Perfect!

Merry Digital Christmas!

The man who invented Christmas-as-we-know-it

Alexander Green, author of the occasional Spiritual Wealth email, sent an absolutely inspiring letter this morning. I asked for permission to reprint it and the Oxford Club, owners of the letter, agreed to let me.

It says a lot about Christmas--things I had never heard before. I thought you'd find it equally fascinating.

Last weekend, my family, some friends and I attended a performance of A Christmas Carol. . . .

It was superb. The kids particularly enjoyed it and were surprised to learn that the author – Charles Dickens – is the man most responsible for the modern celebration of the season. This is a story that deserves to be more widely known...

Dickens is one of the greatest writers in the English language. He published twenty novels in his lifetime. None has ever gone out of print.

Yet in 1843, Dickens’ popularity was at a low, his critical reputation in tatters, his bank account overdrawn. Facing bankruptcy, he considered giving up writing fiction altogether.

In a feverish six-week period before Christmas, however, he wrote a small book he hoped would keep his creditors at bay. His publishers turned it down. So using his meager savings, Dickens put it out himself. It was an exercise in vanity publishing – and the author told friends it might be the end of his career as a novelist.

Yet the publication of A Christmas Carol caused an immediate sensation, selling out the first printing – several thousand copies -in four days. A second printing sold out before the New Year, and then a third. Widespread theatrical adaptations spread the story to an exponentially larger audience still.

And it wasn’t just a commercial success. Even Dickens’ chief rival and foremost critic, William Makepeace Thackery, bowed his head before the power of the book: “The last two people I heard speak of it were women; neither knew the other, or the author, and both said, by way of criticism, ‘God bless him!’ What a feeling this is for a writer to be able to inspire, and what a reward to reap!”

Today we all know the tale of tight-fisted Scrooge – “Bah! Humbug!” – and his dramatic change of heart after being visited by the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future.

But A Christmas Carol didn’t just restore Dickens’ reputation and financial health. It also breathed new life into what was then a second-tier holiday that had fallen into disfavor.

As Les Standiford notes, in early 19th century England, the Christmas holiday “was a relatively minor affair that ranked far below Easter, causing little more stir than Memorial Day or St. George’s Day today. In the eyes of the relatively enlightened Anglican Church, moreover, the entire enterprise smacked vaguely of paganism, and were there Puritans still around, acknowledging the holiday might have landed one in the stocks.”

The date of Christmas itself is an arbitrary one, of course. There is no reference in the gospels to the birth of Jesus taking place on December 25th, or in any specific month. When Luke says, “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior,” there isn’t the slightest indication when that was.

And while the day was marked on Christian calendars, celebrations were muted. That changed when A Christmas Carol became an instant smash, stirring English men and women to both celebrate the holiday and remember the plight of the less fortunate. This was exactly the author’s intent.

Dickens grew up in poverty and was forced into child labor. (His father, a naval pay clerk who struggled to meet his obligations, was thrown into debtor’s prison.) Yet despite these handicaps, Dickens educated himself, worked diligently, and rose to international prominence as a master writer and storyteller.

He was a great believer in self-determination and, in particular, the transformative power of education. With learning, he said, a man “acquires for himself that property of soul which has in all times upheld struggling men of every degree.”

Yet in the London of Dickens’ day, only one child in three attended school. Some worked in shops, others in factories. Still others resorted to theft or prostitution to live. Dickens was determined to expose their plight. A Christmas Carol, in particular, is a bald-faced parable, something few novelists attempt… and even fewer successfully execute.

Dickens said his novels were for the edification of his audience. His goal was not just to entertain but to enlighten. And A Christmas Carol was designed to deliver “a sledge-hammer blow” on behalf of the poor and less fortunate.

It worked. Scrooge – a character as well known as any in fiction – is now synonymous with “miser.” Yet through his remarkable transformation, the author reminds us that it is never too late to change, to free ourselves from selfish preoccupations.

