Our Best Christmas Performance Ever

Growing up I often heard the story of the ruff and tumble Herdman children who came to church enticed by snacks and ended up volunteering to be in the Christmas play. As time went on the six Herdman’s took over the production, caused anxiety among the adults, and put their rustic twist on the play. Yet in the end, the town deemed it the best Christmas pageant ever.*

Stripped away from their performance was the polished perfection of rehearsed lines and overly practiced movement across the stage. Stripped away were all the pretenses that can so often lead us astray. The Herdman’s brought authentic worship for a baby king. In a similar fashion, I witnessed something yesterday that brought a raw emotion to me from the tips of the hairs that stood up on my neck to the watery vision of my eyes. The Village children of our compound were at it again.

In the past two weeks my sons and all their friends have been working together to create gingerbread houses, singing carols, playing games, and in general having a good Kenyan Christmas holiday in our compound. Yet yesterday was different.

 

They rode in on their makeshift donkey carrying the unborn king.

And when they arrived they found no room in the inn so had to settle for a lowly manger. After wrapping the baby in swaddling cloth, and in true awe, they couldn’t take their eyes off of him.

Even a rough and tumble shepherd with his trusty sheep was brought in from the margins of society to witness the greatest gift of all.

As the narrator belted out the story line from the Jesus Storybook Bible, and the angel made her appearance to all involved, the watching audience sat amazed at the transformation unfolding.

Like the Herdman children in the 1971 book*, it was unexpected and it was real to those looking on. I imagine the events of the first Christmas must have been very similar. From the shocked parents and neighbors of Mary to the overwhelmed and fearful shepherds. Or the unscripted haste with which people took off to search for this king above all other kings. When the truth is right in front of you, you can’t help but be overwhelmed at what “has happened, with which the Lord has made known to us.”**

The Village children performed from the heart “glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told to them.”*** And it truly was our best Christmas performance ever.

* The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson

** Luke 2:15

*** Luke 2:20

Do you see what I see?

It really is that time of year again. A time when gift giving comes to the forefront of our consciousness and traditions take prominence. Conversations turn towards family and songs about peace begin anew. Yet amidst it all there often hangs the dismal cloud of dismay. Disbelief shrouds pessimism, covering our path forward in doubt and despair.

“And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said;
    “For hate is strong,
    And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”*

And so we trudge along with less spring in our step following our man made star of cynicism. Blurred vision and self-sightedness guide the way, but then we come to a bridge. It seems old and rugged. At times it may even appear too fantastical to be real. Yet regardless of our perspective, it is still there. The very bridge we need when there is no other way to cross the bottomless chasm we see in front of ourselves? The bridge is anchored in a foundation deeper than Earth’s core. It’s anchor is love.

Do you see what I see? A bridge, a bridge, shining in the night. It can lead us straight to the Light.

The Bridge

From Uncreated Light to straw…

From perfect triune harmony to cloth…

Omnipotent to frail…

Eternal to Infancy…

Joy, unspeakable joy. An overflowing well, No tongue can tell.

Joy, unspeakable joy. Rises in my soul, Never lets me go.**

…From straw to wood

…From cloth to nails

…Frail to power

…Infancy to eternity

Christmas is the bridge to the cross. And the cross is our bridge to God.

 

It truly is a time when we remember that all can be made right. A time when our wrongs can be restored by crossing the bridge.

“Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
    The Wrong shall fail,
    The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men.”*

* Christmas Bells by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

** Joy to the World (Unspeakable Joy) by Chris Tomlin

 

Yes Indeed

Many years ago it seems, but not so far away, my wife and I found ourselves in a Christmas play as the parents of three middle aged children. It seemed plausible at the time since we weren’t far from having children of our own. We were living in the Land of the Rising Sun and all around us the notion of Christmas was present, yet the presence of Christmas was absent.

