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Never give up hope…the hope of Christmas.

Posted on December 23, 2011 By

 DOWN YONDER, FL. – The little girl’s eyes sparkled when she spotted the huge mechanical Santa waving from his post outside the store.

“Ho, ho, ho,” she said, surprising her parents. They didn’t realize she knew so much at 17 months.

People find Christmas in many different places but I see Christmas in the smiling eyes of that little girl.

I relive the miracle of that first Christmas night with each gleam of unconditional love that springs from her sweet and tiny face. She’s an adult now or nearly so. I still see the unconditional love and I still see the small child each Christmas.

Christmas began, of course, with the birth of a child.

Born in a barn and laid in a manger, that tiny infant was a gift to the world; a gift intended to relieve the world of its slavish attachment to itself, to relieve the world of its meanness and self-seeking; replacing those worldly constrictures with hope, love and peace.

That is quite a burden to place on the soft shoulders of a baby child and, yet, it is only a baby child who has a chance at fulfilling that promise.

Each child carries within her or him the steadfast love, the trust and the undated yearning for peace and universal understanding.

It is in the eyes of each child that we see the hope for peace and harmony and the promised of a new and brighter day. It is in the eyes of all children, no matter their color or the color of the skin around those hopeful, yearning eyes.

The promise of children is not only found in the eyes of Christian children, either. It is also found in the eyes of Jewish children and Muslim children and Buddhist children and Hindu children and in every child of every religious, social and cultural stripe.

Christmas lights may sparkle and add luster to the season but the sparkle in a child’s eyes is as powerful and as moving as any bright star in the east.

There are, at this Christmas, still too many children of hope and promise suffering from the cynicism of adults.

Although it is but a dim glow, the light of hope sparkles even in the eyes of the children of Syria, of Somalia, of Nigeria and too many other places where children suffer.

Even inAmerica, where the promise of hope is woven into the basic fabric of civic life, 15 million children suffer from poverty and society’s neglect.

Until each child has a chance to realize her or his own promise of hope and peace, the Christmas story will remain incomplete.

A little know but dramatic narrative describing the birth of the Christ Child was probably penned at least 200 years after that birth. It’s called the Arundel manuscript of a Latin Infancy Gospel.

“The child himself, like the sun, shone brightly, beautiful and delightful to see, because he alone appeared as peace, soothing the whole world,” reads the translated manuscript. “…and opening his eyes, he looked intently at me and suddenly a great light came forth from his eyes like a great flash of lightening.”

It is the power of Christmas that puts that light into each child’s eyes. The Christ Child was born to all people and children everywhere are born to all people like him.

As long as children are being born into this world, the hope and promise of that first Christmas will never end.

Merry Christmas to all sleeping children of hope and peace, wherever they rest their heads.

 

 

What do you mean, “It doesn’t feel like Christmas in Florida?”

Posted on December 9, 2011 By

Well, ho-ho-ho, it’s that time of the year again!

It’s the time of the year when nearly all Floridians are hailed by their temporary Yankee neighbors with the traditional greeting, “Geez, it just doesn’t feel like Christmas inFlorida.”

(You can if you’d like alter that slightly, of course, to say, “Geez, it just doesn’t feel like Hanukkah inFlorida.” But truth be told, most Jewish folks are smart enough and reasoned enough not to associate the great triumph and resilience of the Maccabee children with bone-crunching cold, life-threatening conditions and enough snow piled on the roof to cave it in, crushing the Christmas tree…or Menorah, whichever.)

But if you’re a Floridian, born or adopted, you’ve no doubt run across at least one moron every year who will complain about the warmth of the December sun, the gentle Gulf breeze, the tranquil surrounding nature, the moderate nights filled with jasmine and remark that, somehow, Christmas just shouldn’t be spent in such idyllic and temperate latitudes.

They seem to think Christmas just “isn’t right” unless they are buried under three feet of snow in sub-zero temperatures, battling frozen water pipes and hoping to the Baby Jesus electricity doesn’t go out again because they only have enough fire wood for one more night.

I blame Currier & Ives. I also blame Charles Dickens. Perhaps these folks would be happier at Christmas if we didn’t have child labor laws, environmental regulations or systematic care for the infirm. I don’t know.

Some folks just can’t bear the thought of a Christmas Day sail on warm waters or a Christmas Eve stroll on the beach at sunset. They are, frankly, demented.

This malady can even run in one’s own family. My very own Florida-girl darlin’ daughter used to think she just had to be in the mountains of Western Carolina at Christmas because, who knows, it COULD snow!! (Okay, let’s recall…two Christmases ago stranded without power for three days under nearly four feet of snow, couldn’t even get there last year because of the snow…hmmm…she may have changed her mind.)

When she was a child, I took great delight in pulling out the globe (remember those?) and drawing a line west, right along the latitude of old Bethlehem to…to…to…well, I’ll be darned, NOT to a point that would ever be immortalized in a Currier & Ives print.

Nope. Old Bethlehemis just a skosh north of the 31st parallel, which places it on exactly the same latitude as one of the many hick towns in South Georgia (USA) between Jacksonville and Savannah.

And given the moderate, Mediterranean-warmed climate of Palestine, I’d be willin’ to guess there were palm trees just outside that stable on that miraculous night.

Maybe the cattle were lowing because they feared getting bopped on the head by a falling coconut. No, probably not.

In any event, the point is Christmas is not about cold and snow and sleigh rides and stealing someone else’s maple syrup. Nope. Christmas is about the greatest gift every given: the reconciliation of humankind with our God. That, my friends, can be celebrated any-dang-where you feel the spirit – especially in Florida.