Dickens’ biographer Peter Ackyroyd and other commentators have credited the novelist with single-handedly creating the modern Christmas holiday. No, not the contemporary orgy of shopping, spending and ostentatious display. In A Christmas Carol, there are no Christmas trees, gaudy decorations or – apart from “the big, prize turkey” at the end – any presents at all. The only gifts exchanged are love, friendship and goodwill.

In one small book, Dickens changed the culture, inspired his contemporaries, and helped restore a holiday they were eager to revive.

More than a century and half later, A Christmas Carol is still a tonic for our spirits – and an annual reminder of the benefits of friendship, charity and celebration.

Christmas music up to date

Just for fun. But pretty impressive.

Enjoy!

From North Point Church in Alpharetta, Georgia. The iBand plays Christmas music.

Happy Old Year's Eve: A concluding comment on the Year 2008

I was introduced to a Dutch tradition when I met Sarita.

I had only heard of New Year's Eve and New Year's Day.

But Sarita's family celebrated Old Year's Eve or Old Year's Night . . . a time to remember the past and contemplate the future.

And so, in keeping with that practice, I thought the following end-of-year/Christmas editorial from the National Post, a publication of which I was previously unaware, is most apropos:

“Yes, we can” is good politics but bad theology.
“No, we can’t” won’t inspire a campaign rally,
but the realization that the glory of this world
is constantly passing away
is the first step in the search
for another, more enduring glory.

Sic transit gloria mundi — thus passes away the glory of the world, the old Latin phrase puts it.

In 2008, the glory of money took the biggest hit. The economic ground shifted beneath our feet, and so much that was solid, so much that was powerful, so much that was thought stable, has passed away.

The mightiest of them all, General Motors, has devoted its most intense recent energies not to production, but to begging.

The year began with five famous investment banks on Wall Street. In 2007, they distributed year-end bonuses to their combined 186,000 employees of some $38-billion — more than the GDP of Bulgaria, to put it in perspective.

In 2008, Bear Sterns and Merrill Lynch were bought out to save them from going bust; Lehman Brothers went belly up; Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley converted themselves into regular banks. Transit: 5; gloria mundi: 0. . . .

The fundamental Christian telling of history is that we are always in crisis to a greater or lesser degree. Man is estranged from God and consequently estranged from his neighbour; therefore he lurches through history trying to avoid one calamity or another. The Christian believer knows we need Christmas.

We need Christmas because, contrary to a certain messianic politics that took hold of so many this past year, the simple answer is that we can’t save ourselves. The things we make and manufacture, whether automobiles or mortgage-backed securities, are not the stuff of salvation. . . .

The Christian faith is that the Child in Bethlehem came to save us from this passing world, entering into it that we might, with Him, overcome it. This year we may be more disposed to considering that possibility than most.

To our readers then, who do us the . . . honour of passing some of their time with us, we wish a Merry Christmas and a new year abundantly blessed by those things that do not pass away.

Amen.

I couldn't say it so well myself.

Merry Christmas

I receive Google Alerts for various keywords--my name, for example, and Sonlight Curriculum.

Tonight I received an alert for "the daisyhead"/Connie's blog and her post titled, simply, "Merry Christmas."

It features Ephesians 1:4-6 ("For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight. In love He predestined us to be adopted as His sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will-- to the praise of His glorious grace, which He has freely given us in the One He loves.") and this video--a beautifully produced picture story of a little girl being chosen in adoption*:



Perhaps it hits me with greater force because I know my son and daughter-in-law ache to hold "their" want-to-adopt-them children in their arms.

We pray for Eduard, Inna and Vika on a regular basis. May they soon be able to come home!

---

* Song by Brad Avery and performed by Third Day.

Merry Tossmas!

Whoa! The other side of "Happy Holidays!"

Feliz Navitoss!

Catalogs solve problems you didn't know you had . . .

From Saturday's paper. A few glimpses from a longer article well worth enjoying.

On occasion, my husband and I are reduced to tears, imagining the poor schlub
charged with writing a compelling copy block for the "festive coffee scoop that
doubles as a bag clamp" and other gadgets the catalog company couldn't give away
any time of year but Christmas.

