

Drive to work in reverse. (My aunt Clara did drive (not in reverse though) on the wrong side of the interstate from Jackson   to Houston one time - but she always seemed stressed out.)

Play my old records backwards and listen for subliminal messages. (never did this - now I have to find a record player to do it...I wonder if I can play CD's backward?)

Bill my doctor for the time I spent in his waiting room. (Now this is a good idea!)

Every time I begin to think that  paralyzing fear and worry only strikes other people, I take a good look in the mirror.  Nearly half the American people are consumed with one form or another of worry, says Edward Hallowell, a psychiatrist & Harvard Medical School dude. The old English word for worry had the idea of someone choking.  The Greeks?  Being pulled into four different directions at one time.  Now that is a low blow.  Mainly because it describes me 90% of the time.


In know, I know - there is a thing called good worry - a worry that is suppose to lead to constructive action.  Not working for me.  But in theory that is how it is supposed to work.  Toxic worry on the other hand is something of which I am familiar.  It does just the opposite. It paralyzes.  I tend to brood, to ruminate, to wake up in the middle of the night. Meanwhile I don't take action. It sounds a lot like the servant who took his talent and hid it? Remember that gem from Bible School?

When I hear this parable, I immediately think that he was  "unfaithful" or "lazy," because, frankly, that's how the Good Book renders it.  While this is part of the picture, there is another vantage point from which I can view the actions of the servants in this parable. Why did the one servant shirk from developing his gift, while the other two invested their "talents" -- which one scholar estimates equal 15 years' wages! -- and made 100 percent profits?

Again - according to the Book -  the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, 'Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.'" The key phrase for me is right in the middle: SO I WAS AFRAID.  Stressed, worried - and it got toxic. I  sympathize with the poor guy in this parable who, when given some money to invest, fell victim to paralysis by analysis, worried that he might lose the whole wad. So he buried it rather than buying bonds, banking it, or taking a chance with the bulls and bears of the stock market. When the CEO returned, heads rolled. (Sound familiar?)

Now - lets just speculate  - IF worry can inspire action or stop it cold. Accepting -- just for a moment -- the idea that the master was indeed "harsh" and someone who "[reaped] where [he] did not sow," look at the responses of the three servants. It's not that the first two didn't have their share of worry about this assignment. They were no doubt petrified to the bottom of their portfolios.

But maybe they had good worry, the worry that works. All three servants shared the same circumstances. They all had a harsh master. They were all given a job to do. They all had the same stockbrokers, investors to deal with. Two made worry work for them; the third was poisoned by it.
In today's arena, they might have purchased an Internet stock at its initial public offering; or perhaps they became "day traders," captains of the new economy shuttling funds, internet savvy, into this stock and out of that with a rapidity that can make your head spin. (Thinking this may be one of the problems with today's Dow averages).  Whatever the motivation, and whatever they did, these two servants did something substantial: The returned a handsome profit to their master. And, indeed, the master in this parable was pleased with their work, rewarding each for their effort and success.

But the third servant froze in his tracks. (There I am - again!)  Maybe he believed the untruths he told himself about his master, that this was a man who was harsh and even a thief, someone who harvested what he didn't plant. These things AREN'T true of God, of course, nor of Jesus, but they ARE what many people imagine to be true. (and too often I think this way)

Communication, for me, HAS helped over the years.  I talk to someone -- a friend, a relative, my wife, my kids.  Talking helps me put things in perspective. I attempt should to get the real facts of a situation. Find out what is and isn't true. Leadership Guru Peter Drucker says that "once the facts are clear, the decisions jump out at you."

Finally, I make a plan to deal with the situation, whatever it is. See what can be done to improve a problem -- rather than let it fester.  As a believer, however -- as a servant of the great Master -- I have something even greater than just talking it over with others or making a to-do list as ways to conquer worry. I have a loving Savior who wants to see me do well, to succeed with whatever He's given me to do. His presence, that hope, helps me conquer toxic worry in the here and now -- and in the weeks and months to come.  I have found that most things are not worth losing stomach lining over. Taking Jesus literally -  until the next day -  not worry about that...lot's of stuff to worry about today -I'm at least banking on it.