First Person Limited

This is the fourth Sunday in Advent. We continue our search for the Christ Child.

Long ago, an astronomer saw the prediction that in a far eastern country a king would be born. The stars also told him that this king would be so special, his impact on the world so great that his birth would be a momentous event. To witness the birth of such a king would be an honor indeed. The astronomer and two traveling companions set out on their journey with the hope of seeing this new born king and presenting him with gifts.

We can only imagine what the trip was like. Across language barriers and through countries at war, where traveling might be dangerous. We are not sure how long it took them to finally reach Judah, charting their course through the desert by the stars, much as sailors did on the sea.

When they came to Jerusalem, they paused. Surely they were near — the star was brighter. Someone in the palace would be able to direct them to the exact spot where the birth of a King would take place.

They left Herod with the distinct feeling the new king’s life was in danger. They continued their journey and in a short time they found … a stable, a peasant carpenter, his young wife and a baby. This humble setting, the birthplace of a king? Surely this was not what they were seeking.

Has this happened to us? We follow the star of what we know is God’s leading and when we come to the end … there’s a stable. And we wonder, why did we try so hard if all we find at the end is a barn, and hay and animals and … other stuff that’s found in a stable?

We don’t know what thoughts went through the minds of the wise men who stood gazing at the baby in the manger, but somehow they knew they had found what they were searching for. This was the king. The star had led them to the right place.

When we follow a star only to find at the end something less grand than we expect, we need to look closely at the stable, look in the manger, find Christ. Chances are, we are right where God means for us to be.

Today is the Third Sunday in Advent.

She gave birth to her first son, wrapped him in cloths and laid him in a manger — there was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2:7

The innkeeper in Bethlehem is not actually mentioned in scripture; his presence is only assumed. He has been added to the cast of Christmas pageants, either to give one more child a speaking part or to add drama to the story (as if it were needed!). Joseph stands at the door and says, “Please!” The innkeeper says, “No room.”

Hordes of people had flocked to the little city of Bethlehem. To what can we compare it? Any major city airport during inclement weather. New Orleans after Katrina. Only the rich or very lucky find hotel rooms. Displaced persons wander about, carrying their belongings, finally to spread out and rest anywhere they find six feet of space. This was the picture that night long ago.

Maybe Joseph stepped around a courtyard full of sleeping bodies to approach the door of the inn. He surely asked for accommodations, explained Mary’s situation. Perhaps she had felt the first nudge of contractions and it was evident she would have the baby soon.

Who’s to know what motivated the man in charge of the hostel that night. He didn’t invite all these people to come crowding into town. He would see nothing of the new tax. It was not unusual for women to die in childbirth, even in the best of conditions. What would he do if that happened? The innkeeper took time from his hectic job, maybe even stuck his neck out, to show consideration to someone in need.

Jesus’ birth was marked by a stranger’s act of compassion. As was his death. We don’t know Simon of Cyrene’s state of mind when he was asked to help Jesus — but he did it. He put aside his plans for the day and lifted the heavy cross from Jesus’ shoulders and put it on his own. And walked the last few steps to Calvary with our Savior.

Two men who moved away from the business of their daily lives to help someone. We know hardly anything about them, their deeds are mentioned only in passing. But they were part of something great.

Hopefully when our opportunity comes to perform and act of kindness, we will put aside our own concerns and do what God would have us do.

In 1975 I made my first trip from Oklahoma through the southern states of Arkansas, Tennessee and Alabama. It was springtime and everything was lovely and green. Especially beautiful was the ivy I saw growing on the trees along the highway. When I commented on this to my friend, who was a native southerner, she said, “That’s kudzu! It’s a parasite that will destroy the trees. We’ll come back this way some day and there will be no trees, just kudzu. There’s no way to kill it and it just takes over everything in its path.”

Kudzu was brought to the United States in 1902 to be used in soil erosion control. Farmers were paid $8.00 an acre to plant it. A few years later, they discovered that when they no longer wanted a field of kudzu, it was very difficult to get rid of. It not only thrived but it became aggressive. Cutting it back seemed to make it more hardy and it turned out to be practically impossible to uproot.  In 1970, kudzu was declared a weed. This beautiful plant that was welcomed into our environment had become a nuisance to be reckoned with.

