Category Archives: growth

Letter 50: With a Shine on Your Shoes

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Last week, I decided to polish my shoes.  It has been a long time since I last did so, and it’s important to keep them polished.  They last longer that way.  It was one of the odd rituals of manhood instilled in me by my father.  I can remember helping him polish his shoes as a child.  He had a wooden shoe-shine box where he kept the supplies.  The handle doubled as a stand for the shoe.  Eventually as I kept my shoes longer, he showed me how to polish my own.

First, remove all visible dirt and debris with a soft brush, then apply the polish.  Wait a few minutes and then buff.  Repeat for additional shine.  For added protection and moisturizing, I learned to apply mink oil, which gave my shoes a glossy shine.  Once complete, take satisfaction in a job well done.

The message was clear, as a man, you take care of your possessions and your appearance.  Learn to sew buttons, darn socks, even hem trousers.  I have now owned the same pair of penny loafers for thirty years.  If you look closely, you’ll know that they’ve been re-soled and re-heeled, but that’s the only real sign of their age.

But it’s getting to be more of a challenge.  The last time I had my shoes worked on, I had to use a local dry-cleaner, as there are no cobblers in my area.  The same seems to apply to tailors.  Perhaps this is why people dress up so infrequently these days.  There is something about wearing a suit tailored to your frame.  Clothes off the rack have an element of shapelessness to them.  But then, we live in a shapeless age.

It may seem strange to you to find a reflection on something as prosaic as shoe polishing with all of the screaming headlines demanding our action and attention.  Perhaps, but I would submit that the discipline of keeping your shoes polished builds a frame of mind and character, badly needed.  We would all do well to take care of those things entrusted tour custody, to minimize waste, and to present ourselves at our best, not merely for our own sake, but as a measure of respect due to others.

He that is faithful in the least, he is also faithful in much: and he that is unjust in the least, is unjust also in much. If then ye have not been faithful in the wicked riches, who will trust you in the true treasure? And if ye have not been faithful in another man’s goods, who shall give you that which is yours?”  Luke 16: 10-12 (Geneva)

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Letter 46: Sourdough Jesus

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Last Spring, I decided to learn how to bake bread.  When I was a kid, I baked a couple of loaves from a recipe my aunt gave me, but I had done nothing since.  I thought it would be fairly easy, mix up the four, water and yeast, let it rise for a bit, and then bake.  This proved grossly optimistic.  I tossed several loaves before I finally baked one fit for use.

Along the way, I did learn many things about bread and bread baking that expanded my understanding of Scripture.  In the Old Testament, of course, bread is an important part of worship, as special loaves were baked for the priests to present to God and then consume as their daily bread.  Bread stands as a symbol of sustenance, and a key element of fellowship.

Most significantly of course is Passover, the Feast of Un-Leavened Bread.  For years, I thought I understood Passover.  Jews were required to eat bread without yeast.  That seemed easy enough.  The yeast causes the dough to rise, so matzos are flat.  Except there was no such thing as yeast back then.

Our word “yeast” comes from the middle ages.  People believed it was the bubbles that appeared in fermenting grain or liquids.  Scientists first observed yeast through a microscope in the 1680s.  It was not until 1850, however, that Louis Pasteur successfully isolated yeast and identified it as a living organism responsible for fermentation.  Within ten years, scientists developed a process for the manufacture of yeast for commercial and domestic purposes.  Fleischmann demonstrated this yeast to the American public during the Centennial celebrations in 1876.  The rest, as they say, is history.

So how did they make bread without yeast?  They didn’t.  We now know that yeast is naturally occurring in the air, on the ground, and even on the very grains ground to make bread.  Almost five thousand years ago, our ancestors discovered that if you ground grain, mixed it with water, and left it out for a couple of days, it would start to ferment, creating hundreds of tiny bubbles, that could yield a substance that we much more pleasant to eat.  With time, they took things a step further, reserving some of the fermenting dough to use in the next loaf.  That reserved portion was called the “leaven,” or if you want to be fancy, “levain.”

A good leaven was valuable, an absolutely essential requirement for any household.  Travelers would carry their leaven with them, usually in a pouch, close to their person.  It might be passed down through the generations.  Even after commercial yeast took over retail baking, the use of leaven remained.  It is the foundation of San Francisco sourdough.

