Playful Magus

In the telling of the Nativity story as we usually know it, there is always a continuity problem. The different Gospels told the story differently (Mark doesn't tell it all!). The Magi occur only in Matthew and they find Jesus in a house, not a stable. But that doesn't mean that the story doesn't still tell us a great truth. Among the points of the story of the coming of the Magi is that the non-Jewish world came to recognize and worship God's greatest gift to humanity. They did so by bringing precious gifts.

Yesterday at the living Nativity at Overlook Farm, one Magus (the singular of Magi) tried his best to amuse a distinctly fussy Jesus. Baby Jesus at the 5:00 performance was played by a 15 month-old who very much wanted to get down and move around. Personally, I like the image of a restless Baby Jesus--so much to do and so little time! But Pat Zepp, who was a Magus bearing gold did what any of us would do and tried to entertain the baby with his gift of gold. The baby, as all babies are, was precious; the gold, naturally, was precious; and Pat's playful attempt to quiet a fussy baby was precious. I smiled at the sight. I imagined how many Christmas Pageants since St. Francis' original living Nativity in 1213 have had similarly amusing scenes (Isaiah scattering the ducks at the same performance is another in that long line!) But more enjoyable still was the thought of the original Magi playing peek-a-boo and making funny faces at the infant in Mary's arms. The heart of the Christmas message is the sheer humanity of it. That is the nature and great extent of God's love for you and me.

Seeing a Great Light

There were so many interesting things that happened today that I will need a few days to post them all. I saw The Chronicles of Narnia tonight, I heard that the last survivor of the 1914 Christmas Truce died this year, and I attended the living nativity at Heifer Project's Overlook Farm today. It is the latter where I will go for today's post.

When I arrived, I was immediately approached by Ellen Zepp and asked to be an Old Testament prophet! Well, how could I turn down the role of a lifetime?!? Much to the relief or Mike Zepp (who had been dragooned into the role moments before) I said "yes, I would be Isaiah for a day."

It is no real stretch for me to read scripture, especially the words of a prophet. The prophets spent a good deal of time telling Israelites where they had gone wrong. I spend a good deal of my time reflecting on contemporary parallels. But Isaiah spoke to the Israelites when they were captive in Babylon, and he spoke of hope. Behold, God is doing a new thing...they would be going home! This prophecy was full of hope, "the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. For unto us is born a child, unto us a son is given. And the government shall be upon his shoulder. And his name shall be called wonderful counsellor, everlasting father, the prince of peace."

What a happy job it is to declare this news, even if it is to the people who continue to walk in darkness. It is hard to believe that a wonderful counsellor who is the prince of peace is coming into this bleak and war torn world. Harder still is it to believe that this messiah has already come. Darkness is powerful, stealing sight from us. Let us not also let it steal hope!

Let It Snow

I don't ski, I don't own a snowmobile or snowshoes, I haven't gone sledding in years, but I love snow. I love the beauty of it. I actually like the fact that it forces me to get outside and get some exercise shovelling it. I also love the way that is slows down the world. A good snow storm becomes an incidental sabbath.

Today, I dug out and headed to the church to meet someone who needed help getting to Boston for medical treatment. Since I was out, I also took the time to visit someone who is receiving hospice care and will be moving to a nursing home next week. Earlier in the week I visited with someone who is facing her first Christmas after the death of her husband. While others complain about the hustle and bustle of the season, I see a season of things slowing down and getting to what matters. Something about the stillness of a landscape covered in snow reminds me of gift of presence. Christmas celebrates God choosing to be present with us in human form; and the greatest gift we can offer to another is our presence. The best part of the present of presence is the fact that giver receives as much as the recipient.

I hope that today's snow slowed you down enough to know the presence of God in your life. Maybe you were even blessed by being present with someone who simply valued you being there. If not tomorrow presents another chance to be present.

Things are Relative

This morning I heard on the radio that it was 9 below zero at Saranac Lake, New York. I also heard that it was 18 degrees in Worcester. So as cold as it was today, it could have been a lot colder. And just think about how much warmer 27 degrees feels when it is 50 in one place but 77 in another!

I donated platelets today. The process is called pheresis and involves a typical blood donation needle in one arm and an IV in the other. The larger needle never bothers me, but the IV can give me trouble since my veins tend to roll when they try to insert it. That happened again today, so they had to change arms and stick me a second time. Trust me, that is not fun. BUT, I felt that I had no room to complain because my little bit of pain resulted in two units of platelets that very well may mean that someone (or maybe more than one) will not die. That is not overstating the case, blood is truly the gift of life. Things are definitely relative, my pain was completely insignificant in comparison to the pain of the person who needs my platelets.

