There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear …
1 John 4:18a
It’s ironic the two states Mom liked least were the two states we lived in the longest. The other side of that is she was also the most fulfilled.
Perhaps her biggest objection with New York — in addition to high costs and taxes — was how much little old Seneca County was like Boone County. Farming was the major industry. Roads suddenly disappeared into dirt paths. You had to travel miles to get anything (especially after we moved to Willard). What was done was more important than what could be done.
I don’t think Seneca County would have been on Mom’s short list for a career move, but she realized I had a chance to do something I wanted to do on my own terms. So she bought into the concept and vowed to help out wherever and however she could in our new publishing venture.
It all started in April 1994 when I started Between the Lakes … the hard way, from scratch. Within a few months, I merged with The Reveille, creating a new Reveille/Between the Lakes. I’ll leave successful for historians to figure out. Financially, it certainly wasn’t, but it did provide me an opportunity to do something I wanted the way I wanted. For the most part, it paid the bills, although most of the income went into retiring old debt and keeping current with printing, postage and other sundry costs. A businessman I am not.
I initially moved into a cottage on Cayuga Lake in February 1994 and Mom and I were separated — again. It was a short-lived separation, though . Nicolle moved up during the Easter break and Mom and Jonathan joined us on Peterman Road after school got out in May. Scott stayed in Maryland, then shortly thereafter migrated to Massachusetts to be closer to his sweetie and soon to be wife, Mandi.
Mom was a tremendous help at the paper … more than she ever realized. She was a whiz at organizing and keeping a scatterbrain like me on track. She could re-type a press release faster than anyone I know. She kept track of the invoicing, payments, circulation list and all the behind-the-scenes work.
It was frustrating for her as well, especially when “customers” were ready, willing and able to support the paper until we asked for advertising dollars. She would always explode when she saw a press release in our paper and an ad in the Shopper or Finger Lakes Times. I can still hear her chewing me out for “letting people walk over” me. It was a common mantra over the years.
She was also quick to point out this adventure was my dream, not hers. And in retrospect, she was right.
To be continued …
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Just don’t give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there is love and inspiration, I don’t think you can go wrong. — Ella Fitzgerald
) to share our work and I invited you to visit to see just what these incredible writers have contributed.
This week’s prompt was a bit tricky — PRESENT. The question in my mind was whether to pursue the word as a verb or noun. I chose the noun … and thoughts I previously shared.
So, the timer is set. Let’s GO …
While heaven is a present from God, we have to accept it. We have to unwrap the present.
Certainly some of us just tear into that package. Chards of paper go flying as we rip open the wrapping to reveal the present. Others are more deliberate, carefully unwrapping the box. It takes seemingly forever to separate the paper from the present.
That leads us to our second responsibility. What are we going to do with that present? Are we going to place it on a shelf and look at it from a distance? Or are we going to use it, enjoy it, share it?
You see, I think when we meet God face to face, He’s not going to ask us how much money we gave or how often we went to church or how we supported missions. He’s going to ask us two simple questions.
First, He is going to ask us if we believe in His Son.
I think everyone who passes themselves off as a Christian will correctly answer that question. You see, Jesus Christ — His Son — is the present. For God so loved … STOP
… the world that He gave His only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him may not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16). That’s the good news.
But I think there will be a second question. What did you do with that present?
It might be enough to get us into heaven just believing in Christ but if He is just a trophy sitting on a shelf to be seen only on Sundays and special occasions, do we really believe? Or are we fooling ourselves?
That’s why the second question is so important. We have to believe not only in Christ but in His power. And we have to use that power every day. And we have to share that power. And we have to allow Christ to shine through us in all we do and say.
Even Jesus did things … made choices … performed actions. He instructed the servants on what to do when He turned water into wine. He told the disciples to find the kid with the fish. He healed the sick. He raised people from the dead including. He took advantage of the circumstances at the time and used them for God’s good.
That’s what we’re called to do. Use the present. Make choices. Do something. Be observant. Keep the big picture in sight. Let the Light of the fire shine through. Take time to witness the little ordinary everyday miracles. Embrace the pure new snowfall. Watch spring spring. Enjoy the sunshine even on a cold, windy day. Hold a baby. Dance in the rain. Sing. Soak in life.