This is what the Israelites were forbidden from using to make their bread during Passover.  More importantly, they were ordered to remove the leaven from their homes (Ex. 12:15b).  They would need the leaven to make their bread after Passover, but it takes time for the leaven to develop.  In the interim, they were literally trusting God for their daily bread.

In the hands of Jesus, the Passover un-leavened bread becomes something more.  In Christ’s hands, it becomes his very Body, the Living Bread.  Just as the yeast in bread dough, unbaked, is alive, so Christ is alive in us, suffusing us and enlarging us.  He has become the “Mother Dough,” replicating Himself in the lives of every one of His saints.

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Letter 45: Cupcakes and Wide Phylactories

Yesterday was my wife’s birthday, and I took it upon myself to bake her birthday cupcakes.  I like to bake, and I have even begun to venture into the world of baking from scratch.  But that applies only to things I am quite familiar with, bread and cookies.  From long experience with packaged mixes, I know roughly what I want, and what to look for.  But cakes remain a terra incognita of sorts, and so I entrust myself to the wisdom and industrial science of Betty Crocker and Duncan Hines.

But it was not merely a boxed mix.  It appealed to our higher aspirations.  It contained special frosting mix and a genuine icing bag to use in frosting the cupcakes.  My efforts at laying on frosting have been less than successful, but armed with such tools and directions, I had hopes that I, too, could create a confection worthy of the finest bake shops.

My efforts yielded some perfectly ordinary cupcakes.  It took me until my fourth cupcake to apply the frosting so that it completely covered the cupcake with one go.  In the end, some did not get frosting at all, but I had my one cupcake to properly decorate and present to my wife replete with candles.  I was pretty pleased with how it turned out, because I wanted to do something nice for her.  Before I brought it in to her, I took a picture.

And therein lies the trouble.  I wanted to post the picture to Facebook, that repository of the odd effects of our lives.  So in part, my motivation for posting the photograph was to show how we were celebrating my wife’s birthday, sharing a bit of our loves with family and friends.  But I wanted something too.

At first, I was going to introduce the picture apologizing that it was not on par with the work of a cousin who is a professional baker.  That would shift the focus from celebrating my wife’s birthday to the cupcake.  Worse, it would make the present of the cupcake to be less than what it was.  No, I could not say that, so off those words went into the ether.

But I could not let go of the desire for people to admire my cupcake, and, by implication, me.  So I tried another tack, attempting to describe my labors as producing something worthy of my wife.  Again, this subtly shifted the focus.   “Please look at my cupcake, and sing my praises for making it.”  A voice cleared in my head.  This would not do.  The focus and the point must be about my wife.  So I simply wrote, “Happy Birthday Dear,” and left it at that.

All of this took little more than a minute in the privacy of my mind.  It seems somewhat contradictory sharing it here, as if trying to draw attention to my virtue.  But I do offer this because I really wanted people to tell me what a wonderful cupcake I had made.  It speaks of the vanity that is in us all, sometimes masquerading as a sense of emptiness that needs filling, and brings me to the point I want to make.

In Philippians 2:5-11, Paul tells us, “Let Christ himself be your example as to what your attitude should be. For he, who had always been God by nature, did not cling to his prerogatives as God’s equal, but stripped himself of all privilege by consenting to be a slave by nature and being born as mortal man. And, having become man, he humbled himself by living a life of utter obedience, even to the extent of dying, and the death he died was the death of a common criminal. That is why God has now lifted him so high, and has given him the name beyond all names, so that at the name of Jesus “every knee shall bow”, whether in Heaven or earth or under the earth. And that is why, in the end, “every tongue shall confess” that Jesus Christ” is the Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (Phillips, emphasis mine)

I’m wondering if that is what is meant by “carrying our cross.”  It wasn’t so much that Jesus suffered, though He certainly did.  It is more a sense of forgetting of self, not, as I often do, because of a sense of self-negation and an earnest desire for approval.  Rather, Jesus so thoroughly full of Himself, and understood Himself completely, that there was no need to pay attention to Himself in that way.  The usual ups and downs that so assail us in no way changed who He was.  Secure in that, He could, and did, do anything, and underwent the slings of outrageous fortune in no way changed the fact that Jesus was God, even if no one else chose to recognize Him as such.