Below, a seasonal sampler:

• Popcorn.

The Popcorn Factory has packaged this humble exploded seed so many ways it needs 47 pages to display them all. . . .

My favorite is the Peace on Earth Popcorn Tin, accompanied by this message: "The first step toward world peace is bringing people together. And what better way is there than to share sweet and savory treats?"

Who knew? We could have wrapped up the Hundred Years War in three days with Orville Redenbacher on our side. . . .

• Snowman Kit. "Everything you need to dress Frosty in his finest, except the snow." Includes coal, carrot, buttons and pipe, all made of wood and mounted on skewers. $14, Restoration Hardware.

Correct me if I'm wrong. The fun in making a snowman or woman or dog is individualizing it, going to the garage and finding a few charcoal briquettes left over from two summers ago and scrounging around for a ratty hat and dated sunglasses.

Snowman kit?

Perfect for the plastic surgeon on your list.

• The Carbib . . . from Solutions may look like an ordinary kitchen apron, but don't be fooled. This is a special apron designed exclusively for people who eat in their cars.

"This 'apron' covers your upper body and lap, directing any spills and crumbs to the floor for easy cleanup."

Additionally, "A front pocket keeps fries or cell phones accessible."

If you're like me, you saw the Carbib and thought to yourself: "Darn! All those times I traveled I-25 with one hand on the wheel and the other wrapped around a big, juicy slice of watermelon. . . . What I wouldn't have given to have known about this product years ago." . . .

Love Languages: The Gift of Gift-Giving . . . and Receiving

It took me 22 years to realize I needed to make plans concerning gifts for my wife. We had another major "talk" about gifts just this past week--29 1/2 years into our marriage.

Here's what's going on--or what has gone on in the past!

******

First, let me tell you the story of how I was raised. That might help to explain a few things. But there is more--a lot more!--that follows. Give me a few minutes of your time. I think you will be well-rewarded.

When I was growing up, it was the standard in my parents' family that we kids got underwear and socks for Christmas. Not much else. Not much else, anyway, that I can remember! Our friends all got fancy toys. We did not.

When we kids got old enough to buy Christmas gifts for one another or for Mom and Dad, it was the "norm" to go out the day before Christmas--i.e., Christmas eve--and see what you could find. That night, you'd do your wrapping. Everyone in my parents' family did his or her wrapping on Christmas eve. Many times, Mom . . . --Oh! I remember one gift she once gave me that wasn’t socks or underwear! She once made me a bathrobe! . . . On Christmas day, when we opened our presents, Mom gave me a box with a promise that she would make me that robe. . . . I think she may have included the fabric inside the box. . . .

Anyway. You get the idea.

Christmas gifts were pretty much an afterthought. We didn't buy them till the last possible moment. Sometimes they didn't even exist yet. Maybe they weren't even wrapped. They were "thoughts in the mind."

Birthdays weren’t much better.

To this day (my mom died 20-some years ago), I don't think my dad has ever sent Sarita and me even a Christmas gift much less a gift. (When I talked with her about this the other evening, while we were having our "talk," she said she could count on one hand all the gifts my parents--either my dad on his own, or my dad and mom together, for the eight years she was still alive after Sarita and I got married. I thought maybe she was being ungenerous. --Not having any mind to remember any such things, I knew I was dependent on her memory for such things. . . . Well, she had to think very hard, but she did come up with five items, going back to our wedding.)

Anyway. If Dad sends us a card, it is an e-card . . . at the last minute. . . .

So. That was how I was raised. Gifts are "nothing."

Sarita, meanwhile, was raised very differently. A good illustration of exactly how differently: The first year we were married, we were (I probably should say, mostly, she was) finished shopping before the end of August. We were married in mid-June. We were done Christmas shopping before the end of August!

Then, in her family, they opened gifts on Christmas eve (so we could go to a Christmas service at church on Christmas morning). So that night, after we had opened our presents, as we climbed into bed, Sarita said, "So let's write our Christmas list for next year!"

"Hunh?!?"

