Who Would Have Thought

Christmas Eve has arrived.  It’s the most unlikely of days, the most improbable of events. There was a series of happenstances, occurring in such an order that they are incredible in and of themselves. Who would have thought that a baby born so many years ago would change the world so profoundly?

A baby, a little tiny person comes into the world dependent on others for care and love. Each contains promise and potential, unique gifts and strengths. Each is important. Not for power, politics, money or prestige; not for achievements, accomplishments or awards. The King, the Alpha and Omega, the one who would save the world came as a baby. He came helpless and small, not richly but simply.

It is estimated over 350,000 babies are born each day across the world. Each of these precious little lives has worth. They do not have to be accomplished, powerful, or attaining lofty goals. The King, who was there at the start of the world, came as an unlikely herald of joy, peace, and love; announcing it quietly in a little town with the birth of a baby. Who would have thought?

A Collective Breath

Christmas Eve is here!  Complete with snow on the ground, making the White Christmas I sing about happily true this year.  The presents are wrapped with brightly colored paper, completed with sparkly shiny bows.  Cards expressing Christmas wishes to all are nearly ready to be given (my theory is that as long as they go out before the New Year it’s all good).  Soon, the house will be filled with the smell of Christmas Eve chili, lemon pie and a mixture of other goodies; complimented by the sounds of children, friends and family. 

The special time of Christmas is not something that is made up of all these wonderful things, though these are exceptionally lovely things to include.  It is a yearly instance where the world seems to take a collective breath and inhale the sweet newness of an infant in a manger; the feeling we get when we hold a tiny new life that is only minutes, days or weeks old.  Thrust into our arms, the baby’s weight is slight, but it fills us with the weight of love and responsibility. 

The pause of peace that occurs around this time of year is reflected in traditions, spontaneous declarations and heartbreakingly wistful wants of peace throughout history and the world.  The town of Turku, Finland, has declared a Christmas peace since the Middle Ages.  The holly and mistletoe, respectively the kissing plant and the plant of peace, are reminiscent of the kiss of peace monarchs would give and receive from their nobles.  The old history of many carols can be traced to the need of peace that only this new life a baby could bring.  In much more modern history, a desire for peace came out again in the Civil War, even amidst Christmas day skirmishes.  The soldiers’ hearts craved that peace should be the order of the day and reflected it in their letters and songs.  After the capture of Savannah, some northern soldiers delivered several wagons full of food and other supplies to the people who were caught in a land desolated by a bitter war.  In World War I, an impromptu peace broke out in several places as men in opposing trenches exchanged songs, a few gifts, and rallied their impromptu football (a.k.a soccer) teams with cheering, ringing foreign sounds of peace through no-man’s-land.  Much more recent is in war-torn Nigeria; a few Muslim and Christian neighbors have declared this very Christmas a time of peace to celebrate together. 

Beyond the kindness to strangers we many witness at this time, these days have a convention of people drawing in a breath and catching in a singular air of the divine.  I think it is more than just sweet traditions and customs that has brought about these singular moments that we know of, and the thousands we do not know of.  I think it is the celebration of an earthly birth of a heavenly king.  The peace our minds and bodies crave catch a whisper from the spirit, quiet amongst the sounds of wrapping, caroling, sledding, shopping, visiting, and cooking; barely heard and yet keenly felt.  It is the whisper that offers peace, the peace of the spirit.  The peace we have so long wanted is rested in our arms as a new born baby, Jesus.  The emptiness in the longing is filled with the hope of peace.  But, I think that it is not just the baby that impacts in such a tremendous way, it is the man as well.  The man that died for us, died for us out of love and returned to us out of love, to offer peace. 

In the hectic moments the next few days presents, I wish you a merry and peace filled Christmas.  That you will draw in a breath and catch a faint hint of the smell of a new baby in a manger, of a man on a cross, of the promise of peace in love. 

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
 I heard the bells on Christmas day
 Their old familiar carols play,
 And wild and sweet the words repeat
 Of peace on earth, good will to men.

 I thought how, as the day had come,
 The belfries of all Christendom
 Had rolled along th'unbroken song
 Of peace on earth, good will to men.

 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 to men.'

 Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
 'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
 The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
 With peace on earth, good will to men.'

