IT'S NOT TOO LATE FOR SOME HOLIDAY DICKENS

[A Saturday Feature of the First Road Blog]

It isn’t too late to read instead-of or as-well-as watching Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. Beginning in 1951 viewing was the thing for me. It was a childhood tradition to find the Alastar Sim version on one of our three channels. Then the movie was replaced by an operatic version - which may explain some of my ambivalence toward opera to this day. In later years I discovered a VHS edition and reintroduced the program to my yearly experience of the holidays. Now Judy and I enjoy the old show in a colorized DVD edition. 

Now, finally, I have read the book and found it well suited to being a tradition of its own. A section read each night completes the project in less than a week and it is in harmony with the 1951 movie. There are additions and relocations and omissions, of course, but nothing like the almost total re-writes and plot-line changes so common in modern movie “adaptations." For example, the housekeeper in the movie is not in the book. However, the book's description of Scrooge’s visit to his own deathbed is not in the movie. In my opinion Scrooge’s reform on Christmas Day is much more thorough in the book. Also, I enjoy Dickens’ observations as, for example, when the changed Scrooge laughs with relief that he has not died after all.

Really, for a man who had been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh. The father of a long, long line of brilliant laughs!

And then there are the asides. Dickens tells us Scrooge’s former partner, Jacob Marley, is "dead as a door nail." Then he takes a moment to say:

Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it.

As for Scrooge’s aloofness, Dickens, with a flourish of the pen, describes him as being solitary as an oyster.

The message of the story, you may remember, has to do with the second of what I call the Sovereign Commands – love for neighbor. It is not a source for information on the afterlife; but it is not intended to be. It is, instead, an artistic presentation of the darkness of belated regret. There is something to be said for Marley’s agonized exclamation – “Mankind was my business!”

A copy of A Christmas Carol is not out of your reach. To be sure, there is the local library; but it can also be found on Amazon.com in book, video, and Kindle edition. You can even download a free copy in PDF format.

Enjoy! And have a Merry Christmas.

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A CHALLENGE FOR NOT-GOD PEOPLE

Couldn't resist plugging a now-twelve-
years-old grandkid here :-) 

[A Monday / Wednesday / Friday Devotional Feature of the First Road Blog]

When doctrine is put into creed the devil can be in the details. I don’t mean to say it is wrong to establish creedal statements. I appreciate the passion of our Pastor to keep such statements before us. What I have in mind is the tendency to become doctrinally imbalanced when we read the Scripture. In the previous devotional I expressed fascination with Jesus’ ability as a boy to listen, ask questions, understand, and give answers which knocked the sandals off the rabbis with whom he spoke. Why I am intrigued is that I don’t slip into the analysis that, Oh yes, he was God. That's why he could do that.”

Of course I believe he was (and is) God. The Bible gives me no alternative, nor do I want one. But there is another creedal issue involved. I also believe he became perfect man and from infancy he grew in wisdom as well as stature. The Bible gives me no alternative with regard to that either; and neither do I want one. Therefore, when I see him functioning as a man and doing so in an exemplary way, I do not assume that he is functioning as God unless the behavior is clearly a violation of God-ordained natural law, as in walking on water or radiating a drop-dead brilliance.

That having been said, is there something I can discover in this perfect boy-who-was-God concerning growth in wisdom which applies to me as a believing man-but-not-God? And, if so, what does that tell me with regard to encouraging other believing but not-God persons to grow in wisdom? First Peter 3:15 suggests the importance of my questions.

Sanctify the Lord God in your hearts, and always be ready to give an answer (defense) to everyone who asks you a reason for the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear.

NEXT DEVOTIONAL: JESUS' HOME - IMPORTANT ASSUMPTIONS

PREVIOUS DEVOTIONAL: THIS KID KNOCKED THEIR SANDALS OFF

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THIS KID KNOCKED THEIR SANDALS OFF

[A Monday / Wednesday / Friday Devotional Feature of the First Road Blog]

I have in mind a Christmas play. It would begin with a boy sitting among grown men. Although the audience would not hear, the men and boy would appear to speak about great things and with great interest until the session is interrupted by the arrival of a man and woman - clearly, the boy’s parents. At that point the audience would overhear an exchange between mother and son; and one of the men would hustle them closer to the audience while the boy and the other men exit to carry on their discussion somewhere else. When they’re gone, the man would want to know more about this boy who "knocked the sandals off the rabbis."  

I have never met a boy with so many questions; and they’re such good ones; and… well… I have to admit, I’m not always sure who’s doing the teaching. I think I’ve learned more in two days of talking with your son than I learned in a month from my Rabbi when I was his age.

From that point the scenes of the familiar Nativity account pass before us on stage as Jesus' parents share their memories with the excited rabbi. 

Even as a youth Jesus had the self discipline of listening and asking questions in such a way as to impress men of education with his understanding and answers. In fact, “impress” is an understatement. The word astonished has the idea of standing out of position, like an occasional judge on a Got Talent audition who can’t stay in his seat when confronted with totally unexpected excellence.