Each day, angels visit the footsteps of the faithful, leaving presents that quietly offer God’s grace, comfort and protection. All we have to do is recognize them and pick them up.
Some of us received the present at an early age. I, for example, accepted Christ as an early teen when I received the sacrament of Confirmation. It was then I reasoned, if I was talking the talk of following Jesus, I had to walk the walk as well. And even though I’ve strayed from the path from time to time, I’ve tried to make sure my way was synonymous with His way. Others come to Christ later in life, an epiphany, an “ah hah” moment. They tend to be passionate about their faith. I call them Paul Christians, turning their back on their past on their own road to Damascus and using the present to move forward.
Others, unfortunately, are still waiting. Some may be working on the wrapping. Others may be working on other presents — self, idols, control, anger, impurity, evil desires, greed.
It’s up to us seasoned and newbie Christians to let the power of Christ shine through for them, not by telling them but by showing them. You can’t preach or prod or persuade or nag them to salvation, but you can show them salvation. You can be the example. You can be the spark. You can be the conduit God uses to present His present to another soul.
Don’t leave your Jesus in the pew. Bring Him home with you so others can see why Jesus — complex and complicated, simple and uncomplicated — is such a valued present.
Don’t wait until you’re sorta, kinda dead to realize the importance of the present we’ve been given. Let the Light shine through us while we’re very much alive.
What are you doing with the present of Jesus Christ?
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand — and melting like a snowflake. — Francis Bacon Sr.
The accident was also the beginning of the end of my time in Washington. Cardinal James Hickey had personally called me and asked me to come to Washington, but after I got there, he suddenly became less accessible. I had to go through his secretary. I was never sure whether comments being made by Msgr. Lori were the cardinal’s thoughts or Lori’s interpretation. I don’t play politics very well.
At any rate, I had been pushing for a one-on-one with the cardinal. About a week or so after Scott’s accident – and after I wrote about angels watching over us in my column in the Catholic Standard – I finally got my time with the cardinal. Of course, the monsignor was there as well. Throughout that entire hour or so, not one mention was made of the accident. Not a “How is he doing?” “Is he okay?”
It was then I realized how little family meant to them. Family is my life, not work. My relationship with my family is more important than my relationship with the archdiocese or any job. I remember leaving that meeting by flippantly saying, “By the way, my son Scott is doing fine. He’s a little shaken and sore, but OK. Thanks for asking.”
It wasn’t long after that when the cardinal decided to go in a different direction. That was a blow to my ego (I sent out hundreds of resumes), but it also gave me peace. Washington was not where I wanted to finish raising my family … even if it meant leaving another child behind.
Which is a good place to transition to New York, New York …
To be continued…
THOUGH TO REMEMBER: The only thing that stands between a man and what he wants from life is often merely the will to try it and the faith to believe it is possible. — Richard M. DeVos
It’s Friday — okay, Saturday — so it’s time for this week’s installment of Five Minute Friday. The exercise joins over 100 writers around the world, all transforming their thoughts into words on a specific prompt word for just five minutes {more or less}, then sharing our collective thoughts at Kate’s place (
This week’s prompt is TIME. The timer is set for five minutes, so let’s GO …
If I could keep time in a bottle …
No, that’s not the direction I’m going. It’s more reflective.
We’re all allotted just so much time for individual tasks, relationships and our own existence. That’s why it is so important to stuff each of those seconds with as much quality time as is humanly possible.
I mean, even our exercise is just a mere 300 seconds. It sound more than five minutes — 300 over five — but it’s exactly the same. We can stretch that time {it feels like I’m doing that now} but it remains the same.
Our lives seem to accelerate as we age. When we’re kids, it seems like forever from one birthday to the next. By midlife we start realizing time is speeding up. By the time you reach my age, you can’t believe how fast the time went by. It was only yesterday …
I’m 68 years, four months, … STOP
27 days old — or 24,986 days, 3,569.428571428 weeks. That’s 35,979,840 minutes or 2,158,790,400 seconds — give or take. It sounds like an eternity, but it’s just a speck in time for real eternity.
I often wonder whether I took advantage of all that time. Probably not. But as the remaining sand flows through the hourglass, I shall at least try.
That’s it for this week. Check out Kate’s place to see what others thought about time.