As we close out the year, this episode brought to mind that I should work on cultivating that same sense of self-forgetfulness.  That no one will have to ask if the cupcake was good, because the focus is on the recipient, where it belongs.

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Letter 37: What Does Scripture Say?

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“Philip ran up and heard him reading Isaiah the prophet, and said, “Do you understand what you are reading?” And he said, ‘Well, how could I, unless someone guides me?’” Acts 8:30-31a NASB

  1. The authority of the Holy Scripture, for which it ought to be believed, and obeyed, depends not upon the testimony of any man, or Church; but wholly upon God (who is truth itself) the author thereof: and therefore it is to be received, because it is the Word of God.
  2. The whole counsel of God concerning all things necessary for His own glory, man’s salvation, faith and life, is either expressly set down in Scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from Scripture: unto which nothing at any time is to be added, whether by new revelations of the Spirit, or traditions of men. Nevertheless, we acknowledge the inward illumination of the Spirit of God to be necessary for the saving understanding of such things as are revealed in the Word: and that there are some circumstances concerning the worship of God, and government of the Church, common to human actions and societies, which are to be ordered by the light of nature, and Christian prudence, according to the general rules of the Word, which are always to be observed.

VII. All things in Scripture are not alike plain in themselves, nor alike clear unto all: yet those things which are necessary to be known, believed, and observed for salvation are so clearly propounded, and opened in some place of Scripture or other, that not only the learned, but the unlearned, in a due use of the ordinary means, may attain unto a sufficient understanding of them.

VIII. The Old Testament in Hebrew (which was the native language of the people of God of old), and the New Testament in Greek (which, at the time of the writing of it, was most generally known to the nations), being immediately inspired by God, and, by His singular care and providence, kept pure in all ages, are therefore authentical; so as, in all controversies of religion, the Church is finally to appeal unto them.

  1. The infallible rule of interpretation of Scripture is the Scripture itself: and therefore, when there is a question about the true and full sense of any Scripture (which is not manifold, but one), it must be searched and known by other places that speak more clearly.
  2. The supreme judge by which all controversies of religion are to be determined … can be no other but the Holy Spirit speaking in the Scripture.

– Westminster Confession of Faith, Chapter 1 (emphasis added)

We have been engaged in a heated discussion at church that I won’t bore you with.  However the argument behind the arguments has been fascinating.  A few have even brought it to the forefront:  What do the Scriptures say?  This question lies at the heart of Protestantism.  We all say that we are guided by Scripture and Scripture only, if we are true to the tradition of sola scriptura.  But that seems to only beg questions that we do not wish to address, hiding, as it were, behind the big book.

To help illustrate this, I want to step outside of a strictly religious context and venture into another world I am familiar with, the world of Law.  Reading judicial opinions it is always fascinating.  You are presented with a particular factual situation, and the judges choose what laws apply to that situation.  Where this gets truly fascinating is when the judges agree on what laws apply, but disagree on how.  This is exactly what we do when it comes to Scripture.  We have a text that we agree is authoritative, but we can read the same text and come to opposite conclusions.  “A government of laws, not of men,” we proudly proclaim, but of course, it is judges who decide what law governs and how.  We keep trying to remove human input to establish absolute authority, but we never can.

When Luther laid out the standard of sola scriptura, he did so with the expectation that he going to an authority that was authentic, unencumbered with decades of human detritus, utterly unassailable, and one that would be clearly understood by all.  While he never explicitly stated it, he also believed that anyone reading Scripture would come to the same conclusions as to its meaning and application, namely his.  He was surprised, hurt, and angry when things didn’t turn out that way, with the Anabaptists getting the worst of it.

Because we are dealing with what we deem Holy Writ, it is simultaneously important that we get it right and that its application and understanding be universal.  It makes disagreements tricky.  Presumably, someone must be wrong, and the consequences can be eternal.  But who?

The supreme judge by which all controversies of religion are to be determined … can be no other but the Holy Spirit speaking in the Scripture…”

We certainly hope that this is true.  Some go so far as to formally ask for the Spirit’s guidance as they read or listen to Scripture.  I’m not sure if God is so interested in the formalities, but certainly we should enter into the Bible with the expectation that God will be there with us, impressing upon us what He wishes us to understand.

But…..

How are we to make sense of this process, and how do we know we’ve got it right?  More importantly, if we wish to engage our neighbor, how do they know we’ve got it right?