I remember the story a mother of a child I knew who needed platelets to live told me. She said that they sometimes would be en route to the hospital for a transfusion and get a call saying that they need not come in because there were no platelets. One time she need a transfusion Christmas week...and there were platelets available! Someone took time out of the hustle and bustle to give a gift that saved a life.

Donating today may not make me a hero, but it sure made me feel good. So good that I'm going to do it again before Christmas. I would love to also give the gift of a referral. Perhaps you would be willing to try pheresis, check it out here.

The Elusive Yet Holy Core

In looking up the reference to yesterday's post on the NPR site, I was drawn to a This I Believe essay by Penn Jillette (the vocal half of the Penn and Teller magic duo) entitled, There Is No God. While I obviously don't agree with his conclusion, I found little to argue with his essay. You can read it for yourself here. He points out a number of misuses and abuses of a belief in the divine. I was particularly saddened by the ring of familiarity in this statement:

I don't travel in circles where people say, "I have faith, I believe this in my heart and nothing you can say or do can shake my faith." That's just a long-winded religious way to say, "shut up," or another two words that the FCC likes less. But all obscenity is less insulting than, "How I was brought up and my imaginary friend means more to me than anything you can ever say or do."

A really difficult, yet incredibly valuable, gift you can give yourself this Advent is to explore your belief in the exisitence of God. Is your belief similar to the one Penn Jillette describes? If so, perhaps you need to explore the less familiar and more frightening waters of belief in a living God, who is indeed still speaking, and thus might say something new that could shake up your former way of thinking. You see, I believe in a God that big. I disagree with Penn, looking for the divine is not asking more of the invisible, it is admitting that there is an invisible, and that invisible force is a compassionate being.

There are other wonderful essays linked on the page of that essay that you might also want to explore. I particularly liked the one by Kathy Dahlen describing how her faith was bolstered by her observing an autopsy. She describes how she discovered that there is more than the physical to this world. She describes it as "the elusive, yet holy core." Yes, that is what I expect to come to earth this, and every Christmas.

Forging a Bond with the Chain Gang

Listening to NPR's All Things Considered today (OK, truth be told, I'm posting this on Wednesday, but it still is Tuesday's thought) I heard a wonderful commentary that made me smile. When commentator Lauretta Hannon was growing up in Warner Robbins, Ga., she and her mother would kill time by riding around in the car. And when they saw chain gangs, they would buy cigarettes and throw the packs out the window to the men.

In the story, Ms. Hannon talks about riding in a car with no seat belts, stocked with orange juice and vodka and at the heart of the story is buying cigarettes for convicts--lots of reasons to view the story with negativity. But I realized right away that those were merely distractions from the heart of the story about learning a valuable life lesson. She described the joy of seeing the "radical happiness" she had caused; as a four-year old she was first becoming aware of her own power.

Christmas is a great time to learn that we have the power to cause radical happiness by simply giving small gifts that matter. Granted, cigarettes may not be the best gifts, but prisoners are certainly among the best recipients if we are looking to give a gift to the person whose birthday it is! (Matthew 25:31-46)

You can hear the story here.

Lo How a Skunk Cabbage E'er Blooming

I went for a walk today and saw a most peculiar sight: skunk cabbage pushing up through the snow and ice! It reminded me of this plants dogged determination to burst forth absolutely as soon as the conditions allow. Of course in this case the right conditions were a false start, there must have been enough cold weather followed by enough warmth to trick it into thinking it was early, early spring.

It is kind of like the way some of us rush Christmas, or any good thing for that matter. Much as we try to deny it, the cycles of this life are necessary, whether it is just the cold and snow of winter, or it is the dark times and valleys of despair in our lives. In those moments we learn about what we need by what we don't have. It puts life into perspective. Just like people putting their lives back together in the Gulf region, we need to take a look at what we have, not what we have lost.

So maybe seeing the skunk cabbage as foolish isn't really fair. It will simply die back and return when the real spring arrives. Perhaps if we could ascribe thoughts to it, it might think, "oh well, that was fun while it lasted, now back to sleep!"

If nothing else, persistent, insistent green shoving its way in to the bleak gray and cold of this day is a sign of hope. Isn't that what we are trying to do in preparing for Christmas?

Prince of Peace

We were reminded today how small the world has become as we lifted up the names of the four members of the Christian Peacemakers Team that have been taken hostage in Iraq. Not only has our church supported this ministry, but we have among us John Worrell and Linda Ammons who are active participants in CPT.

A CPT member is currently blogging about the situation and had a wonderful post about the experience when you visit at mosque. While I encourage you to read the entire post, I was struck by this portion of it:

We are told repeatedly that "Our Koran instructs us to work for peace like your Bible teaches you." Now the connection has been made. This is the point when I feel the weight and support of the entire Christian world as it stumbles and occasionally walks boldly to live out the gospel of the Prince of Peace.

