On Christ and Happiness

Especially around joyful holy days like Christmas, Christians tend to forget that, first, unbelievers can feel quite happy and fulfilled without Jesus in their lives—and second, that believers can still face troubles; Jesus doesn't always chose to remove them.

Our happiness on earth isn't why Jesus came!  Rather, God knew we needed rescuing from a danger we couldn't yet see—a pit that we'll fall into after this life if we don't ask Jesus to bridge the gap our willfulness has made between us and God, a rescue which is made possible by Jesus' death and resurrection.

Although humanity's eternal safety is Jesus' priority, that's not to say that He doesn't also bring happiness, salvation, and "peace on earth."  Having Jesus as our eternal savior does give us a joy and a peace that the happiest unbeliever can't imagine!  But that happiness isn't based on circumstances.  Rather, He gives us a different perspective; He makes us a new creation, transforming our nature to better resemble His.  We are saved from slavery to the world and to our own passions (though slave habits can be hard to break).  In addition, people can often point to other, specific things God saves them from here and now: alcohol, fear, grudges, a disease, a natural disaster, etc.

I suppose these observations of mine boil down to Jesus' words that "'In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart; I have overcome the world'" (John 16:33).  Thanks be to God, and Merry Christmas!

On Winter—with Haiku

        Although snow teased us as early as October this year, just yesterday the air felt so comfortably warm that I shed my jacket in the afternoon! Unfortunately, winter reasserted itself last night with a cold front that dropped the temperature below 0 degrees Celsius, and then mocked us further by adding a freezing drizzle and a strengthened breeze.  (Despite this, I still just saw a student walk outside wearing a t-shirt, shorts, and flip flops. Incomprehensible!)

       Despite the recalcitrant weather, much can be—and has been—said in favor of winter and the cold: 

• "It helps one appreciate the other seasons more." 
• "If it didn't get cold, we wouldn't know the joys of hot drinks and piles of blankets."
• "The earth needs to rest up for spring."
• "We have fewer dangerous or annoying critters and bugs around."
• "Winter reminds us of our mortality."
• "Winter helps us practice our faith in eventual renewal and new life."
• "Snow is beautiful."
• "Snow forts!  Winter sports!"
• "Christmas traditions!  Generous spirits!"

       
        Etc., etc.  But in such an wretchedly chilly season, I find poetry of winter interests me more than prosaic praises of the same.  Haiku, in particular, seem an eminently suitable form since their content is often seasonal to begin with.  On that note, I hope you enjoy my poetic efforts and commentary below:

plaintive eyes—

frozen water bowl

stuck to the porch

        Most readers will sympathize with the frustrating problem of an immobile, frozen bowl, but I like when the meaning of a haiku such as this is a little ambiguous and when more than one interpretation may be accurate.  This could imply, for instance, that an animal wants water, that a person wants another to un-stick the bowl, or that someone wants the heavens to warm up the world.

 

stargazing

at the Milky Way—

what is Man…?

        Stargazing isn't strictly a winter occupation, but with such long nights and often clear skies, it does seem suitable.   

 

reaching for

Orion’s belt—

it wouldn’t fit anyway

        A haiku prompt regarding celestial bodies made me contemplate several ideas related to reaching for the stars when, in one of those odd leaps the brain sometimes makes, Aesop's sour grapes fable came to mind, resulting in the previous haiku.

“celebrating"

Christmas for three months running—

stuffed ad nauseam

        Literally and figuratively!

avoiding the stores:

shameless consumerism

and scarce word of Christ

        Suitable for Christmas and Easter both, ne?

glass nativity—

God's plan to save 

our souls

        I like the implied comparison of this poem, as well as its extended metaphor: Glass may be transparent, but one can't see what's inside it unless one looks past the exterior.  Where are you looking this Christmas season?




         If you have any prosaic or poetic words of your own about winter, feel free to add them in the comments below!

On All Saints' Day

On Christmas, we see Santas and nativities.  On Easter, we see bunnies and crosses.  On Halloween, we see witches and pumpkins...  Wait!  No memorial candles or martyrs?  Whatever happened to celebrating All Hallow’s Eve?  Why doesn’t that Christian celebration have equal footing with the secular or pagan ones?

It may help to understand that All Saint’s Day dates from the early 600s (Wikipedia, “Halloween”), perhaps originating as a Christianized harvest or pagan festival—though not Samhain or Calan Gaeaf, as is commonly supposed, which are first recorded in the 10th century and from which we get a lot of our current Halloween practices of dressing up and extorting treats from others (Wikipedia, “Samhain”).  

The Catholic church still celebrates deceased saints during All Saint’s Day on November first, followed by All Souls' Day on November 2nd.  The former is a Holy Day of Obligation (a day other than Sunday when Catholics must attend mass).  The Eastern church, however, commemorates the saints on the first Sunday after Pentecost, and has done so since the late 800s (Wikipedia, “All Saint’s Day”).  Protestants, if they observe it at all, remember saints both past and present.  
As the United States is peopled with more Protestants and unbelievers than Catholic and Orthodox Christians, perhaps it's no wonder most Americans do not observe All Saint's Day or see advertisements in churches and stores.  Maybe we’d hear of All Saint’s Day more if we were Catholic or lived in a country that had it instituted as a national holiday, but for most, All Saint’s Day seems no more than a footnote in the history books.  A few Christians might buy flowers to put on graves.  The rest either stay at home with the porch light off, visit the local Judgement House, or gear their children or grandchildren up as princesses or superheroes to gather goodies from the neighbors.