So, the question is, do we have any kudzu in our lives? Perhaps there is something that at one time appeared beautiful, useful and beneficial, so we invited it into our lives. But now, the hold it has on us is too strong and destructive. We feel we are being consumed and that soon our life will be nothing but kudzu.

The good news is that even though getting rid of kudzu may be impossible for us, with God anything is possible. God can get rid of all the parasites in our lives. And he will. All we have to do is ask.

What better time to ask than during the Advent season, as we prepare our hearts to welcome the Christ Child.

Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26 NIV

Today is the first Sunday in Advent.

During this season there is a question we ask, often just to make conversation. It is, “Are you ready for Christmas?” Usually what we mean when we ask this is, “Have you finished shopping?” Or, “What are your holiday plans?”

Our talk is full of the preparations that are going on in our lives. We wouldn’t neglect putting everything in place for the traditional family Christmas we all enjoy, even though at times it seems stressful when we think of all the things we must accomplish by December 25.

Advent is the time in the Christian year meant for preparation, but this preparing has nothing to do with buying presents or baking pies. This is the time for us to ready our hearts for the coming of the Christ Child. So often this is seen as something we need to do in addition to all the other activities that are going on. The result is that we may feel pressure at one more thing we need to do to get ready for Christmas.

Could it be that if we keep our hearts and minds in a state of constant preparedness that the love, joy, wonder and splendor of the Christ Child might come to us at any time, not just at Christmas?

Oh Holy Child of Bethlehem, be born in us today.

November has been a busy month in my writing year: Two book signings, a meeting with my critique group (Central Arkansas Writers) and editing an Advent booklet (see previous post). All these activities while still making a bit of headway on my novel-in-progress, An Ordinary Day (working title).

Another exciting event is that R.I.P. Emma Lou Briggs, the play presented last summer at Center on the Square Theater, is now published in book form.

Visit my author’s page at Amazon.com for a look at all my books.

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004HL64I0

This time of year I am in Thanksgiving/Advent/Christmas mode.

It’s one week until Thanksgiving Day and while I am finishing my Thanksgiving shopping and decorating my Thanksgiving tree and wrapping Thanksgiving presents and addressing Thanksgiving cards (read facetiously), my head is full of thoughts about Advent and Christmastide.

The observance of the Advent season began somewhere near the end of the fourth century. It was a period of 40 days leading up to Christmas and was a time of fasting and prayer. Now it lasts about four weeks and is intended to be a time of reflection and preparation for Christians. This year, the first Sunday in Advent is November 27, making it a season of 29 days until Christmas Day.

For the past 10 years I have edited an Advent devotional booklet for my home church, First United Methodist in Beebe. This means that throughout the Thanksgiving week I am collecting, writing, editing, formatting, copying and stapling.

Members and friends of Beebe FUMC write short devotionals to be included in the book. These can be either poetry or prose and often are Christmas memories or insights about a particular scripture. The writings are then assigned to a certain day, one reading for each day in Advent.

Though this is a busy time for me, I enjoy it and look forward to reading my friends’ thoughts about this blessed time of year.

You will hear more about this as the season progresses.

I don’t really ‘do’ the para-normal genre, but I thought that on the weekend when we all did a bit of time travelling (and gained an hour) the review of this movie would be appropriate.

Since this film was released in 2009 I have heard many mixed reviews ranging from ‘a beautiful love story’ (a fellow writer), to ‘I can’t believe I wasted a date night on this,’ (a co-worker mom of three).  I just had to put it in my Netflix queue and spend a Sunday night watching it to see for myself.

The title of course tells you a lot. Henry, played by Eric Bana, is a Chicago librarian who has a gene that causes him to travel back or forward in time. He can’t control his exits and entrances, but seems to have a little aura before he takes off.  (He also must have a job that allows him to drop out of sight for unknown periods of time.  We might suggest a large electronics store where the employees do the same sort of disappearing act.)

One day in the library Henry meets Clare, played by Rachel McAdams (from The Notebook).  She knows him already because she met him when she was a child and he an old man. But he doesn’t remember meeting her because he hasn’t done it yet.  Are you keeping up with this?

She knows about his life and loves him anyway. They marry and she tries to adjust to his unusual comings and goings.  His travels are rather dangerous because, having no control, he may land in a public place totally nude.  Clothes don’t travel through time — a false premise we have been led to believe from watching the Back to the Future series.