"Oh! You could see what people wanted by the way they responded to the gifts other people received. . . ."

"You could?!?"

"Yes! . . ."

So we wrote out our list of probable gifts for the following Christmas. . . . "That way, if we see anything on sale throughout the year, we can pick it up. . . ."

So that's what we did.

*******

Fast forward many years. I continued in my bumbling ways. Sarita was constantly disappointed. Not because I didn't want to get her things, but . . . I just "didn't think of it."

Then, sometime about seven or eight years ago (I remember, at the time, I said to myself that I was astonished it took me 22 years to learn this!), I woke up to the fact that I really needed to make plans to get her gifts in advance. Like: "Whenever you're together and she says she likes something, Buy it. You don't have to give it right then. . . . Stash it away for 'use' when the proper occasion presents itself."

So that's what I began to do. And Sarita would help me by actually "even" telling me things she would like as gifts. --Not just a month or a few weeks before her birthday or Christmas. But "whenever." As I say: maybe while we were on vacation somewhere and shopping together. (I don't do much shopping in stores that carry the kind of stuff she enjoys receiving! Indeed, I hate shopping malls. If I have something specific I want or need to purchase, I will venture inside just far enough to retrieve whatever-it-is I need. But, in general, don't ask me to 'go shopping,' in the sense of aimlessly wandering through stores to 'see what we can see.' . . . Only on occasion--maybe while we're on vacation, or during some other brief period when I'm in a strangely brain-dead moment--should you ask me to join you on such an excursion. . . . Or maybe you shouldn't. Maybe we should be out on a date or something and I should simply discover afterwards that, for some reason, we happened to find ourselves wandering the mall. . . .)

Anyway.

I tried to "wake up" more to the subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) hints Sarita would throw my way about things she'd like for a birthday or Christmas gift.

And I have done very well, for the last seven or eight years--she will tell you so, herself-- . . . when it comes to Christmas and birthdays.

But I have continued to fail in another, deeper manner.

One day someone recommended Gary Chapman's The Five Love Languages. We got a copy and I went through it. Neither Sarita nor I had any question that my love language is Touch . . . and/or Closeness. (Chapman doesn't say anything, specifically, about a "language" of Closeness. I'm making that up. But I correlate the two. It means--and has always meant--a great deal to me that no one--no one, not even any of our kids, even when they were exceptionally young--should "get between" Sarita and me. If we were sitting in church: no one sat between us. Ever. It was simply understood. The symbolism was too great, too meaninful. So, yes, "Touch" is vital--I'll just about sit in her lap if she would let me--but "mere" closeness is "good enough." . . . But don't get too far away or I'll start thinking--being sure--that "something is wrong" between us. She's angry at me. Or something. . . .)

But what about Sarita? What is her love language?

I was convinced it is Gifts. (After all, I reasoned, gifts mean something to her. Deeply. She cries when I do a lousy job of giving her gifts. Of all the languages, it's the only one that "makes sense.")

But, for some reason, Sarita denied that Gifts are her language. (Maybe she was afraid of looking graspy, selfish, more interested in things than relationship?) I have no idea why whe said what she did. It didn't make sense to me. But that's what she said. She couldn't tell me what her language is. She just said Gifts are not it.

For some reason, I felt myself let "off the hook" for her love language, since she couldn't (or wouldn't) tell me. So I permitted myself to "simply" give her nice gifts at Christmas and her birthday. . . .

But then, just this past week, we had to have a little "come to Jesus" meeting. And somehow, now, she admitted Gifts probably are her love language. The fact that I don't give her gifts makes her feel unloved, unappreciated, as if I never think of her.

"I know," she said, "if I don't touch you, if I don't kiss you first thing in the morning, if I don't hold your hand or put my hand on your thigh while we're driving: you don't feel loved. I don't have any need for that kind of touch. I don't touch you like that for my sake. I do it for you. It's a conscious, deliberate decision on my part to do that for you. . . . So why wouldn't you reciprocate for me by giving me a little gift once in a while? It doesn't have to be big. Just a little something that says, 'I've been thinking of you.' . . ."

