| December 25 '04 |
|
| Volume 447 |
Christmas
Day A Brief Defense
The
official date of this publication is December 25, 2004. I hope that most
regular readers find this issue among their regular mail and email prior
to Christmas Day, but I can't be certain I'll meet my mailing deadline of
Wednesday. I don't presume this issue to be of special significance, among
all other issues this year, except for the date itself and the significance
Christmas Day has for all peoples of the world. Though Christmas Day is
especially important to Christians, it is of no less importance to people
of other faiths, in that God sent his Son, Jesus, to be born as "Savior of
the World."
There are folks who, upon reading the last sentence of the above paragraph,
would not have a clue as to what all of it means. All too many people in
our world have little knowledge of what is meant by "God" and have no
understanding of why they might need a "Savior." But, we who are of the Christian
faith know and would like others to know what we understand to be the pathway
to eternal life. The large majority of us would love to see every individual
on this planet share the Christian faith, but we are not prepared to force
anyone to accept our Jesus as his or her "Savior." Instead, we choose to
lead by example, to share our faith, to teach and preach the Gospel of Good
News, namely that Jesus Christ was born, lived a sinless life and died a
cruel death. But, He rose from the grave after three days to live again then,
now, and forevermore and that, by personally trusting Jesus, salvation is
imparted to all who believe in Him.
Whether other religions like it or not, Jesus is "Savior of the World." Whether
atheists or agnostics like it or not, Jesus is "Savior of the World." Whether
anyone has a clue to the existence of a higher being or not, Jesus is "Savior
of the World."
It's not the exchange of presents or the gathering of families for a special
meal or the spirit of generosity shown at this special time of the year or
the combination of these and more that makes Christmas Day special. No indeed,
as likely none of these would have any merit, apart from that of goodwill,
had not Jesus been born.
Long ago, the date of December 25 was set as the day to celebrate the birth
of Jesus, "Savior of the World," but the actual date of Jesus' birth is
uncertain. In fact, the exact year is not known, and scholars debate His
birth as approximately 4 B.C. to 6 B.C. What makes Christmas Day a special
day? Why, it's the day we celebrate the birthday of the "Savior of the World."
We don't all, Christians that is, celebrate Christmas Day the same way or
have the same Christmas traditions. But, we probably would not be uncomfortable
joining other Christians to celebrate according to their customs and traditions.
Jesus, "Savior of the World," would hold us together in a bond of love. Why,
we don't mind if non-Christians want to join in our celebration, and in most
instances we encourage it. Sadly, many non-Christians would rather we not
celebrate at all.
Today, America suffers from an internal strife rooted in religious liberty,
and the celebration of Christmas has in recent years been a focal point of
controversy. Consider the following, which is borrowed from The Federalist
Patriot newsletter, issue 04-51/52, http://FederalistPatriot.US:
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"Why do fringe liberals, Muslim terrorists, European socialists, and communists
all hate Christianity? What is the common thread that joins them? They desire
to control others, and they despise the fact Christianity promotes freedom
based on personal responsibility. One can't have Christianity directing people's
lives. The autocrats will direct our lives. They especially hate Christmas
as it is the most visible manifestation of Christianity and is celebrated
by more people than any other holiday. The fact that Christ and Christmas
are still so feared and hated can mean only one thing; Christ really was
who He said He was. The argument of hurting someone's feelings or making
them feel uncomfortable by celebrating Christmas is one of the most powerful
liberal weapons used against Christmas. They put the feelings of the few
above the many, and that is not democracy. Their actions are hypocritical,
as liberals demand our tolerance of all of their abominable behavior. The
politically correct insist we should value everyone's culture. As Christianity
is the majority culture in our country, should it not also be valued? Are
we observing an overdose of progressive hypocrisy? Just how long are we going
to endure the liberal intolerance of our values? ... If we allow Christmas
to be taken from our public life and our educational system, if we allow
our Constitution to be turned against us, if we fail to be a light of liberty
unto the World, we will also deny freedom to a desperate World that will
slip further into darkness. Just like the War on Terror, the battle for Christmas
will be long and difficult. A Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good fight!"
--Donald May
Now, on a somewhat lighthearted but still serious note, and from the same
publication:
-
"We wish you a winter solstice, we wish you a winter solstice, we wish you
a winter solstice and a happy new year. Don't my new secularized lyrics for
this holiday classic just bless your heart? But then again, can anything
secular actually 'bless'? Makes you wonder. But now I am going to have to
figure out what [to] do with the 'happy new year' part because -- as you
know -- the year A.D. 2005 is 2005 because it has been 2005 years since You
Know Who was born. A.D. is an abbreviation for the Latin phrase (in) anno
Domini which translates, 'in the year of our Lord.' As in the year of our
Lord You Know Who." --Tim Wildmon
Clearly, America "ain't what it used to be," but it's presently the greatest
nation on planet earth. Jesus, contrary to the vocalizations of some in America's
pulpits and airways, didn't promise his followers a rose garden in this life.
A careful reading of his teachings makes it very clear that his followers
will endure hardships, strife, trials, even tribulations, but the reward
for trusting him is His free gift of eternal life, or as we like to say,
"the rewards are out of this world."
Christmas 2004
By Barbara Carter
This morning's paper (12/18/04) contained an article about too much stress
at Christmastime. How true the facts are that I read there. Just last evening
I was talking with Rayanne about what all we still have to do before Christmas
gets here. She was so stressed, and I tried to encourage her to take some
time to just relax. I could hear my words, but do I really do what I was
suggesting she do?