Entire books are written on this subject, and I hardly think I can add anything to them.  But even these texts falter on the question of handling differing understandings.

My first fight with my wife faced this problem squarely.  It was out first Christmas together.  I was driving down to her parents, and tuned in the most wonderful live performance of Handel’s Messiah by an early music ensemble from Montreal.  It was spellbinding, and I couldn’t wait to share the experience with my then girlfriend.  Meanwhile, she was preparing for my arrival by playing Christmas carols on her piano to greet me when I arrived.  I came in, greeted her, and started telling her about the Messiah performance, that she just had to hear.  She got upset, repaired to her room and slammed the door.  I was left staring at the dog, both of us wondering what had just happened.

Slowly, all too slowly, the idea dawned on me.  Maybe she was upset because she wanted me to listen to her playing, and took my enthusiasm for Handel as a criticism of her playing.  At almost the same time, I think the thought struck her that maybe I wasn’t thinking of her piano playing at all.  We talked.  I explained that I didn’t realize that she had planned a special “concert” for me, and that I was just looking to share an experience with her.  Two totally different understandings of the same experience, and each one valid, but so far apart in reaching mutual understanding….

So I conclude with some observations.

First, we are all selective in our use and understanding of Scripture.  Traditional Protestant teaching separates the Old Testament into the moral and the ceremonial Law.  We are to uphold the Ten Commandments, but pass lightly over the directive about preparing sacrifices.  Some wish to restrict themselves to only those things Jesus taught in the Gospels.  Traditional Christian readings of the Song of Songs treat the book as an allegory of God’s love of the Church, yet at the time it was written, there was no church.

Second, we must confess to our own limited understanding.  We “see through a glass but darkly,” and bear the stain of sin everywhere.  We can see this in the obtuseness of the Disciples, in Peter’s comment about the difficulty in understanding Paul’s letter, and indeed, in our own struggles.  If it were easy, we would have no need of the Spirit’s help.

Third, it can be very difficult to fully grasp what God may be saying to other people.   We can, and should go back to Scripture, but we must bear in mind that everything filters through our own understanding.  In practical experience, only rarely do we hear the same thing at the same time.  I am still called upon to evaluate what you report as coming from God, but I must admit that I cannot live inside your head or your heart.

No matter what we do, everything must pass through our minds.  There is no getting around this.  We can claim that Scripture is self-explanatory, but even then, it must pass through our understanding to become self-explanatory.  God promises to one day write the law in our hearts, and certainly we aspire to so unite our wills with God’s that we will will what He wills, without having to think about it.  But for now, I, at least am not there, and I am suspicious of anyone who claims to have achieved that union.

So, approach Scripture with expectation, and humility.  Trust that God will guide you, but keep in mind that we may not understand Him aright.  Until we know as we are known, our understanding is provisional and imperfect.  Be respectful of others, and realize that they labor under the same limitations as you.  Pray, pray, pray, for understanding, wisdom and peace.  The good news is that God is more than able to look out for Himself.  Be patient, and let Him do His work.  “‘Tis grace has brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead  me home.”

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Letter 36: For G, On Her Graduating High School

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Congratulations on graduating high school!  Your Auntie and I are very proud of you.  I hope that you are excited about the next chapter in your life.  We are.  As you enjoy this transition moment, permit me to offer some avuncular advice.  Some of it is advice I wish someone had given me when I stood where you are now.

You are about to embark upon a great adventure, and in a great city to boot.  This is a tremendous opportunity, and I would encourage you to take advantage of it.  Much as when you were a young child, this is a season of exploration, an opportunity to learn more about the world around you.  Take it in.  Relish the sights, and sounds and smells.

Try also to take advantage of the attractions of the city.  It’s not as easy to do as you would think.  Your studies will take up much of your time.  But do go out to see a show or a museum.  Sample some of the different foods on offer.  I’m sure your auntie will be more than happy to help.  And she knows the city.

But for all the new horizons to explore, do not be in a rush.  Take some time to reflect on what you are experiencing.  This is a time to ask questions.  The truth is, while you have been primed to master answers, you will do better to master questions, for those will in time yield the right answers.  Possessing answers without knowing the questions will only confuse you into believing that you know, when you don’t.

