Packing Up Christmas

So Christmas has come and gone--Christmas Day, that is.  Technically we are still in the season of Christmas.  But we in America are so quick to pack up the decorations, put away the lights, turn off the special music and move on to preparing for the Super Bowl (usually brushing past Martin Luther King, Jr. Day with a mere nod of the head in the direction of civil rights or black history.)  I am not opposed to the Super Bowl, I just think we shortchange ourselves!

We feasted through Advent, with office parties and family parties and neighborhood parties and school parties and, well you get the point!  And so we were worn out by the time we got to Christmas Day itself!  We will rally a bit for New Year's Eve, but that is mostly an excuse for excessive drinking, late night partying and journalistic pontifications about year's best (those ubiquitous "Best of" columns) and the year ahead diatribes (you know, "Forecasting 2016" articles).  And as for Epiphany?  Aside from our Hispanic neighbors who enjoy the day as El Dia de Tres Reyes, most of us forget it even exists.  January 6th, a holiday?  What's that?

It's sad, really, that we've lost the fasting/feasting cycles of life in postmodern America.  There are, of course, those who fast unintentionally, the poor, the hungry, the homeless, and those who engage in non-stop feasting, indulging in every whim.  But intentional fasting, going without, and intentional feasting, enjoying the good things of life in a healthy, happy way--that's a lost art for most.

As I move into 2016 I wonder how I can rectify that in my own life.  Maybe you'd like to join me.  Maybe we can use the rest of Christmastide to figure it out!

Branches of Hope and Tree Trunks of Faith: An Immigrant Christmas

Like hundreds of thousands of other German immigrants, Heinrich  had come to this country early in the last century in hopes of finding a better life.  He'd been apprenticed to be a cabinetmaker, and hoped to use his skills to provide for his family.  While he was here his son, Walter, was born--and life looked promising. 

But then news came of a sudden death in Germany, and Heinrich, by now known as Henry, got word that he had inherited a chicken farm in the homeland.  So back he went.  And things went well, at least for a bit.  But it was a time of growing unrest in Germany.  A time when evil was on the rise; when neighbors were being pitted against neighbors by a madman known as Der Fuhrer.  And Henry could not stand the distorted reality called National Socialism.  So he gave up the farm and his inheritance, and with his son Walter in town, returned to America.

They found a tiny attic apartment and scraped by on Henry's meager earnings.  They were good Lutherans, and normally looked forward to Christmas with its special music, and of course, the tree.  After all, wasn't it Luther himself who started the tradition of decorating a pine in honor of Christ's birth?

But money was very tight, and there were other things to worry about.  Still, Henry wanted to keep the tradition alive, if not for himself, then for his eight-year old son.  So he scraped together what little he had, twenty-five cents in all, and went out late on Christmas Eve to look for a tree.  Finally he found a tree seller still open.  He was down to his two last trees.  And a very sorry sight they were!  Both of them were scraggly at best, with only a few branches each.  One of them was as crooked as the Rhine River.  But the second, at least, had a trunk that was straight and true.

Maybe the seller was tired, or eager to get home.  Whatever the case, a deal was struck.  And Henry took both trees for a quarter.

He and his son Walter dragged them home.  And then, undeterred by their scrawniness, and using his carpenter skills, Henry cut the branches off the crooked tree, drilled hole in the trunk of the other, and soon assemble a fine looking specimen.  It was a Christmas tree to make old Martin Luther proud, but it was more than that.  For it was, in retrospect, a symbol, a sign, a reminded that the importance of facing the unexpected twists and turns of life with courage and honesty.  For time and again, Henry did just that.  He embraced the unexpected, and over time, assembled a life that would provide branches of hope, and a tree trunk of faith, not only for young Walter, but for his daughter as well. Henry's granddaughter.  Who told me this story many years later, as we sat one December afternoon in her living room.

My Christmas prayer, for each of you, my dear readers, is that you too might face the unexpected twists and turns of life with courage.  Might you too create branches of hope and tree trunks of faith.

Merry Christmas!

Meeting God at the Mall

This time of year, one often is flooded with memories of Christmas seasons past.  One such memory for me involved a young woman from one of my former parishes, who was living far from home.  She was facing a very difficult pregnancy and, just before Christmas, her unborn baby developed some very serious complications.  First she was rushed to a local hospital, and then to a specialty unit in Philadelphia.  It was vey touch and go.  To treat the fetus meant putting the mother at some real risk.  But she and her husband clung to hope.

Meanwhile, the young woman's mother-in-law was in Northern New Jersey.  She was able to pray.  She did her best to support her son and daughter-in-law with visits and phone calls, still, she was worried.  More than that she was afraid.

But Christmas was coming, and she had things that needed to be done, including some last minute shopping.  So with a heavy heart, she headed off to the mall.  She wrestled the traffic, found a parking spot, and was exhausted before she even got inside.

As she passed though the mall hallways, she came across a group of children singing in one of the courts.  She sat down to listen, and soon the poignancy of their Christmas carols just washed over her, and she began to weep.

One of the children's moms was seated next to her.  She reached over and gently touched her arm.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

With that it all came flooding out:  my friend's fears, her worries, her tears.  But lo and behold, the singer's mother was a woman of faith, and within seconds, she gathered up three of her friends and right there in the middle of the largest shopping mall in New Jersey, they prayed for a woman they had just met, her daughter-in-law a hundred miles away, and a baby not yet even born.

After my friend finished telling me the story, which she gave me permission to share with others, she said, "You know, John, I'm sure God sent those young mothers to tell me, "You know where I am, and you know what you're doing, so just keep doing it."

And right there, in the middle of the mall, my friend knew God was with her.  Emmanuel.

Shortly after that encounter, my friend became a grandmother.

Might you too be blessed by an awareness of God's presence in this holy season.  And might you make that presence known in your own acts of love and kindness.

Faith in God, Faith in Guns

I subscribe to two newspapers, the New York Times and the local daily paper out of Fort Myers, The News-Press.  The Times gives me a broad picture of the nation and the world, the News-Press helps keep me current on matters of concern here in Southwest Florida.

One of the features in the News-Press is a chronological listing of events and classes being held by area faith communities.  As I read through this past Sunday's listings for the week ahead, it contained an array of items, mostly focused around Advent, Chanukah and Christmas:  a 25th annual Christmas carol sing (twenty-five years is old in Florida!), a Chanukah celebration (no specifics, but menorahs and latkes will most likely be included!) and an event called Celebrate the Advent Season (most likely without latkes!)  Imagine my surprise, however, when wedged between a Christmas cookie decorating event and a Holiday Bazaar, I found this listing:  "Florida Gun Shows Fort Myers until Dec. 13, Lee Civic Center, etc.)"  (The News-Press, 12-6-15, 28A)  Florida Gun Shows?  In the Faith Calendar?  I realize, one could argue cookie decorating has little to do with matters of faith as well, but Florida Gun Shows?  I can only hope that some editor was asleep at the switch when that entry was included.

The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that it may have been incredibly appropriate.  For there are many, many Americans (and others) who place their faith in guns.  Why else would they hold on to them so tightly?  What's that t-shirt that shows up on Facebook every once in a while?  "They'll take my gun out of my cold, dead hand"?  If that's not religious fervor I don't know what counts as such!  Perhaps those who claim religion is the cause of all--or most--wars and violence are right.  They've just forgotten to list faith in guns among the various religious expressions around the world.

That's why, as much as I agree with the front page editorial that showed up in the New York Times this weekend as well, I don't think it's going to happen.  Here in part is what they said:  "Certain kinds of weapons . . . and ammunition . . .must be outlawed for civilian ownership . . . . [A]nd yes, it would require Americans who own those kind of weapons to give them up for the good of their fellow citizens." (New York Times, 12-5-15, A-1)

That sounds to me like a practical application of the Golden Rule, subscribed to by people of many different faith traditions.  But I suspect it doesn't cut it if you put your faith in guns.

JESUS, BREAD AND CHOCOLATE: A Review

 

Would Jesus want his followers to drink Budweiser, or some locally produced craft beer?  Would he urge them to eat Wonder Bread, or a freshly baked 12-grain loaf?  These are the kind of questions one can't help but think of when reading John J. Thompson's Jesus, Bread and Chocolate.  In fact, this intriguing volume might be described as a collection of object lessons for grown-ups.  You remember object lessons, don't you?  Sometimes called children's sermons, object lessons involved pastors taking some common everyday item, and using it to illustrate a theological point or to teach a moral principle.  Lots of preachers still use them, including from time to time me.  And arguably, Jesus used object lessons all the time--however we usually call those parables.

But I digress.  The objects Thompson writes about all fall into the general category of artisanal products.  Handmade, hand crafted, individualized things like craft beer, fair trade coffee, home baked bread . . . you get the idea.  Part of the book's charm lies in the details Thompson provides about the objects themselves.  He is a home brewer himself, and lovingly describes the process of creating beer.  "The grain must first be malted," he writes, by exposing it to just enough moisture so that the germ inside starts to grow." (165)  That kind of detail is offered up for coffee, chocolate, farmers markets and indie music.  Again and again he makes the point that what makes such things extra fine is the simple fact that they are not produced by machines and assembly lines, but rather by individuals who truly care about the end result.