Well . . .

I had to confess I have a lot of "baggage" to work through.

For example, I asked: "What if you don't like what I pick for you? --I mean, if we're shopping together, I know there are times when you will pick something completely different from what I would choose. . . ."

Or: "Y'know, we've been in Costco and I've asked, 'How about if we get a bunch of those beautiful flowers?' --I think they're gorgeous and I'd love to get them for you, but you say no, you don't want them. . . ."

Or, "A few weeks ago, we were in the store and you were looking at something and I knew you really wanted it and I wanted to get it for you, but I could just 'hear' you reprimand me: 'We can't afford that! Why'd you buy that!?!'" . . .

Ouchy!

******

I think I've gotten--at least temporarily--a better "handle" on things.

At this point, certainly, we are in a much better financial position than we used to be a few years ago. We're not in need, financially. So I'm sure, even if she were to complain that I "shouldn't have," I wouldn't actually be placing ourselves in any financial difficulties by acquiring whatever-it-is that I got her. . . .

But . . . It is true that those little negative comments at different times about things I have gotten her or that I wanted to get her: they have discouraged me. . . .

So we have worked through some of the issues, talked them out, strategized: "Here's what you can do, John. . . ."

Sarita told me of what my sister-in-law once told her about a conversation she (my s-i-l) had with my brother. (He's got the same weak gift-giving background I do!)

According to Sarita, my s-i-l realized it was helpful if she gave my brother a list of possible gifts that she would like to receive. (Sarita has been doing that with and for me, too. In fact, she has made that a discipline and habit for our family: "Tell me what you would want within this kind of budget: $____. --I am willing to spend up to $____, total, for all your gifts." --The kids will give us a list that includes stuff that, if we purchased it all, would definitely go over the stated total; but they and we know that no one needs to be surprised or disappointed by false expectations. And Sarita and I know best what to get them--what they would enjoy--and they know we're not going to get them "the moon." . . .)

Anyway.

Back to my s-i-l.

She told my brother about something she had seen in a particular store (and what store it was, etc.). She then said, "Do you want to know which one?!?"

"No, thanks," he said. "I want to choose the one for you." --And he did. And it turned out to be the very one that she wanted. . . . Very satisfying for both parties.

Kind of along the same lines: I love to get Sarita jewelry. But I have very strong preferences in what I want to get her. I am very unexcited about diamonds. I love brightly-colored semi-precious stones instead.

I think Sarita has agreed to let me choose--usually with her, but occasionally not--what jewelry she would enjoy but that I really like. That way, I feel special pleasure in the giving--I am really and truly excited about the piece--but/and she is excited, too.

******

Oh. And one last thing.

I really do have a stash of [more expensive] presents that I can pick from when the "big events" come. By the time I give them to her, she has more or less forgotten about a lot of them. (Actually, unlike me, she actually does remember almost everything we ever buy. But, she has no idea when I'm going to give her whatever-it-is. That way it is a surprise for her.)

And for the "little things" that I have, just this week, realized I want to give her (because I know they mean so much to her and I love her and I want her to know it--just as she knows how much her touch means to me and she loves me and she wants me to know it!) . . .

--She suggested, when I'm at Home Depot, I could pick out a flower for her. . . .

So I had to go to Home Depot yesterday. And I looked for a flower.

What a joy!

I spent about 15 minutes mulling over exactly which succulent I wanted to buy her.

And then--actually, this was a few minutes before I went to Home Depot--I was at the grocery store. (I often--about once a week--eat a sandwich at the grocery store. So I was at the store and ate my "on my own" lunch.) . . . I had to pick up milk and a couple of other things. While I was there, I saw that avocadoes were on sale.

I, myself, could care less about avocadoes. I don't dislike them, per se. But I have no hankering for them at all.

But I saw they were on sale. And Sarita loves them. So I bought a couple for her. --A "gift."

And I know she loves Granny Smith apples (which I don't enjoy). I knew we were out of them. --I decided to buy her a bag. Another "gift."