Today's activities include, laundry, cooking (the family still wants to eat),
cleaning out the pantry, visiting the nursing home, going to the Christmas
musical at church, and finding time to prepare for my four-year-old Sunday
School class activity. After pouring myself a second (or third) cup of coffee,
I went into the living room for just a moment of quiet time before starting
on the list of activities. I turned on the Christmas tree lights and sat
down. The flood of lights in the room and the quiet did provide a calm to
my hurried mind.
The past month has been quite busy: Wayne has not been well for over a month
now, and even though he has been a really good patient, this has been heavy
on our minds day and night. I pulled the Christmas tree out of the box and
assembled it, mostly by myself. Wayne did help fluff the limbs and put up
the trunk of the tree. Wayne and Jason laughed at me because it took me three
days to get the lights on the tree.
Rayanne, Sarah Sue and Felicia tell me that each limb should be wrapped with
lights back to the trunk to give depth. Well, I started out with the 800
lights we had on the tree last year, but I ran out about half way up the
tree. Wayne found an unopened box of 100 in our attic, and a trip to Dollar
General produced three more strands, which I wound on the top portion of
the tree, and ran out again. However, with the angel atop and by spreading
the lights loosely through the top limbs, I decided it was enough. Our 800
light tree of last year is a 1200 light tree this year, so if you enter Woodland
Hills Subdivision and see a glow on the horizon, it just might be our illumined
tree.
My Christmas shopping is basically done, with the exception of a couple of
small gifts, which I think I have covered. What remains to be done now is
just finishing up the house, cooking and doing the routine daily chores.
I hope to take off a little time from work at Habitat to enjoy the Christmas
season at home. One of the top priorities is getting Wayne to feeling better
and trying to follow the de-stressing suggestions I read in this morning's
paper.
Even though this newsletter won't arrive in time for the implementation of
these suggestions for this Christmas, perhaps readers can clip this and save
it for next year. The Northeast MS Daily Journal article on the front page
of the Religion Section, by Errol Castens, listed the following hints for
a less stressful holiday.
-
Plan for daily family time.
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Take a long break from television.
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Exercise, rest, and eat in balance.
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Don't overdo gift-giving.
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Don't expect picture-perfect family gatherings.
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Read Christmas stories together.
All in all, I think Christmas of 2004 will produce a very good Christmas
memory for me.
Christmas
Bicycle By Kay Grafe
On Sept. 2, 1945, the document of surrender in World War II was signed aboard
the U.S.S. Missouri in Tokyo Bay. This marked the end of the Pacific phase
and the end of the war. Shoe rationing and tire rationing ended. However,
sugar reserves had reached rock bottom, so a family's sugar ration was cut
25 percent. I was very young and all this meant to me was no pies and no
Double Bubble bubble gum.
I stopped by Hemphill's Drug Company on the day a shipment of Double Bubble
arrive. My 25 cents bought 25 pieces. The treasure didn't last because Mother
said, "March right back up town young lady and return 20 pieces. You must
share with others in town."
By December of 1946, the country had spiraling inflation and shortages of
metal products. Industries were reversing their production of war-related
parts to peacetime commodities. Housing was scarce.
Mother took a job. She also rented our two bedrooms to different couples.
Our bills were mounting and Daddy was in the hospital. Mother and I shared
the hideaway bed in our living room.
That year I wanted a bicycle for Christmas more than anything I've ever wanted
in my life. My friends had bikes handed down from older siblings. Since rubber
was no longer rationed, old tires were replaced and my friends peddled up
and down the sidewalks of Forest.
Being an only child had its drawbacks - I felt a sense of isolation.
"Come sit next to me," said Mother, sitting on the sofa listening to Lowell
Thomas on the radio. "I can't locate a bicycle. They're still scarce, but
we really don't have the money. Bicycles are expensive." She sighed and hugged
my neck.
That was that. I was 8 years old. Mother couldn't help not having the money,
so I didn't cry.
Mid-December I walked through the hardware store on my way home from school,
and there it was; the most beautiful bicycle I'd ever seen. I flew down the
sidewalk to Noblin's Dry Goods, where she worked.
Mother listened. "We can't afford a bicycle anymore than we can a car."
I stopped by Mr. Carl's hardware store almost every afternoon just to touch
the glossy blue fenders. A week before Christmas the bike disappeared. "Some
fellow from Newton bought it this morning." He said.
Christmas day the shiny blue bicycle sat next to my Christmas tree.
Years later I learned that Mr. Carl called my mother and offered to let her
pay $1.50 a week until the $30 was paid off.
There was no fellow from Newton, only a kindhearted storekeeper who observed
an 8-year-old girl polishing the fenders of a dusty blue bicycle with the
hem of her skirt.
Kay Grafe, Kgrafe@msn.com - Lucedale, MS
Bodock Beau I
Still Believe In Santa Claus
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I
remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister
dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know
that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day
because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told
the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier
when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they
were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true. Grandma was
home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything.
She was ready for me!
"No Santa Claus?" she snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor
has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put
on your coat, and let's go." "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even
finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's
General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about
everything. As we walked through it's doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.
That was a bundle in those days.
"Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it.
I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never
had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded
, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few
moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering
what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew:
my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the folks who went
to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby
Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind
me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I
knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother
always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we
kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he had no good coat.
I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby
Decker a coat! I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It
looked real warm, and he would like that. "Is this a Christmas present for
someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars
down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled
at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat.
I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and
wished me a Merry Christmas. That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat
in Christmas paper and ribbons (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma
tucked it in her Bible) and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.
Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over
to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever
officially, one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's
house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front
walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered,
"get going ."
I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on
his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes
and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front
door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering beside
my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful
rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous.
Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.
I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.
~ Anonymous ~
Submitted by Lamar Carter - NYC NY
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