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Maybe it’s time for you to step out of the false security of a nice Christian environment. You need a Christian in-vironment. You need Christ in you, not around you. — Ron Hutchcraft
So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up … Galatians 6:9
Being in Washington gave us the opportunity to be with some powerful people, but Mom was always more comfortable in the background. We went to the Cardinals Dinner with all the top hierarchy in the country. We went to Mass at St. Matthew Cathedral with Presidents George H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton and other top governmental officials. We met many other “power brokers” in both church and state.
But those pale in comparison to just being together at a Pavoratti concert or Neal Diamond’s Christmas show or walking along a snowy sidewalk in Reston, VA, during the Christmas season with hot chocolate, the smell of roasting chestnuts and the ambiance of the season.
We lost Great Grandma Siccardi and Aunt Marie while we were in Washington, two women Mom greatly admired. She remembered Great-Grandma for her famous “Mange! Mange!” and her warmth at accepting Mom fully into the family. Mom thought she was an amazing woman. It was her strength and will that stand out most. She virtually raised her family alone after Great-Grandpa was injured in World War I. Mom commented she never heard Great-Grandma complain about the “raw deal,” but rather saw her live her faith.
Aunt Marie was also very special to Mom and she took her death very hard. Mom thought of Aunt Marie often throughout the years, especially when she saw a pink streak across the twilight sky at dawn or dusk.
Scott got through high school and we enjoyed quiet evenings watching Rocky marathons. And then there was the call …
Scott was in an accident. He flipped my Hyundai and came thisclose to having a post penetrate the sunroof glass. He impacted literally just inches from the glass. Of course, I immediately went to the scene and called Mom to let her know Scott was shaken but alright. Little did I know I never disconnected the call, so she heard every detail of the crash and how we just sat there and talked about faith and how God was protecting him. She told me how my words were a comfort to her, especially not being there herself.
Yes, God was certainly there that night … but I really do miss that car!
To be continued …
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: There are no secrets to success. It is the result of preparation, hard work, learning from failure. — Colin Powell
Thought I would share my words from the pulpit at West Fayette Presbyterian Church this morning.
And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ … Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should. Colossians 4:3-4
I am going to tap into Ron Hutchcraft and his messages this week. Ron is part of my daily devotional routine mainly because he is not a preacher, but rather he is a teacher. His words from Scripture are translated from King James or NIV-ese into everyday language I can not only understand but relate to. His stories make me think on the message … and that’s what I’ll be attempting this morning.
The other day, he led off with a story.
Jennifer and Courtney were three year old twins and they were excited about preschool. In fact, they were so excited they got up in the middle of the night in their Omaha, NE, home and walked out of the house to make the six-block walk to school. All this while, their parents were sound asleep.
You might say, “Oh, isn’t that cute?”
No! See, snow was everywhere that night and the temperature was nine below zero. The girls were reported missing at 4:04 a.m. after family members awoke to find a light on and the door open.
Two police officers started driving the route to school, hoping they’d find the girls before it was too late. At one point, however, their squad car was stopped by the ice on a steep hill.
They were stopped right in front of an alley, so they decided to investigate. And there they found these little foot prints, then three tan boots no bigger than the palm of the officer’s hand. And finally they found barefoot Courtney wearing an open coat and kneeling beside her sister Jennifer, who was face down in the snow wearing socks but no coat.
Even though Jennifer was near death when they found her, both the girls miraculously survived. If someone hadn’t come looking for them though, they would have died.
Two little girls were lost and dying, and they wouldn’t have made it back home themselves. Their only hope was for someone to look for them and find them.
It’s always that way for someone who’s lost, including you and I. See, lost is actually a word in the Bible that’s used to describe our spiritual condition. It’s because, as the Bible says, Each of us has wandered away from God like sheep.
We’re lost. We’re away and ultimately dying. If you’re honest with yourself right now, maybe the word lost pretty much describes how you’re feeling.
Jesus came to seek and to save those who are lost. Jesus is God come looking for you — a lost child He loves very much. Notice He did exactly what those police officers did for those lost little girls — seeking/saving.
Here’s the simple fact. You cannot find God. God has to find you, and that’s pretty radical. It means all our religious efforts to get to God, all our self-improvement will not get us home to a God whose standard is perfection. A lost child doesn’t find himself. He or she gets found by the rescuer. All our spirituality, all our ceremonies, all our services, all our attempts to complete ourselves by finding God through spiritual searching or exercises still leave us lost.
