The Internet Monk Archives

Sermon Advent III: Good News?

Sermon Advent III: Good News? (Luke 3:7-18)

7 John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8 Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”

10 And the crowds asked him, “What then should we do?” 11 In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” 12 Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” 13 He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” 14 Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”

15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16 John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

18 So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.

• • •

When I first read this text this week, the question came to me immediately. In the final verse of today’s Gospel, we read that John the Baptist, in his preaching and exhorting, was proclaiming the good news to the people. That made me stop and re-read the text. So I read it again. And again. And each time I kept asking myself the question: “Where’s the good news here?”

This, after all, is a sermon that starts out with the preacher calling his congregation a bunch of snakes! He then tells them in no uncertain terms that their treasured religious heritage means nothing. And then he warns them that God’s about to come and cut down a lot of stuff they are invested in and throw it into the fire.

Some good news, huh?

So the crowd, taken aback by this message of judgment, asked John what to do. Normally, when proclaiming the good news, we would expect a preacher to call people to trust in God. We don’t believe people become righteous by doing good works. We teach that people trust God, become united to Jesus by faith, and then the good works flow from Christ’s life in us. It’s not what we do first of all that counts, it is faith, it is who we trust. Then that faith works itself out in loving actions toward our neighbors.

However, when you read the second paragraph of today’s Gospel, when the people ask John what they should do in response to his criticisms and warnings, he doesn’t talk at all about faith. Instead, he says, “Do this. Don’t do that.” Share what you have with the needy. Don’t be greedy and take more than your fair share from your employer. Don’t extort others for your own selfish gain. Be content with what you have.

I think we’d all agree that those are good things, right? No objection here to the moral teaching that John is giving. But is this good news? Lutheran tradition would call this law teaching. Law teaching is not the gospel. Law teaching comes before the good news. First we hold up before people God’s righteous standards. Then, when we all realize we fall short and stand in need of forgiveness and renewal, then we share the good news that Jesus died for our sins and rose again that we might be pardoned, cleansed, and raised to walk in newness of life with him. We call people to trust in Jesus, to be united to him by grace through faith, and then, out of that union, to live as we should.

Even when John gets around to talking about Jesus in the third paragraph, it is a rather daunting picture he paints of him. He portrays Jesus as a powerful harvester who will come to sort out the wheat from the chaff. Everything that doesn’t bear fruit is gonna get burned up. He is going to sort out what should be kept from what should be discarded.

At first blush, this all sounds pretty scary to me, and I’m not sure I would categorize it right away as “good news.” Nevertheless, note how the passage ends: “So, with many other exhortations, [John] proclaimed the good news to the people.”

What’s going on here?

As I thought about this, I remembered that the Old Testament is filled with statements that go like this: “Praise the Lord, for he is coming to judge the world in righteousness.”

Now I don’t know about you, but the prospect of God coming and judging the world with righteous judgment is not exactly something I’m looking forward to. There is a lot of bad stuff in this world — and there is a lot of bad stuff in me — and none of it is going to last a second when God comes to judge. The thought of God dealing with all of that makes me tremble.

But maybe that’s the point after all. Perhaps John and the prophets and the psalmists were on to something. Maybe they were announcing good news after all! This world needs to be made right. I need to be made right. We all need to be made right. What John is announcing here is that God is coming to make the world right, and maybe in order to do that, some destruction needs to take place before the construction of something new can happen.

We know this instinctively, right? Perhaps we want to build a new building where an old one now exists. We have to make a decision, don’t we? Can we merely renovate the old building, or would it be more cost effective and better to tear the old structure down and make something new from ground up? The destruction of the old becomes necessary for the building of the new.

Maybe what John is announcing here is the start of a whole new project in Jesus. God’s going to tear down the old and replace it all with something shiny and new. And when John tells the people to do good works like he does in this passage, perhaps he’s just telling them to start practicing for the new day to come, the new way of life that’s coming.

We like to think that God’s good news is all sweetness and light, but perhaps that’s not the case. Maybe God’s good news is more about the fact that God is going to do what it takes to make all things new. And that means some destruction as well as construction. That means some tearing down as well as building up. That means weeding out the bad stuff as well as incorporating the new stuff. That means that people like you and me must face up to changes that need to be made, setting aside things we cherish and hold on to, being willing to let go of our pride and self-righteousness and our need to be in control of everything.

Maybe good news means not only rising into newness of life, but also dying first.

John the Baptist talks about fire here, and this is a good metaphor by which to communicate this two-edged emphasis. We often think of fire as a destructive force. The recent fires in California, where human homes and lives were devastated come to mind. However, in nature, fire is a good thing, a natural part of the cycle of life. Fire makes a necessary contribution to the ecosystem. Fire is vital to the survival of many species. Fire not only destroys, it brings forth new life.

In forests, fire removes low-growing underbrush, cleans the forest floor of debris, opens it up to sunlight, and nourishes the soil. This reduces the competition for nutrients and allows established trees to grow stronger and healthier.

Fires also provide habitat and shelter to forest animals and birds. Fire clears out heavy brush, leaving room for new grasses, herbs and regenerated shrubs that provide food and habitat for many wildlife species.

Furthermore, fire kills diseases and insects that prey on trees and provides valuable nutrients that enrich the soil, as the vegetation that is burned becomes a rich source of nourishment for the remaining trees.

Forestry experts tell us that change is important to a healthy forest. Some species of trees and plants are actually fire dependent. They must have fire at regular intervals in order for life to continue. The destructive force of fire is actually designed to renew life! That which we instinctively view as bad news is, in fact, ultimately good news.

Praise the Lord, for he is coming to judge the earth! When Jesus comes, John tells us, he will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. This is the fire of renewal, the fire of purification, the fire of cleansing, the fire that brings life out of the ashes.

Good news comes in different forms, and here is one of those forms today. John’s preaching is the good news announcement that God is going to make the world right through Jesus, whatever it takes. Yes, it’s going to involve a coming firestorm, but when it is over, everything will be made new.

Isn’t that the good news we’re waiting to hear, really? One day, this old world and you and me are going to be made right and whole and new. So, go ahead, start practicing today. Show a little extra kindness. Learn to be content with what you have. Don’t treat others in a way that you would hate, if others treated you that way.

And brace yourself. God’s about to turn this whole world right side up. Amen.

The IM Saturday Monks Brunch: December 15, 2018 — A nostalgia feast

The IM Saturday Monks Brunch: December 15, 2018

It’s a celebration Brunch! It’s a feast of nostalgia!

This time of year is always a big one for our family, with birthdays and anniversaries galore, as well as the usual holiday gatherings. But this year is even more special, because it was forty years ago, on December 16, 1978, that this happy picture was taken at our wedding in Baldwin, Maryland. We honeymooned in Colonial Williamsburg.