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

   

  

The Invitation List II

Preparing for a special event, the invitation list is something that is considered carefully. Who to invite? Who do you want to see at your celebration? Who do you want to share this time with? Who do you want to share your memories with of this event?
Yesterday, we had the story of the wedding banquet. Rather than rehash that, I would say let’s just focus more on the highlights of the story.
We have a king whose son is getting married. He excitedly prepares everything. When it comes time to celebrate those who had been invited snub the chance to come, the king is upset. When those who were invited kill the servant – the king is furious.
Stop!!! Wait – in this story, the servants were killed because of the guests not wanting to come. Talk about moody guests! But let’s put this in a different context. Who would a king invite to his son’s wedding? There would of course be family and friends. But, these would be those with power, who are perhaps perceived as leaders, as successful.
Now remember, this is a story that is being told and the story teller must always remember their audience. Who in this case were the party snubbers? The Pharisees who had been invited, through opportunities to learn God’s word, to make the life of being in the temple their life, and yet were standing on the cusp of the wedding banquet refusing to come and even having murder in their hearts. They had received the engraved invitation, the filigree and the beautiful language. They had sent their RSVP cards and e-mails, but when it actually came time to go, were not willing to sacrifice their schedules, their wishes, their wants.

The king tried again, God tried again. He sent servants in the form of prophets, warriors, those who loved the heart of God. He sent his son in the form of a servant.
The servants went out again, they collected everyone they could find. Come – the banquet is ready. The hall was filled.
But, in the midst of the celebration about to begin, as laughter and amazement swirled around, the king entered. He noticed that one did not belong. It wasn’t a statement of have or have not, the man being too poor to have wedding clothes. It was either being prepared or not. The man did not come prepared. He received an invitation, he was called.

But, he didn’t come prepared.

On the day of the wedding, on the day when Christ returns again. We must be prepared. As we do not know the hour, the day, the moment, we must stay prepared. Let’s be on the invitation list. “For many are invited, but few are chosen,” (Matthew 22:14).

The Invitation List I

A good story teller contains a powerful ability to manipulate words into thought, thoughts into a plot. The story is something which captures your attention and sends your imagination spinning like a child’s top across the path of possibility.


For instance, take this story... (in a very paraphrased version of Matthew 22:1-14)
A king was preparing a wedding banquet for his son. The preparations were well underway. The chef had been consulted and a special meal had been planned. Decorations had been ordered and were being prepared. The clothing for the special day was being worked on, each thread and each stitch carefully prepared. The invitation list was arranged, family, friends, associates – everyone to come and celebrate this very special day.
Then, on the day of the wedding, the servants left the castle to go collect the guests. The limo pulls up in front of their home and someone goes to knock at the door. However, when they arrived at the homes, all they heard was excuses.

“I would like to come, but...”

“Oh, I forgot it was today and I promised I would...”

“I just can’t possibly go today...”

The servants return back to the king, their limos empty, the flowers and decorations not being admired, the smell of the sumptuous meal not being sniffed. The king said to some other servants, “Go and tell them that everything is ready, tell them about the meal. Remind them that this is for their king and their king’s son.”


Yet the people still refused to come. Instead, they were mistreated.

“I thought I already told you...”

“You are trespassing; I’m calling the police....”

“That’s it, they came back – let’s get ‘em...”

The king was furious. These were his servants, being sent to the people were under his rule! How dare they act in such a manner and on such a special day? They were in effect not only turning up their noses at celebrating this day, but now were being rebellious and murderous. The king turned his attention now not to his servants, but to his soldiers. He sent the soldiers to the murderers and they were destroyed. The town was burned.


The king went back to his servants; I have taken care of that group which was invited. They did not deserve to come. But, we still must celebrate this special day. Go out again and invite anyone you can find. The servants left again, they invited everyone they could find and soon the hall was filled. Both the good and bad, both those with well known social status and the invisible. They filled the hall, the smelled the smells, the admired the views.


The king entered the hall to see the guests. He had prepared, every special garment was in place. He looked around and saw one man who was not wearing wedding clothes.


“How did you get in here without wedding clothes?” the king asked.


The man was speechless. The king went to the attendants, this man did not come prepared. Throw him out. “For many are invited, but few are chosen.”


So, let’s let the story digest....

Fulfilled

A donkey and a colt, prophesied by Zechariah came true.

“Rejoice greatly, o Daughter of Zion!

Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem

See, your king comes to you,

righteous and having salvation,

gentle and riding on a donkey,

on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

Zechariah 9:9

All planned in advance, far in advance, every detail was set to fall in place.  This wasn’t some guy down the street noticing that the disciples of Jesus were picking up a donkey and colt for use.  This was long before any of those people were even born! God’s details are so well planned that they are set up long before the guests are even invited. 

Jesus was preparing to enter Jerusalem.  But, even how he was about to enter was a detail in a very carefully planned moment.

“‘Say to the Daughter of Zion,

See, your king comes to you,

gentle and riding on a donkey

on a colt, the goal of a donkey.’”

The king is coming!  All of long planned parts were falling into place.