We are those little girls, hopelessly lost, face down in the snow about to die spiritually. And Jesus is that policeman coming to where we are to rescue us.
That was the message of Christmas. That was the message of Epiphany. That is the message of salvation.
But, who is this Jesus? What do we know about Him?
That’s the discussion today. The Bible only gives one account of Jesus between birth and adulthood — Jesus at age 12 in the Temple, in one brief scene. It is left to our imaginations to picture Jesus at age seven, or 16, or 25.
See, back in Jesus’ day, not many people knew Him. He was a carpenter’s son, just a kid from Nazareth. In fact, while the Judeans were looking for a Messiah … they were looking in all the wrong places and for the wrong person. Don’t we do that as well, seeking God through our own reasoning or because a preacher has a gift or we heard it from a friend of a friend of a friend?
Many thought John the baptizer was the Messiah. That’s why they flocked to him to be washed pure by water. But John knew he was just a supporting actor in the salvation story.
“I baptize you with water. But One who is more powerful than I will come, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire…” stated John — pointing his followers toward Jesus.
In today’s gospel, we’re told Jesus came to be baptized. Luke, Mark and Matthew also all relate the story and it marks the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry.
One of the questions theologians like to ask over cocktails is why Jesus was even baptized. I mean, after all, if John the baptizer was urging people to be baptized as an act of repentance, if he meant people to come to him to receive a symbol of forgiveness for sins – why was Jesus there? Why did Jesus need to be baptized at all? Surely Jesus didn’t need repentance or forgiveness, right?
Well, let’s go back to the catechism or Sunday school. Our tradition considers baptism a sacrament. What is a sacrament?
That’s right, an outward sign of an inward grace.
… as He [Jesus] was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended on Him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are My Son, whom I love; with You I am well pleased.”
Talk about an outward sign! Talk about God’s grace!
Baptism is primarily a symbol of what God is doing for us, not what we are doing for God. As such, this understanding of baptism as a symbol of God’s grace helps answer our questions about why Jesus comes here to see John to be baptized. Obviously, He doesn’t need to repent in the same way we do, but “to repent,” in its literal meaning, means to turn around, to turn back, to go a new direction – God’s direction.
Jesus’ baptism was also a change in direction for Him. He begins His ministry of preaching and teaching. See, before He calls disciples, before He reads from the scroll in the temple, before the crowds start following Him, He comes to be baptized as He shifts his identity from Jesus, child of Mary and Joseph, to Jesus, Son of Man and Son of God.
I think Jesus, like the crowds, was filled with expectation and anticipation. He was about to make a huge change in His life. His baptism represents this beginning, and Jesus Himself seems to see it as the starting point. He’s about to do a lot of wonderful things. But He hasn’t begun yet. See, these words from God the Father don’t come at the end of Jesus’ journey. They don’t come during Jesus’ arrest or trial or crucifixion. They come at the beginning. At the start.
Our baptism similarly was a symbol, a sign, a reminder, a way God spoke to us and said, “You are My child, My beloved, with you I am well-pleased.”
We have an opportunity to remember, through today’s lesson, the love God has for us. You have an opportunity to remind yourself you are God’s child and He pours grace upon grace out into your life and into your heart. You have an opportunity to commit yourself again to God’s plan for your life. You have an opportunity for a new beginning, a change of direction, a parting of the heavens as God smiles upon you to remind you that you are Beloved.
When Jesus came to be baptized by his cousin, though He may not have come to repent, He was certainly coming to mark a change in direction — a beginning. He was setting into motion a course of action for His life where there would be no turning back.
Rather, it was a turning to. In those three short years, Jesus reached out to those hurting, to those marginalized, to those with the simple faith of a child. He was reaching out to me. He was reaching out to you.
The very name Jesus means “the Lord saves” — that’s “save” as in rescuers saving Jennifer and Courtney and Joe and each of you. He came and gave His life to rescue ours. He went through the “crushing agony of Golgotha” for us. And He exited the tomb to prove it.
But every day, we are with people who don’t know that. See, following Jesus means living to join Him in His rescue mission to save them.