The encounter does not align well with a concept of teaching as telling, and learning as passing tests. His skill intrigues me, not so much with regard to formal education as to the possibilities of ongoing education in the neglected art of conversation. 

NEXT DEVOTIONAL:  A CHALLENGE FOR NOT-GOD PEOPLE

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The Ugly Boxes

Photo Credit

Wrapping paper and empty boxes bore testimony to a frenzy of Christmas gift-receiving. All the presents had been accounted for. That is, all except the collection of terribly homely packages still under the tree. There were no labels, but there were exactly the same number of gifts as people in the room.

The boxes made everyone uncomfortable. No one dared suggest they should open them, or dispose of them. Rather, they busied themselves collecting the trash, organizing the gifts, texting friends and continuing the celebration in other parts of the house. In the kitchen the hostess picked up a pen and pad.

Note to Self: 

Find out who brought those eyesores 

and make sure they don’t do it again.

You, however, could not get those boxes out of your mind. Something about their homeliness made you feel homely, too. Or, worse than homely: ugly. They reminded you of some pretty awful stuff you had entertained in your head and some terribly unkind things you had spoken and foolish things you had done. In fact, now that you thought about it, you felt as though opening one of those boxes might expose all that trash and more for the world to see.

To make it worse, just about the time you did forget about them, there would be the whisper of a breeze near a window or when you stepped outside to glimpse the seasonal landscape. It seemed to beckon you back to the living room… to the boxes.

Finally, you yielded. When you stepped into the living room you were surprised to find two girls and a boy staring at the packages. You would have preferred to have been alone, but now there you were.

In the silence, no one dared do anything until one of the girls announced, “this is “stupid,” and left. The remaining girl took that moment to square her shoulders, mutter “no it isn’t” and seize a box. That gave you and the boy the courage to do the same, but with considerably less boldness. The way she tore into the wrapping surprised you. You wished you had her courage. Instead, you applied more care to the process.

When the girl's eyebrows popped up, the boy asked, “What’s in it?” 

“Just some straw, and a couple nails and a piece of paper with a word on it.”

“What word?” you asked.

“Listen.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. What’s in yours.”

You tore away the last of the wrapping and lifted the lid.

“Same thing, but my word is Come.”

“Mine says Open,” the boy volunteered.

Before you could think what it might mean, you were startled by a gentle rap on the front door.

Wide-eyed, you exchanged glances. The girl stood. You and the boy followed her to the door. The gentle knock greeted your arrival. The boy grasped the knob, hesitated and then pulled the door open – very slowly.

There, with a most disarming smile, stood a man who looked no different than any other man. Yet, there was something about him which made you think it would be wonderful if he could be your best friend; and then it made you scold yourself for being so foolish as to imagine he would want to be.

“My Father is planning a welcome home celebration for you," he announced. 

Oh! You so much wanted to accept the invitation. But... 

You looked nervously back into the house. The man anticipated your question.

“They won’t know you’re gone. Your body will be here, but your heart will be with me. Some will think you seemed a little preoccupied, but they won’t know why until later, when you can explain it to them.”

You shook your head. “I don’t understand."

“You don’t have to. Just know this, from now on you will live in two worlds, mine and the world which will one day be mine again. And as for the things you thought you would find in the box. You already found those in your heart’s memory. I have paid for all those things. You are forgiven.”

Together you followed him down the sidewalk.

“What about the other boxes?” the girl wanted to know.

“Most will ignore them,” he replied. “Others will take one but they won’t open it. They’ll give it some meaning of their own and treat it like a charm. Some will even set it on a shelf once a year and put lights around it and talk about how special it makes them feel." 

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Grace Givers Among Mercy Scorners

Discussing the War
In a Paris Coffee House

Gratefully, no one took polls at the time of Jesus’ birth. We know the word made the rounds among shepherds, but it was nothing to warrant an “approval rating.” Had the angels done their flash mob in Jerusalem instead of a pasture that might have been another matter. It certainly would have galvanized Herod to action sooner. Herod understood – babies grow up to be adults, and adults can be irritating. Had the populace realized what this infant was going to become his soldiers might not have been necessary. There could have been a community riot demanding that God go back where he came from, much like we see emerging today.

Consider the reception Jesus’ followers have received when they have “invaded” communities with the message of God’s mercy. I refer to those who offered that mercy in a context of grace ministries to the needs of the people around them. They started hospitals and schools; they dug wells and brought relief from disasters among people who lived by the rule of survival of the fittest. And, in the process, they were harassed, persecuted and murdered.

Jesus himself demonstrated that the gospel of God’s mercy in salvation is proclaimed by walking grace-full-ly among those who that reject mercy. He knew most people wanted nothing to do with mercy; but he was alert to those who did – the one leper in ten, the woman in the crowd, the man in the tree, and many who heard him say, “Your sins are forgiven.” And so we must be. 