This is also a time for making mistakes. Don’t be afraid of them.  You are going to make them despite every effort to avoid them.  That said, don’t do anything knowingly stupid.

You will be meeting people from all over, with very different experiences from you.  Get to know some of these people.  Ask them questions.  I suspect that if you ask most college graduates, what they will remember fondly are the late nights spent talking with other students about the questions great and small.  Does Man have free will?  Was the Designated Hitter a good idea, or should pitchers bat?  Who makes the best pizza?  Long after you forget most of the things you’ve learned in class, you will remember those conversations.

It’s a shame really, that education has become about preparing you for work.  That is important, of course, but college is a really lousy way of accomplishing this.  You will learn most of what you need to do your job on the job.  Forty years ago, most jobs still only required a high school diploma, and many men and women achieved successful careers without one.

Education comes from the Latin root, e ducare, which means “to lead out of,” as in to lead an injured person out of harm’s way.  As applied, the phrase can be understood in two ways.  First, it is the process by which we are led out of ignorance.  This is really a lifelong endeavor, so it becomes important to understand how to learn, and how to apply what you’ve learned.

The other understanding is where I want to focus.  Education can also be the process of drawing out something within you.  I could be the statue that resides in the block of marble, or the book or painting that first hatches in the mind of the artist.  Seen in this way, education becomes the process of becoming more fully a person.  A good educator is able to see that “person” and will work to bring her out.  In time, we hopefully come to recognize ourselves and strive to become more consciously ourselves.

With that in mind, take the time to take classes in subjects that interest you or might help you become more yourself.  You have an opportunity to consult with experts that you may not have again.  Learn something about art, or music, philosophy or religion.  Or maybe it’s the social sciences that pique your interest, where you learn to better understand people.  Don’t try to channel all of your energies into one narrow range of topics.  Look to fill yourself out in knowledge and understanding.

I hope you will choose to share with us at least a glimpse of what you will be seeing and experiencing.  I took up writing when I went off to college, sharing with family and friends what I was doing, some of what I was learning, and some of what I was thinking.  I especially treasure the letters I received back from my grandparents, and the silly post-cards my father sent me.  I’ve saved all of them.  Now that my grandparents are dead, those letters are a piece of them that lives on.

But I have probably detained you long enough.  This is your day to celebrate, and these are just the prolix ponderings of your sentimental uncle who loves you and wishes you well.  Congratulations again on a job well done.  May you continue to blossom and flourish in this next chapter of your life.

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Letter 32: I Am One Acquainted with the Night

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“I have been one acquainted with the night.”

-Robert Frost (1874-1963)

I am writing this as a part of Addie Zierman’s synchro-blog in support of her new book. I have not read it, but many pieces on her blog have resonated with me, including this challenge: “What have you learned from the dark?

Darkness is familiar to me. Not quite an old friend, perhaps, but certainly an acquaintance of long standing. Many days I wish it weren’t so, but thus far, God has been content to keep us close. I suffer from depression, and probably have for years. I have been on mediation for twenty years, and it did not go well when I tried to not take them.

Like many, I found the religious culture of my youth inadequate to address the darkness. I was told to pray more, to seek deliverance, or claim freedom from the spirit of depression, as if I were demon-possessed. I ended up at a Christian college on a scholarship for Christian leadership, not certain I believed in God.

Here, then, is the first lesson I learned in the dark: God is there, too. Far from a static object of our quest or adoration, or indeed, some great, divine, Sugar Daddy, God is present and at work always, in the dark, as much as in the light. Graham Greene’s semi-autobiographical novel, The End of the Affair, uses its title as a pun. It is about the end of an affair conducted by the narrator, but as the story unfolds, we see the second meaning: the narrator slowly becomes aware that he is being silently, but relentlessly pursued by a Divine Lover, who will not rest until He possesses him, body and soul. That is certainly the God I found, or rather that found me, in the dark.

My act of teenaged rebellion was becoming Presbyterian, for I found myself connecting more with the older liturgies of the church. Light and Dark play an important role, and we are beginning Holy Week, when this is played out in dramatic fashion. During the course of the Tenebrae service on either Maundy Thursday or Good Friday, one by one the lights of the church go out until, with the loud cry of “It is finished!” the sanctuary goes completely dark.