It’s hard to say why the secularized pagan elements of Halloween have remained and the Christianized elements have just about disappeared, unlike at Christmas and Easter.  I suspect it may have to do with the way dressing up and collecting candy is a lot more fun than remembering all the loved ones we’ve lost.  

If Christians insist on observing such secular practices, I do wish more would dress up like penguins or Totoro instead of ghouls or criminals.  Why don’t more people decorate their yards with benevolently smiling pumpkins and shiny unicorns instead of scary fake corpses and large spiders?  *Shudder*

Though as for that, should Christians celebrate such a secular—and previous pagan—holiday at all?  Sure, few people still engage in pagan worship on Halloween, but how innocent are the secular practices, really?  Should we urge our brothers and sisters in Christ to celebrate All Saint’s Day instead?  Or would it be better not to celebrate either one?  

Scripture never tells us to remember the dead—nor Christ’s birth nor death, for that matter.  Scripture doesn’t forbid non-biblical celebrations, either.  We like to have things to celebrate and to mix up our routine.  If it’s wrong to celebrate a secular Halloween, is it also wrong to celebrate such events as Thanksgiving and Veteran’s Day and Talk Like a Pirate Day?  If it's wrong to celebrate All Saint's Day, is it also wrong to celebrate Christmas and Easter and Pentecost?

I believe this falls under the “disputable matters” category Paul spoke of in verse one of Romans 14.   He states in verses 5-11, 

“One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord. The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord, since he gives thanks to God, while the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord and gives thanks to God.  For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself... we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living.

“Why do you pass judgment on your brother?  Or you, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God; for it is written ‘every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God’” (ESV).

and later,

“For if your brother is grieved by what you eat, you are no longer walking in love. By what you eat, do not destroy the one for whom Christ died… So then let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding… [W]hatever does not proceed from faith is sin” (v 15, 19, 23b).

I suppose that the real questions, then, are “Does my style of observing a particular holiday glorify God?”  “Do my actions trouble or edify my brothers and sisters in Christ?" and "Do my actions present outsiders with an accurate view of the Truth?”  

How would you answer?  Put your comments down below.

On Mothers

As Mother’s Day approaches, it seems natural to consider mothers’ contributions to society--and to us, personally.  Mothers reading this may be thinking, “Yer darned right!” or “About time!”  However, I’m too aware that other readers, even if they’d never dream of saying it aloud, might be thinking more along the lines, “Do we really need another ode to mothers?  Haven’t we read enough sappy, idealized effusions of gratitude?  Sure, mother are great and we wouldn’t be here without them, but enough’s enough!”  

To them, I would respond, “So, if you thank a person once, you never need do it again?”  Sure, some “odes” come off a bit too strong or fluffy, and thanks given to other people’s mothers may not mean as much as thanks to mothers we know, but I would caution readers against ever taking anyone (mothers, fathers, teachers, construction workers--whoever) for granted.  Mothers in particular seem to get a lot of negative feedback--from their kids who had to wait ten minutes to be picked up from school; from every Tom, Dick, and Harry who likes to put in their two cents: “if those were my children...”; as well as from Freudian psychologists who blame parents for every perceived abnormality in their adult children.  Negativity even comes from the mothers themselves, who, like many women--mothers or not--tend to put burdens on themselves to be perfect and acceptable to society and/or God--yet who can attain perfection in this Fallen form?  They’re doomed to failure.  Thus, mothers need positive feedback where it’s due--not just to help them maintain a healthy self-image, but also because, if we think about it properly, they usually deserve praise and thanks more frequently than we give it.

Furthermore, what’s wrong with repetitious or belated thanks?  Sometimes we’re struck anew with gratitude for a particular kindness and feel it bears repeating months or years later.  (“I’m so glad you encouraged my education.”)  Other times our gratitude is late in coming--it may require hindsight to bring it to light, or even the experience of children of our own.  (“Thanks for not strangling me during my Terrible Twos.”)  A national holiday helps remind us to do what we ought to be doing all along.  It’s only a pity that we need the reminder at all.

Carole Denton and Laura Coon

             To the two mothers I’ve been blessed with: thanks for raising my husband and me.  Thank you for wiping our noses and our bums--for feeding us, clothing us, transporting us, and nursing us through illness. Thank you for sacrificing all the time you could have spent on your own pursuits to be there for us, to cheer for us, and to hug us.  Thank you for loving us despite being occasionally--okay, sometimes more than occasionally--displeased with our behavior.  Thank you for encouraging our education, introducing us to new experiences, and allowing us opportunities to explore music and sports and the arts.  Thank you for your patience and continuous efforts to curb our willfulness, our selfishness, and our tempers. Thank you for teaching us (sometimes by example) that it's okay to make mistakes, and that we should take responsibility for them.  Thanks for training us to value what’s good and godly, even if we don’t always behave as well as we know we ought.  Thank you for praying for us every day.  Thank you for teaching us to love others who may not seem very lovable.  And finally--most importantly--thanks for giving us your example of following Jesus and for encouraging us to follow and love Him, too.