Okay, it’s not a bad movie if you are good at suspending disbelief.  This screenplay was taken from the 2004 best seller written by Audrey Niffenegger.   She is a visual artist and writer who lives in Chicago. Find out more about her work at audreyniffenegger.com.

Author Caron Guillo says An Uncommon Crusade is a work of fiction based on a mix of fact and legend.

The setting for this story is the Children’s Crusade of 1212, when thousands of children were released by their parents to follow 12-year-old Nicholas of Cologne on a crusade to Jerusalem. The group is largely dependent on the generosity of the townspeople as they travel through small hamlets and larger cities preparing to cross the Alps.

Illness, accidents and other misfortunes plague the group as it makes its arduous trek through the mountains. When they reach Genoa, the crusade fails and the story continues  to follow the three main characters.  Hugo, Simon and Elizabeth, teens who each have their own reasons for following Nicholas: searching for faith, forgiveness, or adventure.

As with most quests, there is much heartache along the way as the friends are separated by death, slavery and tragic circumstances. Though this is not marketed as a historical novel (the genre is Christian fiction) the extensive research that went into the writing of this novel makes it ring true to this particular period of history.

Caron Guillo is a former world history teacher from Texas, who became interested in the Children’s Crusades and chose this setting for her book.  She has crafted a story that is gripping and emotional.

I met Caron at an event introducing this book, so I have one of the early editions. Since that day, An Uncommon Crusade has won the 2011 Next Generation Indie Award for Religious Fiction and received a new cover design. This novel is available at Barnes and Noble and Amazon.com.  Read more about Caron Guillo at her website www.caronguillo.com

This week it was my turn to teach the Sunday School class I attend.  We have been studying the wisdom literature this quarter and the reading for the day was Ecclesiastes 12:1-7.  Not exactly uplifting scripture for someone facing another birthday in a few days.

This section begins with the familiar, “Remember your creator in the days of your youth…”  Most of us have heard that read. Usually the speaker pauses at that point to admonish teenagers to get serious about their spiritual lives.  

Speakers stop there because the rest of the passage is a downer. “…before the days of trouble come … when you say ‘I have no pleasure in them.’  … (when) strong men are bent … when one is afraid of heights and terrors in the road … the grasshopper drags itself along and desire fails…”  And on and on.  The writer of Ecclesiastes (Solomon maybe) did not view old age as the golden  years.

This literature (Adult Bible Studies, Cokesbury, The United Methodist Publishing House) is written for all adult classes past college and one of the questions suggested for discussion was, “How do you view old age?” I had to answer for myself and the other women in the room, “Up close.”

My advice to myself  — and to anyone else who has reached their biblical allotment of three score and ten — is to take the counsel the curmudgeonly writer of Ecclesiastes gives to the young and use it for  yourself.  

To paraphrase from chapter 11:9-10, “Rejoice, senior, that you have attained the age of wisdom, and let your heart cheer you in these days of reflection. Follow the inclination of your heart, pursue those ambitions put on the back burner. Banish anxiety from your minds; don’t worry about being old. Youth is rather over-rated anyway.”

From “In the News” column, Arkansas Democrat Gazette, September 30, 2011:

“Hugo Chavez, Venezuela’s president who had surgery to remove a cancerous tumor from his pelvic region, followed by chemotherapy, said his latest medical checks have been stellar but declined to say what kind of cancer he was diagnosed with, telling reporters: ‘What do you want me to tell you? —I’m not going to gratify you. A malignant tumor. What more do you all want? — They extracted it.’”

I can’t remember agreeing with Mr. Chavez before but when I read this I said, “You go, Hugo!” The international media has become just too nosy. Here in the United States, the Freedom of Information Act is used, not so much as what it was intended for as to delve into things that are just none of our business.

Are we better off knowing all the gruesome details? Do we need to hear Michael Jackson’s slurred speech during his last hours? Do we really still wonder if Elvis and James Dean are dead?  Does anyone realize how old they would be if they were alive?

Christians are admonished to choose carefully what we spend our time and energy on.  ”Finally, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things. Philippians 4:8 NIV (Italics mine).

I find listening to news reports a stumbling block to thinking positive thoughts.