I also became a pastor that year, in a little village in the mountains of southern Vermont, at the wise old age of 22. My first preaching series was on 1 Peter…or was it Philippians? I led worship choruses on a Madeira guitar (by Guild).

I (and then we) lived in a house built in 1860, with no heat upstairs and furnished with a white naugahyde sofa and not much else. No TV. An old two-seater outhouse still sat out in the attached shed. Oil heat. I drove a black 1974 VW Super Beetle we named Ebenezer. I wrecked my father-in-law’s car a few weeks before the wedding. We had a cat named Fatty Bolger who had extra toes and claws. Someone had abandoned him near Gail’s parents’ home.

Speaking of Vermont, 1978 was the year Ben and Jerry opened up their first ice cream parlor, in Burlington, VT.

1978 was the year the Blizzard of ’78 hit the Midwest, the worst blizzard Indiana (where we live now) has ever experienced. Almost 31 inches of snow fell in Indianapolis, burying the city for days. In Ohio, 51 people died. Meanwhile, where we lived, in “snowy” Vermont, we had a virtually snowless winter.

In baseball, Pete Rose of the Cincinnati Reds got his 3000th hit (that’s for you, Michael). The Yankees’ Bucky Dent broke the hearts of Red Sox fans everywhere by hitting a homer to win a tie-breaker game and send the Yankees to the World Series, where they defeated the Dodgers. The Cubs finished 79-83.

Other significant sports news: The Boston Celtics drafted Larry Bird. A 17 year-old player named Wayne Gretsky was signed to the Indianapolis Racers of the World Hockey Association. Leon Spinks became the first man to defeat Muhammad Ali in a title match, but later in the year, in a rematch Ali reclaimed the championship belt for a record third time.

One of my all-time favorite films, Annie Hall, directed by Woody Allen, won the Oscar for Best Picture in 1978. On television, Dallas debuted and Laverne and Shirley was the most popular show. The best advice of the year was uttered by John Vernon in National Lampoon’s Animal House — “Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son.”

**Alvy Singer**: …it was great seeing Annie again. I realized what a terrific person she was and how much fun it was just knowing her. And I thought of that old joke: this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, ‘Doc, my brother’s crazy; he thinks he’s a chicken.’ And the doctor says, ‘Well, why don’t you turn him in?’ The guy says, ‘I would, but I need the eggs.’ Well, I guess that’s pretty much now how I feel about relationships: they’re totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and… but, I guess, we keep goin’ through it because most of us… need the eggs.

Some books published in 1978: Chesapeake (Mitchner), The World According to Garp (Irving), The Road Less Traveled (Peck), Celebration of Discipline (Foster), War and Remembrance (Wouk), The Book of the Dun Cow (Wangerin).

Louise Brown, the first “test tube baby,” was born in the UK. Balloon angioplasty was introduced to remedy coronary artery disease. The Navstar Global Positioning System (GPS) was launched. Janet Parker, a British photographer, was the last person to die of smallpox. Microsoft opened its first international office in Japan.

This was the year when turning right on a red light became legal throughout the U.S.

Egyptian President Anwar Sadat and Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin won the Nobel Peace Prize for the Camp David Accords, facilitated by President Jimmy Carter.

In crime, it was the year of the Hillside Strangler, Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, and the Unabomber. Larry Flynt was shot. San Francisco Mayor George Moscone and City-County Board member Harvey Milk were assassinated (their killer put forward the famous “Twinkie Defense”).

Deaths included Hubert Humphrey, Norman Rockwell, and Margaret Mead. Oh, and Keith Moon.

The New International Version of the Bible was published. Pope John Paul I succeeded Pope Paul VI as the 263rd Pope, to die only 33 days later. Then came Pope John Paul II, making it the first “Three Pope Year” since 1605. The Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy was produced and signed by 300 conservative evangelical leaders. More than 900 people died in Jonestown Guyana in a mass suicide under former Indianapolis pastor turned cult leader Jim Jones.

Sony introduced the Walkman, the first portable stereo. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours won album of the year. It was a big year for the Bee Gees, with several big hits and Andy Gibbs’s Shadow Dancing topping the Billboard chart. One of the greatest rock concert films of all time, Martin Scorcese’s The Last Waltz, was released.

CCM Magazine began covering “Contemporary Christian Music” artists, and that’s who I was listening to then: folks like Don Francisco, Amy Grant, Kelly Willard, Phil Keaggy (1978’s The Master and the Musician is one of the finest instrumental guitar records ever), Keith Green, The 2nd Chapter of Acts, Lamb, John Fischer, Dallas Holm, and others.

• • •

Was 1978 the happiest year ever?

The data in this study ends in 2003, but it still points out that 1978 was pretty darn good.

From “Why 1978 was the year the world never had it so good”

Modern life and its trappings – financial crisis, war, the threat of terrorism and global warming – leaves many hankering after the good old days. And, according to new research, with good reason.

Scientists have discovered that despite an overabundance of polyester flares and bouffant hair, 1978 was the year that the world’s quality of life peaked, after which it has gradually deteriorated ever since.

Australian experts used a novel method to track the social and economic progress of the world, taking into account various economic, lifestyle-related and ecological factors to come to their conclusion.

Until recently the standard method of measuring progress in a society was by assessing its Gross Domestic product (GDP) – basically a measure of all the money spent and earned in a given society.

But, as the new study explained, this has its limits, and can in fact give an inaccurate perspective on the happiness of the planet.

…One alternative measure – and the one they used – is called the Genuine Progress Indicator. (GPI).

GPI starts by using the same figures as GDP, but uses 24 other factors including crime rates, pollution levels, loss of wetland, car accident rates and even the amount of people who volunteer and enjoy housework to give a country its rating.

The study analysed data collected between 1950 and 2003 and followed 17 countries – equating to half the world’s population – to come to their conclusion.

They found that on average, where GDP steadily increased without interruption, GDI peaked in 1978 and has tapered off ever since.

…The only country to break ranks and experience a perpetual rise until the data ends in 2003 is Japan.

• • •

Well, at any rate, it was a doggone good year for me — the beginning of my adult life, my marriage and family, my vocation, this whole blessed and broken journey.

Happy anniversary, honey! I’m up for forty more!

A Funeral Homily: The Soup of Life

A Funeral Homily: The Soup of Life

It’s very nearly winter, and the days are growing darker and colder.

I know you are feeling today like your lives have grown darker and colder as well, because you have lost your loved one. It is right for you to feel this way, because she was a warm, brightening presence in your lives for many, many years. I hope I can bring you some comfort today.

At this time of year, people often turn to warm, comforting foods to nourish and sustain them through the wintry days and nights. And that is what I would to talk about with you today.