Bein’ born to a Florida-girl mother but raised as a mountain child, I can testify that it was never, really, truly Christmas until we reached the orange groves and palm-lined yard of my cracker grandparents. Suckin’ down a fresh cut temple orange or playin’ football on that spongy Floratam lawn was always the single best annual gift. It was the Floridian my soul.

So, the next time some crank wanders up to you and says something really stupid like, “It just doesn’t feel like Christmas in Florida,” you just turn to them, smile and hand them a Honeybell orange. They’ll be tradin’ Currier & Ives for Clyde Butcher before you know it.

 

It’s the child…

Posted on December 20, 2010 By

ChristmasChild

DOWN YONDER, FL. – The wedding on the lawn was just about complete.

The bride and groom completed their vows and the minister was just about to pronounced them husband and wife.

Before he could finish his words, however, dark clouds soared overhead and sheets of rain sent everyone scrambling for shelter.

Those who sensed what was happening cranked up their mobile phones to check the radar.

Sure enough, a rapidly developing sub-tropical system was forming overhead. It was the type of system that could grow quickly and deadly. Radar indicated a very strong and powerful squall line developing to north and breezing quickly to the south.

It was time to take cover. Everyone dashed off to secure their homes.

One father dashed for the nearest building. He thought is 3-year-old daughter was in tow. But reaching the safety of the building he realized she was not with him. In panic, he tore back out into the driving rain. She was nowhere to be found she was lost and in danger. His heart sank, his blood raced through his veins. He weighted the options. He woke up.

Dream interpreters can have their say but I suspect a dream of that kind would not be uncommon for a father whose favorite little Florida girl was spending her first night away from home.

She was safe, he was sure in his deepest heart. She was only at her cousin’s house, after all, and would be back before the day was out. Besides, she was having a ball.

But still, that fear of losing a child is a horrific and painful one.

Earlier in the night, after returning from a Christmas party, the father sat in the dark, staring at the unlit Christmas tree and pondering how much life was missing when that little girl wasn’t in the house. It just didn’t seem right to turn on the Christmas lights and waste the energy when she wasn’t there to enjoy them.

Some people insist Christmas can’t be enjoyed unless it’s cold outside. Floridians know better.

But a more complex truth may be that Christmas can’t really be enjoyed unless the children are there to enjoy it.

This is not written to depress the grandparents who, for whatever reason, won’t be able to relish in the joys of Christmas with grandkids.

No, this is meant to encourage us all to seek out the children and find, in their eyes and songs, that unparallel mirth that bursts from little children at Christmas. Watch children marvel and the Christmas light. Hear the twinkling voices of children as they sing, “Silent Night.”

You may recall that Christmas began with a child.

Born in a stable and laid in the manger, the very most humble of circumstances, that child was a gift to this violent and power-hungry world; a gift intended to relieve the world if its suffering and meanness; replacing those evils with peace, love and hope.

Granted, that may have been quite a burden to place on the soft shoulders of a child but only a child has the chance to fulfill the promise.

Each child carries within him or her the steadfast love, the trust and undaunted yearning for peace and universal understand. It is only through the eyes of a child we see the hope for peace and harmony and the promise of a new and brighter day.

Until each child of the world has a chance to realize her or his own promised of hope and peace the Christmas story will remain unfinished.

A little known narrative describing the birth of the Christ Child was probably penned at least 200 years after his birth. It is called the Arundel manuscript of a Latin Infancy Gospel:

“The child himself, like the sun, shone brightly, beautiful to see…because he alone appeared as peace, soothing the whole world,” according to the writer.

As long as there are children the hope and promise of that first Christmas will never end.

‘Tis the season…for greed!

Posted on November 29, 2010 By

Greed

Whoa…that was close!

Just barely made the deadline but, by golly, we had the Black Friday tree up and the energy-burning house decorations emblazoned across the landscape just in time to outdo the neighbors.

You have to love this time of year: crowded capitalism at its finest, throngs of maniacal consumers fighting over the latest widget shown on the TeeVee Box. It’s a magical season. I’m happy to report my billfold is already empty and my credit cards are already maxed out.

I’m doing THIS season right: making sure every dollar gets placed right into the hands of the corporations and the billionaires who own them!

Thank you, Baby Jesus, for giving us a reason to give more wealth to the folks who already control 85 percent of it.

Wait…what?

That’s NOT what Christmas is about? Are you sure? Not what Hanukkah is about?

Didn’t God give the Maccabee children the miraculous gift of oil for their lamps? Didn’t the rich kings give the Baby Jesus gold, frankincense and myrrh? Aren’t we supposed to repay that holy largess by giving back to the rich corporations for allowing us to live in their world?

Isn’t this the season for overwhelming stress, filling our bodies with processed sugar and chemicals, overextending our credit and keep up with the Joneses?

The Rev. Jim Wallis, founder of Sojourners, writes in his latest book, Rediscovering Values, writes about the need to replace the maxim, “greed is good,” with, “enough is enough.”

“This is a challenge because the advertisements we see telling us to consume are often fundamentally at odds with the teachings of Jesus,” writes Brother Jim.

“The relentless pressure of advertising tells us that ‘there is never enough,’ and that you should worry constantly about what you eat and drink, what you wear, whether your future is secure, and more. But Jesus says the exact opposite. They say, ‘Worry all the time!’ But Christ says, ‘Don’t worry!’”

What is he, some kind of Christian?

Yes, SOME kind of Christian.

Sojourners actually has a new gift-giving guide. Find it here.

Or, maybe, find gifts to help sustain the planet here. Simplify the holidays here.

And if you really want to start thinking, the Advent Conspiracy.

Finally, a two-year old video is even more relevant today: