Christmas Cheer—And Our New Year

Steps to our deck, Jan. 2014.

Jan. 1, 2018 scene isn't quite as snowy.

Now that we’ve crossed the divide into 2018 perhaps we might risk a personal glance through the rear-view mirror to 2017.

What kind of year was it for you?

How would you characterize it? 

Was yours a dazzling year crowned with so many positive outcomes and joys that you can hardly wait for more of the same, so you eagerly lean into each new day? 

Or, did the year bring you inconvenient troubles, severe trials and deep losses; a year you’d rather forget but can’t? 

Does it seem that consequences continue to dog your path and you know that you’ll have to live with and through them day by day with foreboding and trepidation?

Courtesy: beradical.net

Let us reflect back on the central theme of Christmas that, in the coming into the world of Jesus ­—the Christ Child, God has come to humanity—has come to you, me and us.

Jesus, meaning, the “Lord is Saviour” or “. . . salvation” for He saves “his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21; Luke 2:11), is also called Emmanuel, meaning, “God with us” (Mat. 1:23).

Personally, I don’t know what 2018 may bring or whether I’ll even live to see all of its days (although I hope I do). Likewise, nobody knows that score regarding their own life—not with absolute assurance, anyway.

It’s wonderful and a great comfort for me to know that my sins have been dealt with by Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross; I’m forgiven—reconciled to God. I have an assurance that I belong to Him and that in Jesus, as Emmanuel, God journeys with me when things seem to be going just great, and also when life’s road is rough and the going is tough.

He’s promised to be with His spiritual children and will never leave them, nor will He forsake them (Hebrews 13:5). Therefore God is with me, even if I happen to feel all alone. These are marvellous gifts of His amazing grace.

Is this also your hope, your experience and relationship with God, because of Jesus? Let us embrace Him and hold fast to these understandings by faith and in trusting Him as Emmanuel—God, who is with us, while we step out and onward day by day.

Thought for Today’s Journey

Christ, who is the Lord of Christmas cheer

Is also Christ the Lord of our New Year.

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Peter A. Black is a retired pastor – well, sort of retired – and lives in Southwestern Ontario. He writes a weekly inspirational newspaper column, P-Pep! and is author of Raise Your Gaze ... Mindful Musings of a Grateful Heart, and Parables from the Pond -- a children's / family book. ~~+~~

Eggnog – It’s Over . . . for Now by Peter A. Black

You – a loving and caring, thoughtful individual – may feel bombarded, if not overwhelmed, by the multitudinous matters of great import that day after day mount an assault on your consciousness, as wave after wave of distressing, heartrending news reaches you through every kind of media.

These impact your mind, engage your sensibilities and stir your emotions.
News of tragedy, disrupted lives, privation and loss that people suffer, may go right over some folks’ heads – especially if occurring on the other side of the country or the world. But not over yours; you’re sensitive. You wince, torn inside, because you’re already committed to supporting numerous causes, and are unable to accommodate yet another.

Who can fault you for lapsing into a few wistful moments of retreat to squeeze comfort from memories of good times and pleasant experiences past? – And from favourite comfort food? Although the year is young, its infancy is about over, yet there’s time enough for the resumption of diet and exercise routines or whatever you may have resolved on January 1^st. (Disclaimer: Don’t  take that as actual advice.) Point: even caring folks need a break from clamouring calamity.
 
Before I commenced framing these musings I went to the fridge and extracted a carton of eggnog, a vestige of the Christmas, New Year and Festive Season. I admit it. I’d spun this supply out as long as I could. It was still fresh, coddled in chilly recess at the back of the fridge.
Please don’t grimace if you can’t stomach that enchanting elixir of Christmas cheer, and I implore you not to judge me – at least not too harshly – for my sentimental eccentricity.

And so, I prepared a bold half-decaf coffee containing a generous dash of eggnog and milk. I ‘nuked’ it to bring the temperature back up to steaming hot and perched it nearby the computer, for sipping on the job, and then began these ramblings. Aahh, the festive season lives! But I know it’s really over once the stored up eggnog runs out.

What particularly signals a season of the year or in your life truly over? You no longer cling to it; you know it’s dead and gone. Each season in nature begins and ends, although there can be overlap and fudging of the signs, such as when wintry weather doesn’t come till well after winter’s official commencement, or we get a premature blast in an early snow dump.

A woman holds on to her wedding dress for years, picturing her daughter wearing it on her wedding day. Tragically the girl dies young. The woman’s husband forsakes her for another’s embrace, yet she occasionally plucks that cherished dress from the closet and holds it to her cheek. Fresh tears fall, spotting the silken white memory. Oh God, help him remember his vows; bring him home to me, she sobs. But no, he divorces her.

It’s over. The dress can now go. Although wounded she has no lack of love in her heart, yet this is the first day of the rest of her life. It’s time to move on – but only thoughtfully and prayerfully. Time to heal. And so, she presses on, with gratitude for the good that was, for the good that is, and for the grace that will lead her on to discover the good that God has in store.

The spirit of Christmas lives on in grateful, loving hearts. The season’s festive trappings are stored away and its comfort food and drink are gone for now. Nevertheless, Jesus our Saviour, our Emmanuel – the God who is with us – comforts us along life’s pathway. 

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Photo Credits: Eggnog Cup: Polyvore.com
Wedding dress: A. Black; Wooded Trail: P. A. Black

Peter writes a weekly inspirational column and enjoys singing inspirational music and playing piano, organ and accordion, and encourages the upward focus. His latest book –  "Raise Your Gaze ... Mindful Musings of a Grateful Heart" – reflects this in a variety of brief articles and stories:
Author:
"Parables from the Pond" – a children's/ family book (Word Alive Press)
"Raise Your Gaze . . . Mindful Musings of  Grateful Heart (Angel Hope Publishing)

Blog Raise Your Gaze
Email:      

 

Buechner and Emmanuel - Arends

 
As we launch into the second week of Advent, consider this wonderful piece from Frederick Buechner ... and Merry Christmas!

Christmas is not just Mr. Pickwick dancing a reel with the old lady at Dingley Dell or Scrooge waking up the next morning a changed man. It is not just the spirit of giving abroad in the land with a white beard and reindeer. It is not just the most famous birthday of them all and not just the annual reaffirmation of Peace on Earth that it is often reduced to so that people of many faiths or no faith can exchange Christmas cards without a qualm.

On the contrary, if you do not hear in the message of Christmas something that must strike some as blasphemy and others as sheer fantasy, the chances are you have not heard the message for what it is. Emmanuel is the message in a nutshell. Emmanuel, which is Hebrew for "God with us." That's where the problem lies.

The claim that Christianity makes for Christmas is that at a particular time and place "the high and lofty One who inhabits eternity" came to be with us himself. When Quirinius was governor of Syria, in a town called Bethlehem, a child was born who, beyond the power of anyone to account for, was the high and lofty One made low and helpless. The One whom none can look upon and live is delivered in a stable under the soft, indifferent gaze of cattle. The Father of all mercies puts himself at our mercy. Year after year the ancient tale of what happened is told raw, preposterous, holy and year after year the world in some measure stops to listen.

The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth. A dream as old as time. If it is true, it is the chief of all truths. If it is not true, it is of all truths the one that people would most have be true if they could make it so.

Maybe it is that longing to have it be true that is at the bottom even of the whole vast Christmas industry the tons of cards and presents and fancy food, the plastic figures kneeling on the floodlit lawns of poorly attended churches. The world speaks of holy things in the only language it knows, which is a worldly language.

Emmanuel. We all must decide for ourselves whether it is true. Certainly the grounds on which to dismiss it are not hard to find. Christmas is commercialism. It is a pain in the neck. It is sentimentality.

It is wishful thinking. The shepherds. The star. The three wise men. Make believe.

Yet it is never as easy to get rid of as all this makes it sound. To dismiss Christmas is for most of us to dismiss part of ourselves. It is to dismiss one of the most fragile yet enduring visions of our own childhood and of the child that continues to exist in all of us. The sense of mystery and wonderment. The sense that on this one day each year two plus two adds up not to four but to a million.

What keeps the wild hope of Christmas alive year after year in a world notorious for dashing all hopes is the haunting dream that the child who was born that day may yet be born again even in us.

Emmanuel. Emmanuel.

From Secrets in the Dark:  A Life In Sermons - Frederick Beuchner

Posted by Carolyn Arends

 www.carolynarends.com

Emmanuel - Austin

The hype is behind. Christmas has come and gone. Kids are heading back to school and life will return to its previous blend of challenge and tedium. The flurry of activity in churches will subside at least a little, and for most people in the western world, the claims of “Emmanuel – God with us,” will once again be pushed to the recesses of their minds.

On the streets of any community in Canada today, the average person knows as much about Santa Claus as about Jesus Christ. They don’t take Santa Claus very seriously, although if they have small children, they learn to use the language well. I wonder how different we, the church, are? We use the language pretty well, and not just with small children. I own multiple translations of the Bible and can quote lengthy passages. I’ve read it cover to cover enough times that I do pretty good in Bible Trivia games. But that old question that was asked quite frequently a number of years back bothers me a bit today as I sit at this keyboard – “If I was accused of being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict?” If the same criteria was used for my belief in Santa Claus as for my belief in God, how much difference would be found?

Does ownership of multiple Bibles place me in some unique league? Do I dare confess that there are weeks when I’m working hard on some project when my dictionary gets more use? Do I dare confess that at times I weary of the Bible? With all its incredible stories, its wonderful and varied writing styles, its magnificent poetry and the message of God’s love that lives and breathes in its pages, I sometimes want to run from it, hide from it, shut out its claims on my life.

I can read a novel and take or leave what it says. I can thrill to the story, even when I can’t turn off the red pen in my brain. But the Bible changes me, and sometimes, to tell the truth, I’d rather not be changed. I’m within a few weeks of that magic age when I’m eligible for a number of “senior” privileges. I’ve gotten used to my quirks, including my failings. For the most part I’ve learned to live with who I am, strengths and weakness, foibles and foolish dreams included. But the Bible always seems to call me a little higher. It takes work to climb higher. It takes effort. It takes diligence and alertness. And sometimes I’m just plain lazy. I want to see the view from the top of Mount Everest, but the work of climbing Mount Everest has never been one of my dreams. I want to keep the wonder of Christmas alive through my year, but the offence of Christmas – the Creator of the Universe making His bed in a feed-trough in a stable – first visited by shepherds, who didn’t stop to shower and shave – I want, somehow, to sanitize that picture, to make it more acceptable. That isn’t the way I would have planned it, and I want, somehow, to remake God, at least in small ways, in my image. But Christmas in a (watch where you step) stable – shatters my feeble attempts at redesigning God.

The hype is behind, but the truth remains. We are a visited people. Emmanuel – God with us is reality, because Christmas is historical fact, and the stable was the chosen place.

Emmanuel - Hovsepian

My favourite Christmas-related word is "Emmanuel". What could be more beautiful, more meaningful, more awe-inspiring than the idea — and REALITY — of "God with us"? To me, that is what Christmas is all about. As Christians, we often try to remind people that the holiday isn't about gifts and parties by stating that it's about the birth of Jesus. I don't believe that says enough.

Why was Jesus born? What is so significant about His birth? It's the fact that God chose to dwell among us and to bring salvation through His Son Jesus — by humbling Himself to the point of leaving His glory in heaven to be born in a stable and to walk among us in this broken world. And He came with a purpose: to give up His life as a ransom for our sins because we are powerless to save ourselves.

It takes my breath away when I consider what God has done for us, for me. There is so much hope in the words "God with us". This lonely, despairing world needs that message of hope!

My prayer for you this Christmas is that you will experience — and share with others — more than ever before, God with us.

http://www.annhovsepian.com/