One type of food that I enjoy in the colder days is soup. There are many different kinds of soup, and one of the great things about soup is that people can be creative when making it. They can add ingredients that they like, season it according to their tastes, leave the broth thin or thicken it as they wish, and in general, experiment with it in a variety of ways until it comes out just right. Then, what a pleasure it is to fill a bowl with steaming hot soup and enjoy it, maybe with some homemade bread. It not only warms our bodies, it comforts our souls.

I would like to suggest to you that you, along with your loved one, have been cooking a wonderful, nourishing soup for many years now. Your life together is a rich, hearty soup. She is gone now, but the soup you have been making together is still simmering on the stove.

The main ingredient of this soup, the stock as it were, is love. Over the years, you have learned to love and care for each other in a thousand different ways. The stories you have told me and pictures you have displayed here in the chapel today give evidence of the deep affection you have shared as you traveled through the various seasons and circumstances of life together.

This love-based soup has many varied and wonderful ingredients. It is filled with memories of both good times and challenging times, experiences you treasure as you recall them, and experiences you are simply thankful you got through. You learned lessons by going through these things together, your hearts became more tender and mature, and the flavor of your lives together became richer and more full-bodied.

You have also seasoned this soup with your own unique relational ways. You have spoken unique words and phrases to each other. You have your own special stories. You treasure secrets your family alone has shared. And there are the individual quirks that make your family unique. No soup tastes exactly like your soup; it has a taste and texture all its own.

Now, in the light of your loved one’s death, you are adding a new ingredient: your tears and your grief. At first you might think this will ruin your soup, turning it bitter. However, eventually you will find that even your sadness adds something special that all soups must contain. For it is a simple fact that none of us can make soup in this world without adding tears and grief to it. It is a common, necessary ingredient in human soup. It is something we all share.

Nevertheless, your particular tears and your grief are unique to you, and they add a flavor to your soup that is unlike any other. Although it shares things in common with the soups others make, your grief has a unique character and it makes your soup something no one else can ever duplicate.

Oh, and there is one more thing. An essential ingredient of this soup is something invisible and mysterious. It is the constant presence and love of God. It is God who gave you and your loved ones life, who brought you together, who allowed you to have all these experiences together. It is in God’s care that your loved one now rests. And God is with you as well, to add richness and nourishment to the soup you will continue to share in your lives together until the you are reunited in God’s new creation.

And so, in the long winter months to come, I hope you will share and serve this soup often. Savor it together. Let it comfort and warm you. Let it nourish you and strengthen you. When you are feeling sad, fix yourself a bowl and relish the love, the memories, and the unique taste and texture of the soup you have created in your life together. Feel the love and caring presence of the God who nourishes you through this hearty soup.

I pray that this special meal — this soup of life that you have made and will keep making — will warm and sustain you in the seasons to come, especially when the days and nights grow dark and cold.

Faith Across the Multiverse, Parables from Modern Science- Chapter 0: The Power of Babel Fish, By Andy Walsh

Faith Across the Multiverse: Parables from Modern Science — Chapter 0: The Power of Babel Fish

By Andy Walsh

We are going to blog through the book, “Faith Across the Multiverse, Parables from Modern Science” by Andy Walsh. RJS, the science blogger from Jesus Creed, has reviewed the book as well here, and here . She said:

My personal favorite is Andy Walsh’s Faith Across the Multiverse. In this book Walsh mixes fiction (usually science fiction of a sort), math, science, and the bible to explore our understanding of the Christian faith and the ways it can be made to live in our times. I’ve been slowly working through it and will continue. This is a good book for the science student, engineer or other interested Christian. It also provides insight into the coherence between modern science and Christian faith and may be useful to any one interested in evangelism today. This is for the science geeks among us (and I put myself in that category).

Andy Walsh completed his postdoctoral fellowship at Carnegie Mellon University in computational biology. He earned a PhD in molecular microbiology and immunology for the Bloomberg School of Public Health at John Hopkins University. Andy serves as science writer for InterVarsity Christian Fellowship’s Emerging Scholars blog, and his writing can also be found on the Patheos network and in The Behemoth, a Christianity Today publication.

Walsh intends in this book to visit several domains of science; math, physics, biology, and computer science and reveal how each one has illuminated his reading of the Bible while also using science fiction to help us wrap our minds around the new ideas. He is going to try and use what he sees as common themes and motifs and share the metaphors that he has discovered by learning what modern science has been up to for the past few centuries that have helped him make sense of words written several millennia ago. So far the book has been a unique mixture of science, science fiction, and humor that Walsh has used, not to set out abstract theological propositions, but to see if simple principles from the past can encompass the complexity of the present and abstract ideas like faith, sin, and grace can be defined in terms that make sense to nerdy, funny scientists.

Chapter 0 is called, “The Power of the Babel Fish”, which is a reference to Douglas Adams and his famous book, “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”. The Babel Fish is… well… let’s just quote Adams from the book:

“The Babel fish is small, yellow and leech-like, and probably the oddest thing in the Universe. It feeds on brainwave energy received not from its own carrier but from those around it. It absorbs all unconscious mental frequencies from this brainwave energy to nourish itself with. It then excretes into the mind of its carrier a telepathic matrix formed by combining the conscious thought frequencies with the nerve signals picked up from the speech centers of the brain which has supplied them. The practical upshot of all this is that if you stick a Babel fish in your ear you can instantly understand anything said to you in any form of language. The speech patterns you actually hear decode the brainwave matrix which has been fed into your mind by your Babel fish.

Now it is such a bizarrely improbable coincidence that anything so mindbogglingly useful could have evolved purely by chance that some thinkers have chosen it to see it as a final and clinching proof of the non-existence of God.

The argument goes something like this: “I refuse to prove that I exist,” says God, “for proof denies faith, and without faith I am nothing.”

“But,” says Man, “the Babel fish is a dead giveaway isn’t it? It could not have evolved by chance. It proves you exist, and therefore, by your own arguments, you don’t. QED.”

“Oh dear,” says God, “I hadn’t thought of that,” and promptly vanishes in a puff of logic.

“Oh, that was easy,” says Man, and for an encore goes on to prove that black is white and gets killed on the next zebra crossing.”

So Walsh wants to begin at the end, as in the end of the world. No, he doesn’t throw out end-time scenarios of destruction and judgement, he points out the end of the world is a great place to eat. Which, again, is a reference to Adam’s second book in the Hitchhiker’s Guide trilogy, “The Restaurant at the End of the Universe”. The restaurant of the title is a place where the characters go and can literally watch the end of the Universe during dinner. Walsh points out the Bible has a similar story arc:

The last chapters of the Bible describe a great wedding feast at the end of the world. People from all over the world and all throughout time celebrate together; it is the place to be. Money isn’t an issue, no one could afford the price if it were. A strict dress code is enforced, however. The good news is that if you choose to attend, arrangements have been graciously made to provide the necessary clothes for you. The wedding gives the Bible the structure of a comedy, not in the humorous sense of Adam’s books but the classical sense of resolving with a community reconciled to itself via symbolic or literal marriage.

Now that is a clever bit of hermeneutic that I have never considered before! Now if we are to make an informed decision about whether we want to attend this banquet, we need to know what we are committing to. Who is God? What is He like? Is he the sort of God with whom we would wish to spend a possibly infinite amount of time? After all, even brief social occasions can drag insufferably when we are with the wrong people; that goes double for eternity.

The Bible provides information to guide such a decision. Through it we may know God. God revealed himself in particular ways to specific people at specific times, in order that the whole of the human race could come to know him. In the first two chapters of Genesis, God gives Adam two jobs. The first is a long-term, open-ended project given to all living things, to be fruitful and multiply. The second is a task specific to Adam: to name all of the animals. In one sense the job is done when Adam names them all. In another, Walsh says, Adam has merely initiated the ongoing work of science to name everything in the physical world. And by giving Adam this job, God gave Adam, and by implication all of humankind, a powerful tool for knowing God, a Babel fish that interprets the physical universe into a language that helps us to know God relationally.

An example of the unusual way Walsh uses his science analogies is anticipating the return of Messiah. Several sections of the Bible tell the reader to expect Jesus of Nazareth, having died and resurrected, to return in the flesh. When those texts were written, his return was expected at any moment. Jesus himself implied he would come back at any time. “Therefore you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him” (Matthew 24:44). We have experience waiting for other people. On average, people arrive on time. The longer we wait for someone the less likely the person we are waiting for is actually coming. We have an expectation of a probability of the person showing up that fits a Gaussian distribution—you know the typical bell curve.

The upper and lower tails reflect the probability that the person will show up earlier or later. So if we have the expectation that Jesus is showing up under a Gaussian probability, then 2000 years is pretty late and we might be tempted to conclude he isn’t showing up at all.

However, the Gaussian distribution doesn’t describe everything. There are plenty of normal phenomena that deviate from the Gaussian model. Failure times of electronics follow a distribution other than the Gaussian. Assuming a defect-free electronic, how long a device has been running tells you very little about how likely it is to fail at any given time. Some electronic components work just fine, right up until they don’t, and there is rarely a measurable indication that failure is getting closer. Unexpected, unscheduled arrivals work the same way; the person isn’t there right up until the moment they are, with no signal of their approach. Walsh says:

The exponential distribution can model wait times for these scenarios well. One reason is the fact that the model is memoryless. Memoryless means the probability of our friend showing up now, given we’ve been waiting ten minutes, is the same as if we’d been waiting for ten years or ten centuries. One way to understand this is to look at a plot of the distribution, which shows that any later portion of the distribution is proportional to the whole (illustrated in Figure 0.2)… Even though it is counterintuitive, it is perfectly reasonable from a mathematical perspective to say the return of Jesus is just as likely now that we’ve been waiting for two thousand years as it was when his disciples had only been waiting for ten hours or ten weeks.

The discovery that a math concept could illuminate our reading of the Bible is just the type of experience that Walsh wants to demonstrate can be a way of knowing God through science, rather than just knowing of him. This should be interesting.

Another Look: Merton – Before We Can Become Gods We Must Be Human

Thomas Merton contended that human beings have lost a great deal in modern, technological society. What we have gained in efficiency and productivity has, in many ways, sucked the humanity and spirituality from our inner beings. In this meditation from Seasons of Celebration, the monk laments that we have separated ourselves from intimacy with the cycle of seasons. No longer do these annual patterns exert much influence over the course of our lives. Instead, we simply “keep moving.”

He suggests that the first step for many of us is not to seek spiritual formation through religious practice, but rather to get reacquainted with our humanity by restoring our connection to the natural world. Perhaps then, we can begin to appreciate the “cycle of salvation” reenacted in the liturgical year.

The modern pagan, the child of technology or the “mass man,” does not even enjoy the anguish of dualism or the comfort of myth. His anxieties are no longer born of eternal aspiration, though they are certainly rooted in a consciousness of death. “Mass man” is something more than fallen. He lives not only below the level of grace, but below the level of nature—below his own humanity. No longer in contact with the created world or with himself, out of touch with the reality of nature, he lives in the world of collective obsessions, the world of systems and fictions with which modern man has surrounded himself. In such a world, man’s life is no longer even a seasonal cycle. It’s a linear flight into nothingness, a flight from reality and from God, without purpose and without objective, except to keep moving, to keep from having to face reality….

To live in Christ we must first break away from this linear flight into nothingness and recover the rhythm and order of man’s real nature. Before we can become gods we must first be men. For man in Christ, the cycle of the seasons is something entirely new. It has become a cycle of salvation. The year is not just another year, it is the year of the Lord—a year in which the passage of time itself brings us not only the natural renewal of spring and the fruitfulness of an earthly summer, but also the spiritual and interior fruitfulness of grace. The life of the flesh which ebbs and flows like the seasons and tends always to its last decline is elevated and supplanted by a life of the spirit which knows no decrease, which always grows in those who live with Christ in the liturgical year. “For though the outward man is corrupted, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. . . . For we know if our earthly house of this habitation be dissolved that we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in heaven.” (II Cor. 4:16; 5:1)

Transaction or Sacrament?

Tuesday with Michael Spencer
from 2007

Debates about “transactionalism” have often been debates about the atonement. The Bible places the death of Jesus as the apex of a scriptural thread of sacrificial theology. Sacrifice is plainly transactional. No one can deny that, and I wouldn’t try. But is the death of Jesus a transaction, or is it a sacrament that allows us to think about the unthinkable and unknowable in a way that can be understood humanly and temporally?

Classical theologians argued about who received the “payoff” from Christ’s death on our behalf. Satan? The Father? When did the payment go into effect? Was the transaction between members of the Godhead, or does human faith and/or obedience effect the transaction? Did the atonement’s benefits extend to those who lived before it happened? Transactional questions are endless, leaving some persons weary and wondering, “Is this what the death of Jesus is all about? How many sins can be forgiven by how much blood? The calculation of worth?”

Such debates assume a temporal and transactional understanding of the atonement. They are built on the idea that, at some point in time, our reconciliation in Christ did not exist, but was in the future. Some Christians writers in the early history of the church, giving up the temporal aspect of the atonement, wondered if the “transactional” language of sacrifice was obscuring eternal truths about God. Was the death of Jesus a temporal sacrifice, and therefore a transaction, or was it something else? If God were dealing with another race in another galaxy, would the death of Jesus be the same, for the same reasons? Or could it be different because, in actuality, that death is a sacrament, and not a transaction at all.

Theologian Robert Capon has put forward an alternative to traditional ways of looking at the atonement, one that moves beyond the transactional language by introducing another familiar concept from Christian theology: The death of Jesus as a sacrament of God and the Gospel. This controversial proposal will upset some readers, but it has persuaded me to rethink not only the death of Jesus, but the reality of God as presented in Christ

By sacrament, Capon means a sign of reality. A sign that points to, and allows understanding of reality. The sacrament is not the totality of the reality, but participates in the reality. When a person interacts with a sacrament, he or she participates in the reality on the “other side” of the sacramental window.

Most Christians associate Baptism and the Lord’s Supper with sacraments. Capon says these are true sacraments of Christ. Christ is really present in these signs, but those participating in the sacrament are not “transacting business” with God, but are experiencing the grace of God that is always present for everyone. Those with faith perceive the meaning of a sacrament, and see the reality it presents, but the power of a sacrament is always true, no matter what the circumstance.

The “always present” aspect of the sacrament is the most controversial. Capon is saying that God’s forgiving grace is always present in Christ, always and for everyone who recognizes and believes it. Grace does not “appear” in the sacraments or in preaching and then vanish until the next transaction.

This sacramental understanding goes beyond just those signs mentioned in traditional theology. For Capon, all of reality, all of life is sacramental. The grace of God is part and parcel of creation, according to Capon, because Christ is always mediating the grace of God to His creation. We cannot escape the mediating love of God in Jesus unless we simply ignore it. Even then, Capon muses controversially, our escape from grace may prove to be futile.

Capon suggests that the cross, in fact the incarnation itself, are sacraments through which we see and experience the ever-present grace of God. Creation is a sacrament. All human life and experience is a sacrament. Jesus is the apex of sacramentalism. Once a Christian begins to think sacramentally, there is, in reality, no separation between existence and the love of God.

In this rejection of transactional language, Capon is not belittling the cross, but magnifying it as the epitome of the incarnational sacrament. While Capon does not believe a “transaction” occurred, he does believe the sacrificial- and transactional- imagery of the cross powerfully presents the grace of God in Christ, though it does not exhaust or limit that grace simply to the death of Jesus. Christ himself- God the Son- is the eternal sacrament and the very substance of the grace God extends to us in the Gospel.

I’m quite drawn to this as one who has grown weary of the debate between “limited” and “universal” atonement. Was the atonement effectual for a predetermned number? Or potentially for all, actually for none? Capon says the death of Jesus shows that God, in Christ, reconciles the world, i.e. creation, to himself. At his cost; in Chirst, effectually and graciously. Lift that up and believe it.

By suggesting that the atonement is not a temporal transaction, and that we do not conduct transactions with God as much as we come to realize what God gives us in the Gospel, Capon has helped me greatly. In the “altar call” of my evangelical Baptist tradition, transactions with God were proclaimed right and left, and sincere seekers believed that participation in the “sacrament” of coming to the front of church to pray would move God to do what we would not do otherwise. I now believe this is a profound misunderstanding of the God of the Bible, dishonoring the greatness of the Gospel of Jesus victorious, ever-present love for me.

I now believe the “Gospel” has been there since before the foundation of the world. It is the “eternal Gospel.” It is the Gospel of the Son who eternally offers himself up to God as our mediator. The cross of Jesus is the great “window” through which we see this reality, but all of Christ’s incarnation, and all of the church’s sacraments that point to him are also “windows” through which we see the eternal, unchanging kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.

• • •

Photo by Mario Marti at Flickr. Creative Commons License

Randy Thompson: Advent — Waiting for the Lights to Come on in a Power Outage

Advent: Waiting for the Lights to Come on in a Power Outage
By Randy Thompson

Winter has arrived early here in our part of New Hampshire. On the plus side, the final stages of leaf raking and fall clean-up were taken care of by the snow. However. . .

We’ve had three significant snow falls in November, and it’s now just barely December, and who knows what December has to offer us. The last snowfall, the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, was memorable for several reasons. First, we had nine inches of snow. Secondly, it was the wettest, heaviest snow I’ve ever had to contend with; even our snow thrower, which usually dispatches snow effortlessly thirty feet into the woods, had a hard time with it. Finally, this particular storm was memorably because the power went out for eleven hours. Besides no lights, radio, TV or internet, that means there’s no water from the well and no heat from our propane boiler. (Thank heaven for our woodstove!)

I was able to keep busy for much of the day by removing fallen tree limbs from our driveway so the plow guy could clear it and by digging out the driveway in front of the garage and a walk way to the back door. (The trees took a beating from the wet, heavy snow.) With my work done, or at least as much of it as I could do that day, I came inside. Of course, by then, the sun, short-lived as it nears the winter solstice, was setting, and it was dark and gloomy. The oil lamps helped a bit.

As I sat in the dusky shadows of our living room, trying to read using a flashlight, my thoughts wandered off from my reading. When will the lights go back on, I wondered. How much longer? I knew they would go back on, but had no sense as to when. The power company had been vague on this point, when we reported our outage. There were trees and electrical wires down all over the place, and they had a lot of work to do.

When you sit in the dark, your chief concern is, when will the lights come on again? You still have things to do, of course, and life goes on, but it goes on differently. It goes on in the dark, and you find yourself thinking about–hoping for–the power outage to be over. You want the lights on. You want your radio and TV. You want your internet service! You want hot water or any water at all from the tap.

And, when you sit in the dark and there’s no internet, TV, or radio, and it’s hard to read, you find yourself with fewer distractions, and what distractions there are, you can’t see them in the gloom.

This is the positive side of sitting in semi-darkness. Distractions are not plentiful. You’re forced to come to grips with the shadows that surround you. Yet, God is able to speak in and through shadows.

Sitting in the dark, it struck me that I was unexpectedly experiencing the meaning of Advent, the season of the church year when John the Baptist figures prominently with his call to repent, and when we look ahead not so much to Christ’s birth but to his Second Coming, and when we realize we are living in the time between Christ’s first Advent, which we celebrate at Christmas, and his second Advent, for which we now hope. It is the season when we are repeatedly reminded of the words from John’s Gospel: “The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood [or “overcome”] it” (John 1:5). In short, it’s the time when we hope for the lights to come on, that Christ will return, and there will be light, and a new heaven and a new earth.

We live in a world experiencing a long-term spiritual power outage. The lights are out, and people walk in darkness, alone, hopeless. The lights are out; people too often prefer this darkness. The lights are out, and we are alone in our selfishness, arrogance, greed, and hard-heartedness. We all have eyes, but many see nothing. At least, not God.

Yet, we are not alone, not really. There is a light, shining in this present darkness, shining in the lives of those whose hearts have been warmed by that light and in whose lives it is reflected, shining like oil lamps in dark places. There is hope, as the Gospel of Matthew reminds us:

Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali,
the way to the sea, along the Jordon,
Galilee of the Gentiles–
the people living in darkness have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of the shadow of death
a light has dawned.

(Matthew 4:15-16, Isaiah 9:1-2)

So, there is a light, and though it’s dark out, that light is a dawn light. It’s dark now, but more light is coming, and that light is a person, who was raised from the depths of death’s darkness and will, someday, light up the world, making all things new.

And so we live expectantly, sitting in the shadows of our lives, going about our daily business. We live in the glow of oil lamps, in the certain hope that it’s dawn not dusk, and that the lights will indeed come on, and “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” (Lady Julian of Norwich, 14th century).

Advent II Sermon: God Visited Us

Reformed Scrooge with Bob Cratchitt. Leech

Sermon for Advent II: Luke 1:68-79

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them. He has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of his servant David, as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old, that we would be saved from our enemies and from the hand of all who hate us. Thus he has shown the mercy promised to our ancestors, and has remembered his holy covenant, the oath that he swore to our ancestor Abraham, to grant us that we, being rescued from the hands of our enemies, might serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness before him all our days. And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins. By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

• • •

Jim Wallis tells the following story about Archbishop Desmond Tutu from South Africa.

Back in the 1980s, during the darkest days of apartheid when the South African government tried to shut down opposition by canceling a political rally, Archbishop Desmond Tutu declared that he would hold a church service instead.

St. George’s Cathedral in Cape Town, South Africa was filled with worshippers. Outside the cathedral hundreds of police gathered, a show of force intended to intimidate. As Tutu was preaching they entered the Cathedral, armed, and lined the walls. They took out notebooks and recorded Tutu’s words.

But Tutu would not be intimidated. He preached against the evils of apartheid, declaring it could not endure. At one extraordinary point he addressed the police directly.

“You are powerful. You are very powerful, but you are not gods, and I serve a God who cannot be mocked. So, since you’ve already lost, since you’ve already lost, I invite you today to come and join the winning side!”

With that the congregation erupted in dance and song.

The police didn’t know what to do. Their attempts at intimidation had failed, overcome by the archbishop’s confidence that God and goodness will always triumph over evil in the end.

Today’s psalm reading is taken from the Gospel of Luke, a song that we call the “Benedictus.” John the Baptist’s father Zechariah sang these words in an outburst of praise at the naming ceremony for his son, who would become the one who introduced the Messiah to Israel.

It is a song of victory. It is a song of salvation. It is a song that celebrates that:

good will win the day over evil,
peace will win out over violence,
mercy and forgiveness will triumph over judgment,
light will overcome darkness,
God’s faithfulness will outlast human sinfulness,
life will emerge from death.

These are big concepts, and I think sometimes they are hard to wrap our heads around. Even stories like the one about Archbishop Tutu comes from another place around the world that is foreign to us. We hear the words of this song of Zechariah and it is filled with big, theological words like redemption, salvation, covenant, holiness, righteousness, and so on.

But there’s another word here in this song that I love that brings all of this down to earth. In the first line of this psalm, our New Revised Standard Version says, “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has looked favorably on his people and redeemed them.” I’m not sure why the new version rendered it like that when the old translation had it just right. Here’s the way the original Revised Version said it, “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed his people.” That is exactly what the word means. God visited us.

In order to bring us all of these rich blessings that Zechariah sings about and that we have a hard time grasping, God came in person and paid us a visit. God came to us in Jesus. God met us on our turf. God entered our world. God knocked on our door. God came personally to sympathize with us and meet our deepest needs. God visited us in Jesus. We may not fully fathom salvation and redemption and light overcoming darkness, but we can picture this: God paid us a visit.

So we can talk about how good will win the day over evil, how peace will win out over violence, how mercy and forgiveness will triumph over judgment, how light will overcome darkness, how God’s faithfulness will outlast human sinfulness, and how life will emerge from death, but we won’t really get how that will happen until we grasp that God set that all in motion by a simple act of utter humanity: he visited us. A baby was born. God showed up personally and went to work.

God in Jesus showed up when we needed him. He spoke to us. He listened. He touched and healed the sick. He comforted the brokenhearted. He set prisoners free. He sat down at the table for meals with all different kinds of people. He criticized and challenged unjust systems of religion and government that were hurting the people right in front of him. He was willing to go out of his way to welcome and help foreigners. He took children in his arms. He gave dignity to women. He helped widows. He fed hungry people. He was patient and forbearing toward those who didn’t always get it, who tried and failed, who kept making mistakes. He comforted the bereaved and even brought their dead loved ones back to life to show them there is an ultimate hope.

God visited us. It was down-to-earth, face-to-face, person-to-person that God brought salvation to this world. A baby was born, grew up in a family in a small town, and walked the roads of his land talking to people and helping them. It was as simple and human as that.

In Advent and in the coming Christmas and Epiphany seasons, this is what we emphasize. Emmanuel — God with us. God paying us a visit. God coming alongside us in our lives to make us new in Christ.

And if we are paying attention, this is not only our salvation, but it has also become our calling. It becomes the template for our lives too, as those who have died and risen with Christ.

If we want to show the world that good will win the day over evil, that peace will win out over violence, that mercy and forgiveness will triumph over judgment, that light will overcome darkness, that God’s faithfulness will outlast human sinfulness, and that life will emerge from death, well, we do it the way God did in Christ. We visit our neighbors. We make ourselves available to others. We enter the world of those around us and show the sympathy and empathy that comes from identifying with them personally and becoming friends.

One politician that I really like these days is Senator Ben Sasse from Nebraska. The reason I like him is because he goes back to basics. When he looks at the hyper-partisanship and bickering that is going on in our country today, he is wise enough to know that politics is not the problem and politics is not the answer. And so he writes and speaks about more fundamental matters.

In his most recent book, Ben Sasse says, “If America is going to survive…we will have to find a way to restore the bonds of community that give individuals a place in the world where they can enjoy the love of family and friends, express their talents, and serve others in fulfilling ways.”

Sasse puts his finger on the root problem, in my opinion. He argues that “the local, human relationships that anchored [our public lives and our politics] have shriveled up.” Now, we find ourselves “alienated from each other, and uprooted from places we can call home.”

To use the word I’m emphasizing in today’s sermon, people aren’t visiting with each other much these days. Other things have replaced the interpersonal interaction that nourishes and strengthens our bonds as individuals, families, and communities. We are detached and lonely.

But — “Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed his people.”

Redeemed and made new in Christ, may we too live in this way for the life of the world around us.

Amen.

The IM Saturday Monks Brunch: December 8, 2018

Cuckoo clock in stall at Christmas Market, Cincinnati

The IM Saturday Monks Brunch: December 8, 2018

Another week of Advent, another week closer to Christmas, and here we are. Welcome to our weekly Brunch, where things are beginning to take a decidedly holiday tone. There’s egg nog on the buffet (Michael Spencer’s favorite), greens, poinsettias, and candles on the tables. Come, sit, and let’s enjoy Brunch together!