The key to understanding Thompson's book can be found in the final paragraphs of his text where he writes:  "In confirmation class, I learned that a sacrament is 'an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace.'  Therefore, cultivating taste for the good, the true, and the beautiful is a sacramental process.  How amazing is that?  There are outward and visible signs everywhere around us."  (254) Things that can be found in places like farmers markets or small local bakeries.  Throughout the book he attempts to point out the "inward and spiritual grace" tucked away in such common things--much like the germ inside the grain.

As Thompson's half-title indicates, he is advocating for "crafting a handmade faith in a mass-market world" or what he calls "an artisanal faith."  Occasionally he gets lost in the details, but for the most part he successfully makes his point.  His object lessons work. 

Thompson's book can be read cover to cover, or, one could benefit from picking out the chapters that intrigue and gleaning the wisdom contained in those so chosen.  To some extent, Thompson's writing is at its best when he focuses on very tangible objects and the lessons they have to convey.  It is less successful when he strays into the abstract. 

Which brings me back to my original questions.  I'm not sure how Thompson would answer them.  However, despite Bud being the self-proclaimed King of Beers, I suspect he would have us understand that the local craft beer would be the choice of the King of Kings.  And even though Wonder Bread claims to build strong bodies twelve ways . . . well, you figure it out!

(Disclosure of Material Connection:  I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network.  I was not required to write a positive review.  The opinions I have expressed are my own.  I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255)

 

(Note to my readers:  I am now part of SpeakEasy, a network of bloggers who review books having to do with matters of faith.  Every four-six weeks I will feature a book review that I hope will be of interest to you.  Otherwise, this blog will continue to focus on those issues and ideas that impact our lives as people of faith.  Thank you for your continued loyalty to this blog!)

A Voice from the Past, Speaking Out for Today

The news these past few weeks has been full of stories about terrorist attacks around the world:  Lebanon, Mali, Paris.  And I am frightened.  Very frightened.  Not so much by the terrorists themselves, though their actions are cause for a measure of fear.  No what really frightens me is the vitriol of the response to their actions that seems to sweeping across the nation.  It especially concerns me when it is packaged as a "Christian" response. 

There is something especially frightening about the prospect of some sort of national registration based on religious affiliation.  The suggestion that all Muslims should register as such with the federal government is abhorrent.  And then to go on and suggest that all mosques should be kept under surveillance only increases the level of fear and hatred already present in this country.  Does that mean monitoring all those coming and going from mosques?  Does that mean embedding spies in all Islamic prayer services and classrooms?  We must step up and say no to such ideas.  Not later when they become actual regulations or laws, but now, while they are still only ignoble suggestions.  If for no other reason than to protect our own religious freedoms.  For if the government can do it to one religious group what is to prevent it from doing it to all?

These ideas, as so many have pointed out, smack of the Nazi's rhetoric and actions towards Jews and others in an earlier time.  Indeed, the words of Martin Niemoller, a German Protestant pastor who was held in a concentration camp for seven years, ring as true today as they did so many years ago.

"First they cam for the Socialists, and I did not speak out--because I was not a Socialist.  Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out, because I was not a Trade Unionist.  Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out--because I was not a Jew.  And then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak for me."

Yes, there are Islamic Radicals, Extremists, Terrorists at work in the world.  And we must seek to bring them to justice.  But we must not, absolutely must not, paint the millions and millions of Muslims around the world and in our own nation, with the same brush strokes.  We must stand up and say, No!

Enough is Enough

Sunday I attended a Communitywide Prayer Vigil in Fort Myers.  It was held in response to the gun violence in our county and beyond.  Many pastors, musicians, governmental leaders, law enforcement officials and just plain folks gathered to pray and sing and light candles and hold up our common concerns.  Near the end of the service we used a litany called "Vigilance after the Vigil."  An extremely well-written piece, it called on all of us who had assembled to not only pray, but to be willing to take action.

I was reminded on the slogan promoted in years past by an organization up north:  "Pray and Picket."  I am not sure the action called for in this case involves picketing or other such demonstrations, but the sentiment is there:  we can pray, we must pray, but we also must be willing to do more.  A reference was made to an old saying, sometimes attributed to St. Ignatius, that you must "pray as if everything depends on God, and work as if everything depends on you."  And an expression used by  Frederick Douglas was also quoted, inviting us to "put legs on our prayers."  However you say it--what ever slogan you use--the bottom line remains the same.  We've got to get up off our knees and work towards a solution.  That doesn't mean never return to our knees--but it does mean our efforts must include more than prayer.

I'm not sure what shape that will take in my own ministry.  I'm not sure what it will require of me.  But I know I agree with the overarching theme of the evening:  "Enough is enough."  The time has long since come and gone, when people of all faiths, and no faith, need to band together and strive for a more perfect union.