Our stage children were keeping us busy with life and somehow time passed and we never really explained to them what Christmas was all about. So as the play unfolded there was the piercing question of “Dad? Mom? What is the real reason for Christmas?” I don’t recall what my scripted answer was, however, I vividly recall thinking how odd to have three middle school children who had never heard the true meaning of Christmas. But as the play suggested, sometimes we become busy being busy. Decorating cookies and filling stockings gives us immediate joy and suddenly time passes and we’ve glossed over and forgotten to share what the presence of what Christmas is all about.

****

Fast forward many years to a lunch conversation. Cue the music:

As the background music floated through the room reminding us all that “it’s the most wonderful time of the year“, a little voice pierced the tranquil thoughts and memories floating through my head.

“Papa?”

“Hmmm”

“Papa?”

“Yes.”

“Papa. What is the real most wonderful time of the year?”

“I don’t know, what do you think?”

“I think it’s when Jesus resurrected from the dead. What do you think Papa?”

“Yes, indeed. Well said son.”

****

Maybe we did learn our lesson from that play so long ago but not so far away. Keeping the main thing, the main thing can be more of a challenge than we think sometimes. However, to live in the presence of the Risen Son is indeed the most wonderful time of the year. And that is truly worth sharing.

Not The Christmas Christmas

“It’s the real Christmas. Not the Christmas Christmas.” Said Michael excitedly upon finding a book for Benjamin to read to him about the first Christmas.

Calculations are taken. Calendars are rearranged. Checklists are made. And the cramming of grades, cookies, and ideas begin. Yes, it’s the time of the year when words like good and tidings go together without people looking at you strange. Family traditions are upheld, new traditions are forged, twice as much food is consumed, and pop culture takes a break from the norm. It can be a wonderful time to press pause and reflect upon what really matters most. Yet, sometimes it feels like we’re merely moving pieces of our lives around trying to stay one step ahead, in preparation for the next event. When it feels like we are merely ticking off boxes in a checklist of activities, events, and productions it can be easy to loose focus on the plot.

When told that we would be putting Christmas decorations up Benjamin excitedly exclaimed that he would make a Christmas decoration out of Lego blocks.

Either he is confused over the time of year it is or else he really gets what it’s all about.

The Bridge: Reflections

“To give a person an opinion one must first judge well whether that person is of the disposition to receive it or not.”

–The Book of Samurai

 

I couldn’t really say that I maintain a strong grasp on the pulse of my homeland right now. Like every country the beat of a nation rises and falls. Nor could I say that the politics of the moment and feelings of the day are within my grasp of knowledge either. Common sense has taught us all that news from social media is nowhere close to inherent. That being said, it appears there are some strong emotions mixed with unhealthy doses of fear permeating the atmosphere. While I generally steer clear from jumping into the arena with the big dogs to weigh in about my own opinions and thoughts on current events, this time I feel the need to share a few things I’ve recently reread.

1 John 4:18 “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.”

1 John 4:20 says, “If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen.”

1 John 2:9 says “Anyone who claims to be in the light but hates his brother is still in the darkness.”

“Our culture has accepted two huge lies: The first is that if you disagree with someone’s lifestyle, you must fear them or hate them. The second is that to love someone means you agree with everything they believe or do. Both are nonsense. You don’t have to compromise convictions to be compassionate.” –Rick Warrren

I realize that not everyone may agree with my opinion on different matters, however, the majority I think will find that we’re entering a season where mutual respect regardless of differences has traditionally been upheld. We can get into semantics later, but I think we can also agree that fear and respect are not the same. Christmas was the beginning of the bridge. It was built so that we might experience life without fear. A life that takes us out of darkness and revolves around a lasting love. A way of redemption shown to us not because we are deserving or without blame, but rather shown to us by the only God who has come to us and desires to restore a relationship that has been broken. Restoring honor where there was once shame. That to me is certainly a bridge worth pursuing and sharing.

“We love because He first loved us.” (1 John 4:19)

The Bridge

From straw to wood . . . cloth to nails . . . frail to power . . . infancy to eternity

The bridge to the cross.

From a silent night to the only one raised to save.

“Joy! Unspeakable joy! . . . Rises in my soul, never lets me go.”

–Chris Tomlin