Like the people of Jesus’ day, the rabble majority eventually will be displeased with those who follow him and offer mercy on his terms. They will call them names and maybe even do a theme-and-variation on “Crucify Him!” But those followers will have succeeded in God’s mission. Because of them, mercy needers will have become mercy finders and a new generation of grace givers. 

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A Second Look at "Peace On Earth"

Photo Credit

We make a mistake at Christmas when we consider the message of the angels to the shepherds.

PEACE ON EARTH, GOOD WILL TOWARD MEN

We are correct to think Jesus is about bringing an end to war and injustice. What we miss is that peace will come as the result of the good will of God toward men; and that good will was first extended in the offer of mercy to any who would willingly receive it.  

Photo Credit

The shepherds may have understood this. Like all disenfranchised Israelis they felt the black hole of the consequences of the nation’s idolatry. Even that night in Bethlehem they recognized their hopeless entrapment in its newest manifestation: the worship of power.

They also may have understood the priority of mercy because they may have been the breeders and tenders of the sacrificial sheep for the temple just six miles away. No doubt there were cynics among them who sneered as they herded their flocks into the pens and received meager pay knowing the priests would gouge the customers who needed an offering to “make God happy.” But others must have remembered that the blood of sheep could not provide the national or personal mercy they needed. These might have understood the title, Lamb of God.

Of course, they would not have known that extending good will would span two millennia and embrace Gentiles; but some should have realized, as should we, before the King comes he must gather together those who will be his citizens – a people who will want his mercy in order, eventually, to be able to reign with him in an atmosphere of mercy driven grace.

When we understand the angelic message this way we must ask, “Have we found the good will of God’s mercy? And, if so, what is our responsibility in a world which spurns it?” 

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Doing the Math / Feeling Belatedly Grateful... Again

At Thanksgiving and Christmas we often hear the old lyrics: "Over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house we go." For me there's something about December 20th even now. On the 18th we say Christmas will happen in a week. But when we reach the twenties it's like turning off the main road and starting down the familiar lane to Christmas-Central - Grampa and Gramma's place. That is why, today, I would like to post these thoughts about this picture. 

Christmas 1955. I was ten years old. Recently I did the math. It isn't the first time I've done that sort of thing; but, as always, it finds me feeling belatedly grateful. 

My grandmother, when the picture was taken, was the age I am now !!! My grandfather was five years younger.

Seven years earlier, Mom (already in the throes of the mental illness which would plague her for all but the last few years of her life) had broken up her marriage and moved back home. By 1955 my grandparents realized they would have the responsibility of being co-guardians (and often sole guardians) of a "child in their old age." 

I did not appreciate that fact back then. At Christmas time it comes to mind when I think of John the Baptist. He was an only child raised by parents who should have been his grandparents. Yet, in a way, I did recognize the fact that the likelihood of losing them in death increased each passing year. That thought occurred often. What I did not appreciate is, perhaps, something that cannot be fully felt until one looks at a photo and does the math. 

So, my gratitude was late. Too late. Now, the best I can do is to take my hat off at every opportunity to grandparents I know or meet who have been assigned that same task. And, I also celebrate grandparents who recognize they cannot assume that responsibility and actively seek the best place for their grandchild to find a healthy and happy home.

Being a grandparent and the guardian of a child is not an easy task. Being unable to involve themselves in many things an energized youngster hankers for can be depressing. I feel both as I try to interact with youth in our church but have to say, "no," to events where I am no longer able to keep up. 

(Although, I must say, I did relatively well following a pack of teens on a huff-n-puff, power-walk, digital scavenger hunt through the Disney resorts the other night.) 

Nor is it easy to maintain the balance of the wisdom of thinking "old" and the exuberant creativity of thinking "young." 

If you are a grandparent with youngsters in your care, may God speak good things to you, through you and on  your behalf. (That's long-hand for "God bless you.") Take heart. If the grandkids don't seem to appreciate what you're doing, don't harp about it. Mine didn't - which is another thing I never thanked them for. It's a safe guess that the time will come for them, as it has for me, to do the math. You may not be in earshot. If you know the Lord you'll find out eventually. In fact, your absence may be what really prods them to encourage others in ways they would not have thought of otherwise. 

If you are a grandchild being raised by "old folks," write down the year when you will be their age and cut them some slack. In fact, if you found ways to make their load lighter by doing things that need to be done without needing to be asked, that might actually melt some of the years away. Oh...and one more thing. Perhaps the best thing. Sit down with them together and with each one separately from time to time and say those words that work a wonderful charm.

Tell me about the time...

(Even if they've told you a hundred times.)

What do you think...

(Even though you may already know.)

You know what I like about you? 

(They should be sitting for that one

 unless you've already made it a habit.)

Thank you, so much, for...

(They'll talk about that one together in bed at night.)

And, by the way, Grampa and Gramma. It doesn't hurt any for your grandkids to hear those things from you, too. Just sayin'.