The darkness continues until Easter. For three days Christ lay in the darkness of the tomb. Like the Disciples, we wait. The wait can seem long and hard. But even in the darkness, unseen and unfelt, Christ is at work. I am the grass. Let me work.

As the story of Christ “ends” in darkness, so it begins. In Advent, we start in darkness and silence. The minister strikes a match, it hisses and sizzles to life, piercing the darkness, as it moves to a candle, wavers and catches, spreading the light. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light,” the minister intones, quoting the words of Isaiah 9:2, “they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.”

We need darkness to see the light. It is part of the cycle of life. In human terms, we rest when it’s dark. And perhaps in our darkness, God is calling us to rest, too. We find it so hard. We cannot see, and any action is as likely to end in a collision or a stumbling. We can only trust the God who hides in light as well as dark. We are at an end of ourselves, and it is terrifying.

Yet we are not alone. The other lesson I have learned is that there are others in the darkness. Some have passed before, others are with us now, and we need them. God connects us in the darkness in ways that He cannot in the light. We wrestle with God, and like Jacob, we bear the marks, and we can spot a fellow survivor. Those who have accompanied us into the darkness will stick with us in the light.

Our days consist of darkness and light. Any practice of faith that will only recognize one is incomplete at best, and false at worst. And there was evening, and there was morning, and so it goes.

I love old hymns. At their best, they hold a richness of faith and experience. And so, as I close, an evening hymn seems most apt.

All praise to thee, my God, this night, for all the blessings of the light! Keep me, O keep me, King of kings, beneath thine own almighty wings.

Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son, the ill that I this day have done, that with the world, myself, and thee, I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.

Teach me to live, that I may dread the grave as little as my bed. Teach me to die, that so I may rise glorious at the judgment day.

O may my soul on thee repose, and with sweet sleep mine eyelids close, sleep that may me more vigorous make to serve my God when I awake.

When in the night I sleepless lie, My soul with heavenly thoughts supply; Let no ill dreams disturb my rest, No powers of darkness me molest.

O when shall I, in endless day, For ever chase dark sleep away, And hymns divine with angels sing, All praise to thee, eternal King?

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow; praise him, all creatures here below; praise him above, ye heavenly host; praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

-Thomas Ken (1637-1711)

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Letter 28: Of Dead Christmas Trees, Charlie Brown

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Today in the office’s annual holiday luncheon, which seems as good a point as any to reflect on the Christmas season just ended.  There are still some forlorn decorations and goods for sale in the clearance rack at various retailers, testimony to dashed hopes and extravagant dreams.

As I’ve gotten older, Christmas has receded as a holiday.  As a child, of course, Christmas is the major holiday of the year.  It forms a colossal combination of birthday, Halloween, the Fourth of July, and Thanksgiving in one month-long package.  It served as an open invitation to dream, greedily, of what to request of Santa.  There was much excitement Christmas morning as the wrapping paper was carefully cut open, folded, and put aside, so we could tear into the contents.  It was indeed a magical time.

But now, I’m not sure what to do with Christmas.  It brings on an overburdened schedule, as every organization on earth seeks to hold an event to celebrate, which “demands” my attention.  Concerts, plays, special services, parties, family gatherings, and still more parties.  Then there are cookies to bake and cards to send.  And of course, there are the decorations, inside and out.  Were Christ to come again at this time, I think we would miss Him entirely, so great is our busyness.

What has any of this to do with Christ’s coming into the world?  I round out this season feeling empty and uneasy.  I can well relate to Charlie Brown.  Lucy suggests that we need involvement, to give us that Christmas spirit, but it doesn’t work.  I just feel more empty, and tired to boot.

What should I be feeling at Christmas?  Joy?  Peace?  Hope?  Love?  Re-reading the Christmas stories in the Bible, I see wonder and anxiety.  How does Mary explain her pregnancy to Joseph, to her family, to her community?  What will Joseph do?  How will he cope with the disruptions the blessed event causes?  Will the child survive the threats against him?  Who is this child, who for us men, and for our salvation, came down from heaven, and was incarnate, and was made man?

So perhaps my unease is not unreasonable.  There should be a sort of ambiguity in our minds come Christmastide.  For the wondrous gifts of Christmas come only through the Cross.  The coming of the Christ Child will bring the rising and falling of many, even in our own lives.

Come, Lord Jesus.

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