How incredible to be aware of the universal importance of a particular act. Most of us will never know the particular experience that is described here, but I contend that there can (and should) be many moments in our lives when we can feel the weight and support of the entire Christian world. Each of us is a member of the body of Christ and so we must regularly have work to do in service of Christ. At the moment of performing that service, you have the opportunity to feel eternity in the present.

The hostage takers have set a deadline of the end of this week when they are threatening to kill the hostages. Praying for the safety of Harmeet Singh Sooden, James Loney, Norman Kember, and Tom Fox, as well as for the transformation of the hearts of their captors is one way seek that moment of transcendence. Finally, if we are to be true to our allegiance to the Prince of Peace, we must remember all the suffering of all those who are caught up in this violence. We must remember all those in prison in Iraq and their families. We must pray for those who make the decisions that perpetuate warfare and for those who create the conditions. A real and lasting peace in our time would be the greatest gift of all this or any Christmas.

The Song of Simeon

Part of the extended Christmas story is the presentation of Jesus in the temple on the eigth day (for his circumcision). When Mary and Joseph arrive with the baby they are shocked by the reception they get from an old man who lives in the temple, Simeon. He says the words that we know as a familiar parting blessing,

"Lord, now let your servant depart in peace, according to your word;
for my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel."

These words are also commonly used in funeral services. I thought of them today as I participated in a memorial service for a fellow birder (more here). At the gathering following the memorial, I heard a story about Steve's final days in hospice that illustrated how one can live a life of hope like Simeon did...right up to the end.

Linda told me how she was unsure of what to say when she visited Steve in hospice, so she decided that she couldn't rehearse such a thing and just (wisely) showed up. She quickly learned that she had made the right decision as Steve took over the conversation, telling her how he had recently had a classic look at a white-eyed vireo, seeing all the field marks and obviously enjoying the rare treat. Here was a man who understood that his life list was not going to get any longer, but he knew enough to enjoy every last bird on his last year list.

If you knew that this were your last day on earth, how would you want to spend it? I pray that the answer is "doing exactly what I'm doing."

Santa or Easter Bunny?

Have you ever put on a pair of pants, reached in the pocket and found cash? This just happened to Gina the other day; apparently she laundered some money ;-) It was kind of like Christmas discovering twenty bucks that way. Except that as I thought about it I realized that it was more like Easter, since on Christmas you generally know where to look to find the present, but on Easter you have to search for the hidden eggs (granted, what is under the tree is more exciting than an egg most of the time, but work with me here).

At the risk of beating a long dead horse, Advent is all about searching and finding that the gift is other than what we expect. We can approach the task of preparation with dread, or we can search with the joyful expectation that at any moment we might find a great surprise. We may not know exactly what the gift will be that we find, but we know that we will like it and not only will it bring us joy, it will be just what we always wanted--even if we didn't know what it was that we wanted! The great gift of finding Christ in Christmas is that we find the answer to all our needs. That's a whole lot more than a twenty-dollar bill turning up in a pocket!

Elijah's Seat

Yesterday marked the 50th anniversary of Rosa Parks' defiant stand (well, "sit" actually) on a Montgomery bus, so buses all around the nation marked the day by leaving a seat empty in her honor, including buses in Springfield. This reminded me of the practice at the Seder meal during Passover of leaving a seat at the table for Elijah. The idea is that one never knows if this will be the year of Elijah's return.

In Jesus' day people were watching for Elijah's return and some thought that he had come back as John the Baptist. Elijah is the vangaurd, leading the way and calling for us to follow. Well, wasn't that what Rosa Parks did as well? What voices do we hear today crying in the wilderness, telling us to clear a path for the savior to come to us on?

We Are All the Same

Today is World AIDS Day. Too few people mark this day, perhaps because of the sad nature of this remembrance in the midst of the holiday season. But as we prepare for the light to burst forth in the darkness it is appropriate to take a look around at the suffering in the world.

There are 40 million people in the world infected with HIV. Just this year 3 million people have died of AIDS. In Swaziland, 38% of the population is infected with HIV. In South Africa, AIDS is the leading cause of death for children under the age of five.

Read that last paragraph again and try to comprehend the magnitude of this pandemic. More people have died of AIDS this year than died in the war in Iraq, the hurricanes in the Gulf, the earthquake in Kashmir and even the tsunami last year…combined!

That is great darkness in which to hope for light. But in a world where people living with HIV/AIDS are the obvious equivalent of the lepers of Biblical times, where do you think would be a good place to look for the birth of the promised messiah?

I heard again today about the book, We Are All the Same about a young South African boy, Nkosi Johnson, who died of AIDS. He knew that life is terminal, and that for him it would be short so he spent his time doing only that which was of most importance. His adoptive mother, Gail Johnson, is an AIDS activist who, among other things, has opened inns for mothers with AIDS. What a wise woman to make room at her inn that the Christ may be born!