That's not the way I think. But I am, just now, beginning to realize that's the way she thinks. Gifts--even little things, like avocadoes and Granny Smith apples--tell her I've been thinking of her. And that means "the world" to her.

I didn't make a big deal out of these things. I just "threw them in" the mix of stuff I picked up at the grocery store.

But I figured she'd "get the message" that I had been thinking about her.

And, especially after our conversation this past week, I figured she probably wouldn't "chew me out" too much for having "wasted" money on her by buying those special things.

And guess what? She didn't "chew me out." And she did notice. --A perfect "win" all the way around!

I love giving Sarita gifts. I just haven't felt very "free" about it.

*******

I hope maybe something of what I've written here might be of help to someone.

Old habits of mind ("We're too poor!" "We can't afford that!") and old "tapes" ("Why did you get me that?!?" "No. I don't want any cut flowers.") take a long time to overcome. . . .

If, therefore, you're someone who has the Gift love language and your spouse does not, you probably need to talk about these issues. And you will need to talk about them more than once. You will probably need to provide your spouse a bit of coaching. But I'm sure s/he will "come around" . . . if you give him or her a chance.

Prohibited, Permitted--Two historical Christian approaches to limits

I'm a member of a discussion group and someone in that group noted, offhand, that "the majority of Christians [fall] into two camps: those who believe that 'whatever is not expressly prohibited, is permitted' (Luther) and those who believe that 'whatever is not expressly permitted, is prohibited' (Zwingli)."

I had never heard anyone express such a view before, but it seems to "explain" a whole lot that has puzzled me.

No one, as I grew up, ever discussed the two possibilities. My sense, however: I was raised with a more "Lutheran" view, a view paralleled, it seems, in my mind, by Jesus' comment to his disciples: "whoever is not against us is for us" (Mark 9:40) or "whoever is not against you is for you" (Luke 9:50).

But when I got to seminary--and after, as I dealt with more "Reformed" Christians (Calvinists . . . or Zwinglians)--I bumped into the latter view, a view paralleled, it seems, in my mind, by Jesus' comment to his disciples: "He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters" (Matthew 12:30; Luke 11:23).

I'm not prepared, here, to go in-depth into the issues, but you can see some of these differences at work in such matters as the "regulatory principle" in worship and--which most of us who have not been raised in such circles see as a different issue--holiday observances.

You can find some of the most outspoken presentations on this matter of the regulatory principle at the Still Water Revival Books website and, most particularly (among many), at their "Against Pagan and Roman Catholic Holy Days (Holidays) Like Christmas and Easter" page. Quite shocking.

A sample of the kind of material you will find there: the following summary of Christmass Condemned by Christ, a sermon by Greg Price:

Price shows how the teaching of the Lord Jesus Christ condemns all man-invented holy days. Scripture and history are brought to bear most specifically on the celebration of Christ-mass, demonstrating why it is a sin to celebrate this day. It is also noted that Scripture never commands the celebration of this day and that there is no evidence that Christ and the Apostles ever celebrated this day--in fact, this syncretism of paganism and "Babylonian" Christianity was not first celebrated until 354 A.D. (when December 25 was chosen, in accord with the Pagan feast of Saturnalia, as the day of "celebration").

Price also clearly shows that to call yourself Reformed while you hold on to this Roman Catholic/Pagan monument of idolatry makes for a serious contradiction in your testimony--as the best Reformed churches have always disciplined those (in accord with Scriptural teaching) who broke the second and fourth commandments by keeping antichristian festival days like Christ-mass, Easter, etc.

Citations from Luther, Calvin and the company of Geneva Pastors, the Church of Scotland's First Book of Discipline, the 1620 Dutch Synod, the Civil Government of Holland (1625), the British Colonies in the U.S. and the Westminster Assembly all speak with one voice against this Romish corruption. Common objections against the classic Reformed position are also answered.

"Thus saith the LORD, Learn not the way of the heathen" (Jer. 10:2).

For more information see Christmas: A Biblical Critique by Kevin Reed.

I'm afraid I'm out of time to comment further at this point. I hope to return to this subject shortly.