Jesus came to rescue us. Now it’s time to pay it forward.
We’re back. The Five Minute Friday band returns for another year under the guidance of Kate Motaugn after a couple week holiday hiatus. Okay, I’m back my usual day late, but hey, I’m back!
Five Minute Friday is a discipline where independent writers join together to transform thoughts on a specific prompt word from their minds through their fingers onto the screen for five minutes. Then we get together and share our pearls of wisdom {okay, some times they’re swine, but the intention is always good} at Kate’s place (http://katemotaung.com/2016/01/07/five-minute-friday-first-plus-special-deals-a-giveaway/).
Appropriately, the first word of 2016 is FIRST. The timer is set, so we’re ready to GO…
We all remember the firsts in our lives.
Our first real best friend …
Our first crush and/or girl/boy friend …
Our first date …
Our first kiss …
Our first car …
The first movie we saw …
The true love of our life and all the firsts that go along with it…
Our first job …
The first story you wrote {okay, that’s more for the journalists among us}…
Our first apartment …
Our first house …
The birth of your first child …
You get the picture.
But, do you remember the first time you talked to God? Not as a prayer, but as a conversation?
I do. It was the day of my confirmation away back in the late 50s. That conversation set the tone for my life. It gave me Someone to talk to no matter what … the good times {not as often} and especially the rough times {maybe too much}.
As we go through life, we hold onto those “first” memories. We can never re-create them … STOP
… but we can savor them. Memories of our “firsts” will never be taken away from us. They are etched in us as much as our DNA. They become the stepping stones upon which we build our lives. They are the reference point — good or bad — that season our future decisions.
That’s true with that first step of talking with God as well. It evolves into a never-ending relationship. We can — and should — be able to re-create that first conversation at any moment of any given day. The dialogue may be different, but the intensity of that first connection is readily available.
Time to go. I have a special Friend waiting to talk with me.
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Stop telling God how big your storm is. Instead, tell the storm how big your God is!
So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up … Galatians 6:9
Our life in Maryland started badly when I rented the townhouse in Laurel without Mom seeing it. We were in agreement about it, but she actually never saw the townhouse before I signed the lease. In my spatially-deficient mind, I didn’t think our bedroom set would fit in the master bedroom and, given that information, Mom reluctantly sold it in Ohio … only to discover it would have fit. And so, another piece of our history was left behind.
Mom got a job at a non-profit adoption agency strictly on her resume, a phone interview and glowing recommendations from Dr. Wiley and Dr. Martin. But even that didn’t go smoothly. We had to juggle packing and moving dates, bringing us in on the 19th [of June] with our belongings on the 22nd or 23rd. “I was supposed to start on the 18th!” Mom wrote. Of course, she panicked but her new boss, Bill Pierce, called and when Mom explained what was going on, he assured her the job would be there when she got there. “That was a huge weight off my shoulders,” she wrote.
Her last entry in Ohio was, “Good byes are rough and when you’re saying them to your daughter and 10-month old grandson it’s unbearable.”
We finally got on the road at 10:30. At 11 the water pump on her car went and, of course, no one at Hyundai had a part. Another delay … Another – perhaps ominous – chapter in the transition to Washington.
Don’t get me wrong, the townhouse was nice – perhaps a bit too modern for Mom’s taste – and in a nice suburban setting in Howard County. Our rent was more than our mortgage. Mom certainly made the best of it, giving the house her own personality … but I don’t think she ever bought into it as “home.”
We weren’t there in this quiet development more than a couple of weeks when a woman was killed when her car was carjacked just a cul-de-sac away. She reached in to grab her baby and was dragged for about a mile. The incident actually, I believe, was the first time the word “carjack” was used. And we were worried about the crime in DC!
Mom didn’t particularly like her job. After reorganizing the office, she would come home and complain there wasn’t much to do. The office was in an old brownstone. Her office was on the second floor, but all the printers and copiers were on the first floor.
One day, I picked her up for lunch. As we sat there eating Chinese, she again was complaining about the job. I told her if she wasn’t happy, look for something else.
In an uncharacteristic way, that’s exactly what Mom did. She came home from work that night and informed me she had given her notice … the spur of the moment … without another job prospect. I don’t know if I was proud of her or scared she really did take notice of my spontaneity over the years.
By happenstance, she discovered the job at Trinity Missions. I don’t remember how it happened, but I think I mentioned she was looking for a job and someone at the chancery told me about it. I told Mom and she ran with it.
It was a good fit for her. Her analytical mind and organizational skills drove Fr. Dennis and Fr. Steve crazy, of course, but she was a good support system for the Vocations Department. She had a knack for following up and the personality to draw potential candidates into the process.
Fr. Dennis was on the road a lot, but Fr. Steve was in the office. He nicknamed her “Grizelda” and became a close family friend. In fact, he was part of one of the milestones of our life together … our Silver Anniversary. He officiated at a renewal of our vows and was surprised to be custodian of two rings – one from each of us to be given to the other. Both of us made him promise not to spoil the surprise, since neither of us knew what the other was giving.
Thinking back, that was so typical of Mom and me. We didn’t have to “discuss” things … we knew each other so well we knew what made each other tick. We were always on the same page – maybe with a different translation, but always on the same page.
To be continued …
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Prayer doesn’t need hours of time with lots of words. Pray now from the heart for whatever is foremost in your mind.
And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ … Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should. Colossians 4:3-4
I heard a story this Christmas story. I haven’t been able to verify its veracity. But, apparently, in one family at least, along with the sheep, cow and donkey, a home nativity scene now has a new animal. A plump little teddy bear sits in the hay paying tribute to Baby Jesus. The children will tell you this addition is quite scriptural.
As a beginning reader, Billy was thrilled to be able to read the Christmas story from the Bible for the family advent devotions. Although the verses did not flow from one line to another, his parents enjoyed listening to him read. One night Billy read: “Behold, a vir… virgin shall be with child and bear …”
“A bear?” three year old Nancy interrupted.
“We don’t have a bear in our manger,” five year old Timmy said.
“Here, use mine,” offered Nancy, as she plopped her soft stuffed bear in the middle of the scene.
Then Billy continued to read “… a son, and they shall call His name Immmmman uel.”
Well, we made it through Christmas. This is already the second Sunday after Christmas. It’s hardly more than a week since we were celebrating, opening gifts and eating a huge Christmas dinner.
What is left of the Christmas celebration?
A trash bag full of used wrapping paper and empty boxes. The Christmas tree and all the decorations either have been taken down and stored in the attic for another year or shortly will. Christmas is over and our lives have returned to normal. It is back to work for the adults and back to school for the children. Yes, Christmas is over — at least for another year.
Wait! Is it really over? Is that all there is to Christmas? Is it just a time for parties, giving gifts to friends and family, and a brief period of “Peace on earth, good will toward men?”
Surely there is more to it than that.
Our readings today reveal the true meaning of Christmas. The Bible says, The Word became flesh and came to live among us. The “Word” the Bible is talking about is Jesus. He came, full of unfailing love, and we have seen His glory. We have seen the glory of God’s only begotten Son.
Sadly, Jesus came to the world, but many did not recognize Him. For those who do not know the Savior, Christmas is over. But for those of us who received the gift of the Father, Christmas goes on all year long.
And that’s what I want to address this morning.
The most important gift any of us received was Jesus who came to earth as a gift from God. To those who receive Him and believe in His Name, He gave the right to become the children of God. He became a brother. He became a genealogical link to the Father.
Maybe we didn’t see that this past Christmas season. And liturgically, it’s our own fault.
The “Christmas” season — the Child in the manger, our Brother — is liturgically compressed to 12 days. It liturgically concludes in just three days, Wednesday (Jan. 6), with the celebration of Epiphany, which celebrates the visit of the three wise men to the Christ Child.
Sure, we had the four Sundays of Advent — a time for preparation for the big arrival. If you’re like most of us, except for the lighting of a candle on Sunday morning and maybe flipping a page on our Advent calendar, our preparation consisted of shopping, baking, running around, cooking, dealing with the stresses and realities of shorter daylight and life in overdrive. By the time Christmas morning rolled around, we wished we were snuggled in the hay with the Baby Jesus.
Christmas barely gets a week of our attention before it is lost in the shuffle of resolutions and bills and all the rest. But these verses remind us Christmas isn’t just a season, it’s a way of life. Christmas isn’t over when we reach Epiphany, it is only newly launched once again. While the season may pass, the hope and life it promises are just beginning.