• • •

It’s Christkindlmarkt time!…

Christmas market in Berlin by Franz Skarbina, 1892

Something happens at this time of year all across Northern Europe, especially in Germany.

Pretty little stalls huddle together, filled with glistening decorations, handmade figurines, and local produce. The sounds of children’s laughter, sleigh bells, and choir singers fill the night air. Mouth-watering aromas of sizzling bratwurst, gingerbread, and toasted almonds waft through the stalls.

The Christmas markets are here, signaling the beginning of Advent.

For centuries, Christmas markets brought cheer to weary villagers and added a touch of light and color to the long winter nights.

Our story begins in the late Middle Ages in parts of the former Holy Roman Empire.

The precursor to Christmas markets is thought to be Vienna’s Dezembermarkt (December Market), dating back to around 1296. Emperor Albrecht I granted shopkeepers the rights to hold a market for a day or two in early winter so that townspeople could stock up on supplies to last through the cold months.

Wintermärkte (winter markets) began to spring up all over Europe.

Over time, local families started setting up stalls to sell baskets, toys, and woodcarvings alongside others selling almonds, roasted chestnuts, and gingerbread. These were often bought as gifts to give away at Christmas.

It was the winter markets that eventually became known as Christmas Markets—the earliest of which are claimed to be in Germany: Munich in around 1310, Bautzen in 1384, and Frankfurt in 1393.

• A Brief History of Christmas Markets

Christmas market in Konstanz, Germany. Credit LenDog64

Christmas market in Stuttgart, Germany. Credit blankdots

• • •

The invention of Christmas in America…

Thomas Nast’s famous drawing, “Merry Old Santa Claus,” from the Jan. 1, 1881, edition of Harper’s Weekly is largely considered the basis for the modern image of Santa Claus. Image courtesy of Creative Commons

There’s a good read at RNS about the history of celebrating Christmas in the U.S. —
Technology, tradition and the invention of Christmas in 19th-century New York.

Charles Haynes Haswell, who grew up in the 1820s in New York City, remembered in his memoirs that in his youth, “Christmas was very slightly observed as a general holiday.” A few years later, when Haswell was at boarding school on Long Island, Christmas was altogether ignored.

It wouldn’t be until 1849, by which time Haswell was on his way to a long career in the city’s Tammany Hall political machine, that Christmas became a legally recognized holiday in the state of New York, following Alabama and other Southern states a decade earlier. But by then New York City had already given birth to the winter festival that is celebrated today across the United States and beyond.

The article documents how Washington Irving, New York seminary professor Clement Clarke Moore, political cartoonist Thomas Nast, the Edison Electric Light Co., New York retailers F.W. Woolworth, F.A.O. Schwartz, and Macy, along with others brought much of what we know as “Christmas” to the rest of the country.

Christmas must be seen as part of the larger innovation hub that was New York City in the 19th century. But it is also a testament to the way tradition survives only as it morphs and adapts to its environments. It’s this pastiche of traditions, begged, borrowed and stolen from various cultures — saints old and new, electric technologies and spirited poetry, cartoons and consumer culture — that merges into a unique package that seems at once fresh each winter, and yet somehow timeless.

• • •

Here comes Satanism, here comes Satanism…

In 2008, a Springfield man got permission to install a Festivus pole at the statehouse, inspired by Frank Constanza’s family holiday.

Now, this year, in the Illinois Capitol rotunda this month, Festivus is not represented, but several other traditions are being celebrated. There’s a Nativity scene for Christmas, a menorah for Hanukkah, and then this: an arm holding an apple, with a snake coiled around it. It’s a gift from the Chicago branch of The Satanic Temple. Called “Snaketivity,” the work also has a sign that reads “Knowledge Is The Greatest Gift.”

This is from The Satanic Temple website:

The mission of The Satanic Temple is to encourage benevolence and empathy among all people, reject tyrannical authority, advocate practical common sense and justice, and be directed by the human conscience to undertake noble pursuits guided by the individual will. Politically aware, Civic-minded Satanists and allies in The Satanic Temple have publicly opposed The Westboro Baptist Church, advocated on behalf of children in public school to abolish corporal punishment, applied for equal representation where religious monuments are placed on public property, provided religious exemption and legal protection against laws that unscientifically restrict women’s reproductive autonomy, exposed fraudulent harmful pseudo-scientific practitioners and claims in mental health care, and applied to hold clubs along side other religious after school clubs in schools besieged by proselytizing organizations.

• • •

Washington holiday traditions…

Here’s a nice, brief illustrated history of some of the holiday traditions celebrated in Washington D.C. over the years.

• • •

Booted out of the Bible Museum…

RNS reports on a conference that was scheduled to be held at D.C.’s Museum of the Bible, but was moved because of criticism.

After encountering a barrage of criticism for agreeing to rent space to a charismatic Christian group that claims the Trump presidency is part of God’s plan, the Museum of the Bible abandoned plans to host the group and moved its meeting to the Trump International Hotel.

The Revolution 2018 event, a three-day conference run by Jon and Jolene Hamill of Lamplighter Ministries, begins in the nation’s capital Thursday (Dec. 6). It is intended, its website said, to “focus on real-time prophetic revelation with governmental authority.”

The group, which held a similar conference at the Museum of the Bible last year, boasted in promotional material for the event that the museum “represents an ‘Ark of the Covenant’ for our nation.”

It also emblazoned the word “Hanukkah” on its poster and alluded to the Jewish holiday as being providential.

“Something is about to change,” wrote the Hamills on the website. “I feel a visitation is at hand. And He is summoning us together for a very important moment which will redefine our future. Not a coincidence we are gathering over Hanukkah.”

But a group of biblical scholars, including some members of the museum’s own advisory board, objected strongly to the gathering, saying it betrayed the values the museum says it wants to uphold, including being open to people of all religious faiths.

• • •

The grace of being able to laugh at oneself…

• • •

50 years ago this week…

Singer sewing machines sponsored a television special that put Elvis back on the throne as the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll.

• • •

Alexandra Petri ranks 100 Christmas songs…

Here are a few samples from Petri’s funny and poignant list:

100.“Little Drummer Boy.” My hatred for this song is well-documented. I think it is because the song takes approximately 18 years to sing and does not rhyme. The concept of the song is bad. The execution of the song is bad. There is not even an actual drum in the dang song, there is just someone saying PA-RUM-PA-PUM-PUM, which, frankly, is not a good onomatopoeia and probably is an insult to those fluent in Drum. I cannot stand it. Nothing will fix it, even the application of David Bowie to it. Every year I say, “I hate this song,” and every year people say, “Have you heard David Bowie’s version?” Yes. Yes, I have. It is still an abomination.

87. “Frosty the Snowman.” This snowman is trying to lure children into the street! This snowman has no regard for public safety! He’s going to melt; he doesn’t care whether the children stop for the traffic! Also, this song includes onomatopoeia where no onomatopoeia is necessary. THUMPITY-THUMP-THUMP? WHAT IS FROSTY’S MEANS OF LOCOMOTION THAT CAUSES THIS TO BE THE SOUND HE MAKES? NO SINGING THE NOISES THINGS MAKE. THIS IS FINAL.

83. “Mary, Did You Know?” This song sounds as though we’re badgering the witness. “Mary, did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation? Mary, did you know that your baby boy would one day rule the nations? Mary, did you know? Mary, did you know? NOTHING FURTHER, YOUR HONOR!”

67. “Up on the Housetop.” When did we arrive at the consensus that reindeer make the sound CLICK? Did some guy have a big cockroach on his roof and everyone in his life decided to tell him it was reindeer until it went away because he had a weak heart and they didn’t want to alarm him? Admittedly, I have not spent much time around reindeer, but from what I can glean, they seem hardy, weather-resistant beasts who make noises such as GUMPH and SNORT and at most go THUMPITY-THUMP when they land. Oh, no, here I am doing onomatopoeia. I have become the very monster I set out to defeat.

51. “Holly Jolly Christmas.” This song is trying too hard. “Oh, by golly, have a holly, jolly Christmas”? Who are you, James B. Comey? Also, I am not sure I want to have a holly, jolly Christmas! It sounds like something you say to warn your coworkers at the office party not to go near Bob, who is a little holly-jolly tonight.

39. “O Tannenbaum!” Love a tannenbaum.

25. That Other Song From The Trans-Siberian Orchestra. This is the one I really like! But I always get the titles confused. This one is good and kind of metal with guitars, and it gets used a lot when people build elaborate outdoor lighting displays to anger and impress their neighbors.

• • •

My December playlist 2018…

In addition to all the Advent and Christmas music I listen to at this time of year, I also have one playlist of wintry music for December, marking the change of seasons and another step along the journey. Here are the 20 songs on this year’s playlist:

Winter, Bill Staines
Sister Winter, Sufjan Stevens
Winter, Claudia Schmidt
First Snow, Ola Gjeilo
Song for a Winter’s Night, Gordon Lightfoot
Winter Song, Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson
I Am a Rock, Simon & Garfunkel
A Long December, Counting Crows
Get Me through December, Alison Krauss
Winter’s Crossing, James Galway
Bells of New York City, Josh Groban
Cold in December, Josie Dunne
Like a Snowman, Tracey Thorn
A Winter’s Tale, The Moody Blues
The Heartache Can Wait, Brandi Carlisle
Simple Gifts, Liz Story
12/17/12, The Decemberists
To Be With You, Sara Groves
December Song, Peter Hollens
Every December Sky, Beth Nielson Chapman

•

“America’s last, great soldier-statesman”

I choked up, too — for the decent and honorable leadership, now missing, that reflects the true greatness of America.

• Dana Milbank

• • •

Jon Meacham, historian and biographer of George Herbert Walker Bush, spoke at his memorial service on Wednesday and said, “He stood in the breach of the Cold War against totalitarianism. He stood in the breach in Washington against unthinking partisanship. On his watch, a wall fell in Berlin, a dictator’s aggression did not stand.”

Meacham called Bush, “America’s last, great soldier-statesman, a 20th century founding father,” in the tradition of U.S. presidents who believed in causes larger than themselves.

“An imperfect man, he left us a more perfect union.”

When listening to some clips of President Bush today on a radio retrospective, I heard again the following excerpt from his 1991 State of the Union speech, and tears came to my eyes. Not only was I inspired once more by the simple and uniquely American conservative yet communitarian vision he eloquently communicated, but my heart also grieved deeply, knowing that those who claim to lead us today rarely inspire us like this.

Why have our leaders abandoned prioritizing and proclaiming these ideals? Where is the appeal to the “better angels of our nature?” This call to live and serve one another together in the light of a greater purpose? This call for the strong to raise up the weak and give them the opportunity to share in America’s dreams?

Drink in these remarkable words again…

If anyone tells you America’s best days are behind her, they’re looking the wrong way.

Tonight, I come before this house, and the American people, with an appeal for renewal. This is not merely a call for new government initiatives, it is a call for new initiative in government, in our communities, and from every American – to prepare for the next American century.

America has always led by example. So who among us will set this example? Which of our citizens will lead us in this next American century? Everyone who steps forward today, to get one addict off drugs; to convince one troubled teen-ager not to give up on life; to comfort one AIDS patient; to help one hungry child.

We have within our reach the promise of renewed America. We can find meaning and reward by serving some purpose higher than ourselves – a shining purpose, the illumination of a thousand points of light. It is expressed by all who know the irresistible force of a child’s hand, of a friend who stands by you and stays there – a volunteer’s generous gesture, an idea that is simply right.

The problems before us may be different, but the key to solving them remains the same: it is the individual – the individual who steps forward. And the state of our Union is the union of each of us, one to the other: the sum of our friendships, marriages, families and communities.

We all have something to give. So if you know how to read, find someone who can’t. If you’ve got a hammer, find a nail. If you’re not hungry, not lonely, not in trouble – seek out someone who is.

Join the community of conscience. Do the hard work of freedom. That will define the state of our Union.

• President George H.W. Bush, 1991

Stunning, in the light of today’s debased political atmosphere. The contrast is so stark it should be obvious to anyone paying attention.

I did not always agree with President Bush, and I would even say he is responsible for some bad, even shameful things (Willie Horton, anyone?), but the basic decency and humanity of this man cannot be called into questio. In character, experience, genuine patriotism, statesmanship, and demeanor, he was everything we are lacking now in a POTUS and in other governmental officials.

This is the moderation, the gentle good humor, the generosity and kindness balanced with conviction and battle-tested toughness that we so need today. This is the wisdom of someone grounded in family, community, and public service that we lack in so many of our current so-called “leaders.” Unfortunately, his friend Alan Simpson was correct when he quipped, “Those who travel the high road of humility in Washington, D.C., are not bothered by heavy traffic.”

Every sentence eulogizing President Bush at his memorial service was a stinging rebuke to today’s politicians, most of whom are unworthy to be mentioned in the same sentence as GHWB.

His son George W. paid him the highest tribute: “To us, his was the brightest of a thousand points of light.”

Oh, and by the way, today is December 7, when we remember Pearl Harbor.

Will anyone step up in the years to come like Mr. Bush and his peers did during and after that horrific conflict, earning the right to be called “the greatest generation?”

You want to “make America great?”

Give us more people like this.