Christmas Without Christ - Bruce Atchison

"Things Fall Apart" by Christie is a song you most likely won't hear blaring from shopping mall public address systems or on every radio station you tune in. It tells the story of a woman who feels jaded about all the manic holiday celebrations. She remembers how Christmas used to be a magical time but it's become one huge bore.

I think it's a shame that the wondrous birth of Christ is blotted out by all the secular celebrations. People get too drunk and talk too loudly, all the while thinking they're having a good time.

Even with Christians, the Christmas Eve service is only for an hour. Then everybody drinks apple cider and talks about everything else but the Messiah.

Most people don't realize that Christ's coming to our world was forecast from the beginning. When God pronounced judgement on Satan in Genesis 3:15 (King James Version), he said, "And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel."

In order for that to happen, Jesus had to be born. Isaiah 7:14 (KJV) reads, "Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel." That name means "God with us."

As we read in Luke's gospel, several people actually met the newborn Messiah and knew from God that salvation had come. Simon was one of those fortunate few. Luke 2:28-32 (Bible in Basic English) records, "Then he took him in his arms and gave praise to God and said, 'Now you are letting your servant go in peace, O Lord, as you have said; For my eyes have seen your salvation, Which you have made ready before the face of all nations; A light of revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel.'"

Anna was another fortunate person whom God blessed with the realization that the Messiah had come. Luke 2:38 (BBE) tells of her reaction after meeting the Christ child. "And coming up at that time, she gave praise to God, talking of him to all those who were waiting for the freeing of Jerusalem."

May we all do like Anna this year and always.

Day by Day by Sharon Espeseth

I am the Lord's servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.

Through my readings and in Father Johnny Rohit's recent homily, I've recognized more clearly how much Mary the Mother of Jesus is a role model for us in living Day by Day.










The angel came to Mary, saying, "Greetings, you who are highly favoured! The Lord is with you." She was perplexed and wondered what kind of greeting this was. "Do not be afraid, Mary;" the angel continued, "you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus." The angel told Mary how great Jesus would be and that he would be the Son of the Most High.

Mary asked only one question: how would she, being a virgin, bear a son. Other than that, she said, "I am the Lord's servant. May your word to me be fulfilled." (Luke 1:26-38)

Baby Jesus was born shortly after Mary and Joseph had arrived in Bethlehem where the innkeeper gave them a humble, quiet spot in a shelter for animals. Out on the hills with the shepherds, who were watching their sheep, the excitement was astounding. An angel appeared to them and announced great news. A Saviour, the long-awaited Messiah had been born in Bethlehem.

A host of angels was singing, "Glory to God" and announcing "peace on earth to those on whom (God's) favour rests." The shepherds hurried to the City of David to see Mary, Joseph and the Baby Jesus and they shared with them what the angels had told them about the child.

Mary treasured these things and pondered them in her heart.
Pixabay

Mary and Joseph quietly received the news and further explanation about their son. We don't hear Mary or Joseph asking, "How do you know all this? Why would God have told you before telling us that our son would be the Messiah. Instead, we read,"Mary treasured these things and pondered them in her heart."  (Luke 2:1-20)








Listening and pondering . . . I have much to learn about these aspects of my faith.

Today, we want to see around corners and get a clearer picture of how our lives will unfold. We plan and we try to make the future happen the way we think it should. Most of us like more input and control in how our lives unfold--so much so that we make goals before, or without, consulting God. Then we wonder why life doesn't turn out so well.

Mary and Joseph understand that God would take care of them if they but surrendered themselves to His will. When God told Joseph in a dream to take the mother and child to Egypt, Jesus' earthly father didn't ask questions. He obeyed.

The Holy Family's Flight to Egypt

At three score years and a generous decade, I'm reconsidering my goals in light of what God is showing me and/or not showing me. I remind myself to consult God's word, to pray and to listen to what He has to say on the subject of my would-be accomplishments.







I haven't always waited for his guidance. Maybe that's the reason my unfinished goals are sitting like cold pots on the back burner. Taking one day at a time, Mary surrendered her will to God the Father. I must strive to do likewise.

I have a couple writing projects hibernating. I will work on them, but I don't feel as anxious or driven about these plans as I used to be. May I, instead, offer each day to God. Along with the Psalmist, I pray, "Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom." (Psalm 90:12)

In our modern-day society, we all seem to need "to-do lists," appointments and dates on our calendars--or on our phones--for basic organization. Beyond that, I'm learning to be more flexible. Just as in financial planning, we may need a contingency plan for our goals.

Dealing with current health issues in our family, my writing and other plans can be pre-empted with short notice. These days, I refer to these wise words that are posted on our fridge:

"Peacefully do at each moment what ought to be done. If we do what each moment requires, we will eventually complete God's plan, whatever it is. We can trust God to take care of the master plan when we take care of the details.

                                                             

                                                                                     Saint Katherine Drexel               

Taking one day at a time, Mary surrendered her will to God the Father. I can learn from her.

Corrie ten Boom, who wrote and spoke about her World War II experiences, said she'd learned that it's better to ask God for His agenda and then she would sign off on it, rather than the other way around. She has also said,

When friends ask Hank and me how we are doing, I find myself answering that we are learning to live "day by day." Recently, I've found comfort in the beautiful hymn, "Day by Day," which I treasure as part of my Swedish heritage. Born out of personal tragedy in the drowning death of her father, Carolina Sandell Berg wrote the words of this song and many others.

Sandell Berg's lyrics, set to music by others, were influential in the revival that swept through Scandinavia in the 1850s. The faith of my grandparents later sprang from this great revival. In their youth, they brought their strong, Bible-based faith with them to Canada. I remember my grandfather reading the Bible and praying, in either English or Swedish, to a large crew around the old oak table.

I was not able to put the website here, but I'd love to share with you a lovely version of "Day by Day." You may find it by googling "YouTube-Day by Day sung by the Antrim Mennonite Choir."

Christmas Truth by Susan Barclay

Image from Pixabay

One of my most memorable Christmases reminds me a bit of the old television program, ‘To Tell the Truth’. The show featured a panel of celebrities who had to guess which of three contestants was telling the truth about his or her unusual career or life experience.

I was about five at the time. My four-year-old cousin, Donnie, and his family were visiting from New Jersey. His Dad wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. When Donnie and I were told to go to bed and go to sleep or Santa wouldn’t come, we did our best to comply. But the night was early and we were young. Besides, we were super-excited about what we might find under the tree the next morning, and sleep is impossible when you’re in such a state.

While the two of us lay side by side in my mother’s double bed, I practiced tying a bow in Raggedy Ann’s apron. Despite my mother’s efforts to teach me, I still hadn’t mastered the art.

My uncle passed by the open door and saw that we were still awake.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

"Trying to tie a bow,” I said, reasonably.

“Well, stop it and go to sleep,” he said. “Santa isn’t going to come as long as the two of you are still awake.”

I lay still, and Donnie did too. My uncle partially closed the bedroom door and couldn’t see that our eyes remained wide open. Quietly, I tried to make another bow. And just as I succeeded, we heard sleigh bells ringing outside the house.

Santa!

But no. Suddenly I knew the truth. It was my uncle ringing those bells.

Belief in Santa died that night, though a stronger realization came. My uncle was more complicated than I knew. Given black and white, I’d painted him black, but perhaps he was grayer. And now I also knew I was capable of doing things. Big things. Bigger even than tying a bow in a doll’s apron string.

When I look back, I can still see that little girl, lying under the covers in a darkened room on Christmas Eve. And I know that the event didn’t destroy the magic of Christmas for me. While I discerned the lie, I gained a larger truth. The holy day isn’t about Santa, or about the giving or receiving of gifts. Saint Nicholas would agree.

Christmas is about the Christ child and what He came for. He wanted us to know who we are and who we can become.
He wants the truth to set us free.

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This story was originally published on my friend Annmarie's blog in December 2013. For more of my writing, please visit www.susan-barclay.ca

Heaven's Delight! - Lynn Dove

My mother had a Danish expression for the feeling that surrounds us on Christmas Eve but for the life of me I couldn't remember how to spell the word, until my cousin from Denmark sent me the correct spelling.

"Hyggeaften"

I asked my mother once what the word meant but she just said, "English words can't describe it adequately."

 "Aften" means evening or night, but "Hygge" means: peaceful, calm, serene, homey, silent, glowing, harmonious, joyful, affable, warm, genial, sedate, placid, expectant, delightful, still, tranquil...well, I guess Mom was right...you can't pinpoint the words to adequately describe this danish word or the feelings "hygge" evokes.

Christmas Eve. "Hyggeaften"...the pictures from my childhood comfort me like a soft warm blanket. Picture a warm, crackling fire in the fire place. The soft glow of candlelight, the twinkling of lights on the Christmas tree. The warmth of a cup of cocoa. My cat, softly purring, curled up on my lap. Subdued sounds of Christmas carols playing in the background. My mother knitting beside me, my father smoking his pipe and silently watching the fire dance in the hearth. The feeling of safety and belonging and love. It's Christmas Eve.

It doesn't matter where I am in the world, Christmas Eve for me will always be "Hyggeaften". It's an emotion, more than a word. It is peace on earth, good will to all men and its origin began in Bethlehem when baby Jesus was born.

It is silent night. People then had no idea what was about to happen on that silent night. The sound of a baby's first cry would be no more astonishing to hear than a cow lowing or the mewling of a lamb, but the angels in heaven certainly knew the significance of that baby's arrival because they immediately appeared in the night sky and sang, to the shock and wonderment of their shepherd audience, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

This special event had been planned from the beginning of time, and the angels were finally able to proclaim that the Christ Child was born! Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace! Immanuel, God with us! Imagine the joy from heaven! At last, heaven's darling sent to dwell amongst us.

Joy to the World, the Lord has come! Let earth receive her King! Let every heart prepare Him room...let heaven and nature sing! Heaven's excitement, our delight!

But on a hill far away, there is a cross silhouetted against the night sky. The angels know it's part of God's plan, but still they sing, not in spite of it but because of it.

Come to Bethlehem and see, Christ Whose birth the angels sing; Come, adore on bended knee, Christ the Lord, the newborn King. Gloria, in excelsis Deo!

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Lynn Dove calls herself a Christ-follower, a wife, a mom, a grandmother, a teacher and a writer (in that order). She is the author of award winning books: The Wounded Trilogy.  Her blog, Journey Thoughts won a Canadian Christian Writing Award - 2011.  She has also had essays published in "Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith" and "Chicken Soup for the Soul - Parenthood" (March 2013).  Readers may connect with Lynn on Facebook, Twitter and on her blog: Journey Thoughts 


 

Jesus Understands - Ruth L. Snyder

For many years I have been conscious of people who are hurting at Christmas. This awareness was built in to me at a young age by parents who served as missionaries. Now that I have a family of my own, my husband and I often invite people over for Christmas dinner, donate money to the less fortunate, and spend time with the elderly.

In previous years, I heard about people who were grieving at Christmas. I tried to imagine what it would be like to celebrate Christmas knowing I would never see that special someone again. This Christmas I understand much better than I ever have before; this summer we said goodbye to my father-in-law who lost his battle with liver cancer. I am grateful for the many wonderful memories and godly influence of my father-in-law. I am still enjoying Christmas this year, but I'm focusing on different things.

Philippians 2:5-8 reminds us that although Jesus is God, he took on the form of man and became like us. Imagine! The King of the Universe humbled himself to be born in a dirty, stinky stable as a helpless baby. Hebrews 4:14,15 expresses similar thoughts. As the God-man Jesus was intimately acquainted with our weaknesses and temptations, our trials and hardships - yet without sin. He put on the clothes of humanity to demonstrate His love for us. Today Jesus is our High Priest, representing our needs to God.

This world causes us to groan and weep, but Jesus understands. And He not only understands, but He also walks with us, interceding for us before God the Father. This Christmas I am grieving, but not without hope. My father-in-law is celebrating his first Christmas in Heaven. Some day we will celebrate together again, and together we will worship Jesus. Until then, I will hold onto Jesus and rest in the fact He understands.

Ruth L. Snyder

Check out Ruth's blog on education matters at www.trusteesnyder.blogspot.com. Follow Ruth on Twitter @wwjdr

TINKLE AND CLANG — Lynda Schultz

A flurry of discordant sound announced the arrival of several sections of the bell choir.

“Move it, you three. You’re late and we haven’t got much time,” chimed the Bell Master from his place on the bottom rung of the carillon.

“Nag, nag, nag,” whispered the D flat to his buddy, C, as they climbed into their places on the top level. “What’s the hurry, anyway? Clang’s got his clapper in a knot for sure this morning.”

“Morning? It’s still dark outside,” protested the F major, breathlessly hauling himself up behind the others.

The smaller bells finally got themselves into place, just as Clang struck the note that indicated readiness and silence in the ranks. He looked around, carefully checking to make sure no one was missing. Worse than a faulty note was no note at all.

“Where’s Tinkle?” he boomed from his assigned spot.

Tinkle was the littlest bell of all. Her spot was high up at the top of the carillon.

Like an evil wind brushing through the tower, the rustle of the bells created dissonance as everyone looked around, hunting for Tinkle.

“I’m here sir. Just polishing, Bell Master.” Her clear, high sound rang out as Tinkle took her place at the apex of the musical arrangement.

“That girl takes herself too seriously. ‘Just polishing, Bell Master.’ As if fingerprints made any difference to anyone,” mimicked the D flat.

“You have something to share with us?” came Clang’s voice from down below.

Everyone froze. More than once Clang had said out loud that he wished they never had to have contact with their human counterparts—the evil always rubbed off a bit, like fingerprints on the burnished surface of a bell.

“Uhmmmmm, no sir. I was just, well, wondering what all the rush was about,” stuttered the offender. “It’s not even daylight yet.”

“Well, if—and I know keeping time for you doesn’t usually include knowing what day it is—you had been paying attention during rehearsals, you would have remembered that dawn today is the biggest moment of our year. Today we bring hope to the world.”

From somewhere in the middle of the bevy of bells came the dulcet tones of one of the G’s. “But, boss, do you really think anyone listens to us? It’s nasty out there. Everyone knows what happened to poor Liberty. Those humans are a mean lot and we don’t seem to be making much of an impact.”

There were a couple of chuckles from the group at G’s unintentional play on notes. The subdued merriment stopped as Clang’s clapper sounded for silence.

“I’ll admit that I sometimes have my doubts as to whether anyone gets our message, but that’s not the point. The point is that we have a message that we have been assigned to deliver, we’ve been practicing faithfully for this last year, and we are going to chime out that message no matter what. It’s up to the Master Musician to do the rest. So, are we ready? It’s almost time.”

The bell choir stirred, positioning themselves, clappers at the ready, all eyes on Clang.

“Tinkle?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Don’t forget, your part is critical. Sometimes people don’t hear the high notes, so you can’t hesitate or show weakness.”

“I won’t let you down, sir.”

Slowly the blackness outside the tower retreated before the insistence of the watery light of a winter sun. As it peeked above the horizon, Clang readied himself, gave the choir one last check, and nodded to Tinkle.

The high, light sound rang out loud and clear, followed by a rolling scale of melodious notes that reverberated across the awakening town.

Far below the tower, in the manse beside the church, a pastor looked up from his prayers. He had wrestled all night with his Christmas morning message. What could he say that would bring hope to a world where evil ruled man's heart, where even Christmas was banned with an “X”? How could he make sense of a world where, in the name of preserving peace, war was wrought?

He listened, remembered, and smiled. Hope was in God’s final note—which had yet to be played.

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And in despair I bowed my head/There is no peace on earth I said/For hate is strong and mocks the song/Of peace on earth, good will toward men/

Then peeled the bells more loud and sweet/God is not dead nor doth he sleep/ The wrong shall fail, the right prevail/Of peace on earth, good will toward men./ (from: “I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day”)