Christmas reminds us of God’s decision to become one of us and bridge the gap from our mortal life so we might enjoy God’s eternal life. This is not merely a season or celebration, it is a promise that requires our active participation every day of the year.
Earlier — in verse seven — John says he came as a witness (marturioν) to testify (marturhsη). Both have the same root, with just a slight variation in the last syllable. He used it again in verse 8.
That multiple use of the same word brings us to an uncomfortable thought. How far are we willing to go to testify, to witness, to point, to be a martyr?
Our take from Christmas is those immersed in the story could enjoy Christmas, despite their circumstances. So can you.
If Mary and Joseph could find room in the midst of their confusion, questions and hardships, you can too. It may not be easy, and it will involve sacrifice. It may mean forgetting what other people think and letting go of some of your dreams, but if you want to experience Christmas, they — Mary and Joseph — would tell you it’s worth it all.
If these shepherds could decide to seek the Lord in Bethlehem, you can commit yourself to seeking Him in His Word, in prayer, in doing His will. You can make it your goal in life to look for God’s will and do God’s will in every area of your life.
If the Wise Men could crown Jesus King in the manger, you can crown Him King in your life. You probably don’t have gold, frankincense or myrrh to lay before Him, but what you do have, you can give. You can surrender your life to Christ wholeheartedly.
We all have blind spots. We may think and believe what we see and what we know is right and true and correct, yet, John confronts us all with the fact the world, 2,000 plus years ago, saw Jesus, but did not know Him. Isn’t it true we can live most of our lives without seeing and knowing Christ?
There are those who approach Jesus from a purely scientific and rational worldview. They examine His birth, life, teachings and death from an analytical viewpoint, as if they were putting them all under the microscope. That may give them a lot of detailed information about Jesus from which they can draw their conclusions based on “the objective scientific facts” they were able to verify and accept.
But,do we really see and know Jesus if we approach Him only from a pure, scientific worldview?
The information about Him may enlighten us and help us in many respects, but I don’t think we completely see and know Jesus only from this sort of approach. When all is said and done, it is relationship that ultimately matters.
How much value do we place on our relationships with one another? Why not with God in the person of Jesus?
John is theologically quite profound, speaking of the Eternal Word with God existing before the world was created and intricately involved in the creation process.
Yet, John is also very simple. He tells us, in the language of love and intimacy, it is God’s only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made Him known. In other words, John says, if you want to see and know who and what God is like, look at Jesus! Whenever you look at Jesus you come to know and see God … Jesus the baby in the manger … Jesus the man from Nazareth … Jesus the prophet, preacher, teacher and healer … Jesus the friend of sinners … Jesus the suffering and risen Savior.
So, today we are invited to ponder anew what value we place on our relationships with God and with one another. How are we doing in our relationships? Do we avoid and resist or do we welcome and willingly participate in the love, support and intimacy of relationships with Jesus and one another?
The meaning and joy of Christmas is valuing most of all the precious gift of our relationships with Jesus and one another. Such relationships help us to truly see and know Jesus whenever and wherever He comes to us.
Our reading — no, the gospel of John in toto — follows a sequence of “Tell and Show.” Today, John tells us who Jesus is … the Word made flesh, the light of the world, the revealer of the heart of God. In the rest of the gospel, John shows us Jesus in action, interacting with troubled people, performing healings and teaching truth. Jesus our Teacher and Savior speaks the words that will lead us into truth. He enters into conversation and relationship with troubled people bringing them an offer of new birth, light, healing, a way, living water, the guidance of a good shepherd and the Bread of Heaven. He is, in the end, willing to lay down His life for His friends.
Strengthened by His presence, we can bring His wisdom and unselfish love to others.
Now is the time to experience Christmas more powerfully and wonderfully than you ever have before if you are willing to make room for Him, bow before Him and seek Him with all your heart. Christmas isn’t Dec. 25. It’s the day you experience the message of Christmas.
God loves you… and that’s about it.
I hope you join me is proclaiming, It’s beginning to look a lot like … Christmas … the real Christmas. And the faithful said … Amen,
For those of you who came to our Advent celebration at West Fayette Presbyterian Church, you heard Rev. Leah Ntuala of Seneca Falls Presbyterian Church sing Howard Thurman’s wonderful poem The Work of Christmas. I couldn’t convince her to sing a version for us, but I did find one to accompany us. The words follow. I think they may be an appropriate accompaniment to our lesson today.
When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart.
When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins.
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Prayer doesn’t need hours of time with lots of words. Pray now from the heart for whatever is foremost in your mind.
It’s just about time to wrap up my latest respite in Maine. I accomplished most of what I wanted — nothing and not much. Seriously, I did accomplish just about everything I intended to accomplish.
And I found out a lot more about the Maine landscape, Dover-Foxcroft in general , my new friends and fellow apartment dwellers at The Mill and life in transition.
I haven’t seen Maine’s winter fury yet. Most of the time — especially pre-Christmas — temperatures hovered well above freezing. But the river did freeze after Christmas, and there were back-to-back storms of four and eight inches that blanketed the countryside.
I actually didn’t venture out a lot. Once the car from New York was parked, it pretty much stayed in place. But the joy was an invitation to a Sunday dinner with neighbors Heidi, Bill, Gus, Stephanie and Liza. It was so unexpected to get the invitation for a turkey dinner with all the trimmings, hot cider and just some good old-fashioned talk around the table and the Christmas tree. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Not only was it an enjoyable evening,but it spared me the heartache of the Packers’ second half performance against the Cardinals.
I met another neighbor and her pup, Lynnette. I had a nice conversation about how we ended here at The Mill. Unfortunately, she lost her husband in late November. I could sense the fresh scars. Please keep her wrapped in your prayers.
I also had a nice visit with my immediate neighbors, Kathleen and Jack. Once again, I locked myself out of the apartment — keys? what are they for? — along with my phone and car keys. They were kind enough to call our super, Dave,who — once again — bailed me out. While I was waiting, Kathleen, Jack and I had a nice visit.
Each visit brings me closer and closer to the community.
And, of course, there is the transition. I thought I had the basics covered, yet I had to buy a saucepan (how many do I have in New York?), a knife that actually cuts, a wine glass and corkscrew. It’s hard to get wine out of the bottle and into the glass without one.
Most of the time I listened to Pandora — nothing really worth watching on basic cable — but I did manage to go to the Center Theatre for a double bill of Miracle on 34th Street (original, colorized) and Spectre. I watched a couple of flicks from my DVD stash (Christmas Vacation, The Preacher’s Wife, It’s a Wonderful Life, Up Close and Personal) and from Roku and Amazon Prime (Christmas Child, A Christmas To Remember, Dr. No, Goldfinger, Interstellar, If I Stay, God’s Not Dead, Serendipity and the most stupid film I’ve ever seen [okay, at least recently] The Wolf of Wall Street).
By the way, one of reasons I’m leaving now is because I’ll be in the pulpit for the next two Sundays at West Fayette Presbyterian Church. A prayer or two would be welcomed.
All in all, I was happy I came for the holidays.I needed the “me” time … and it gave me a good preview of what life will be like when the move becomes permanent.
Which, alas and alack, brings me to the point of saying adieu to Maine for this trip. I plan on returning, but not until later in January. {sad face}
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Being good to people is better than preaching a sermon. Being kind, generous, compassionate speaks much louder than any words. — Joel Osteen
Perhaps her biggest objection with New York — in addition to high costs and taxes — was how much little old Seneca County was like Boone County. Farming was the major industry. Roads suddenly disappeared into dirt paths. You had to travel miles to get anything (especially after we moved to Willard). What was done was more important than what could be done.
It all started in April 1994 when I started Between the Lakes … the hard way, from scratch. Within a few months, I merged with The Reveille, creating a new Reveille/Between the Lakes. I’ll leave successful for historians to figure out. Financially, it certainly wasn’t, but it did provide me an opportunity to do something I wanted the way I wanted. For the most part, it paid the bills, although most of the income went into retiring old debt and keeping current with printing, postage and other sundry costs. A businessman I am not.
Mom was a tremendous help at the paper … more than she ever realized. She was a whiz at organizing and keeping a scatterbrain like me on track. She could re-type a press release faster than anyone I know. She kept track of the invoicing, payments, circulation list and all the behind-the-scenes work.
The Light 