*”Grant Us Peace!” (In Latin, Dona Nobis Pacem) “When Peace like a River attendeth my Soul…” “Peace be with you..” “Give Peace a Chance..” Peace that passes all understanding–Phil.4:7
We spend our days rushing, working, worrying and stressing, always hoping for a time of peace, believing that if we work hard enough, rush fast enough, hope fervently enough, we will be rewarded with peace.
But this is contrary to the Biblical pattern. God has already given us a blueprint for peace, rest, and contentment. And it doesn’t involve working harder! It involves trusting more. And that involves waiting and resting. God wants us to work, yes, but He also wants us to rest, to seek times of solitude, meditation, and silence. This is not a suggestion given to a holy few–it is a principle to be practiced by all of us. God wants to give us peace for the asking—not for the earning.
When prayer becomes a priority, and not just something that happens in our “spare” time, or after all the “important” things get done, we should find that peace is a by-product of our pursuit. Taking time for prayer gives our mind a new focus, calms the rhythms of our heart and body. It forces us to step aside from the frantic pace of life– to lift our eyes (or close them) away from the flickering light of the tablet or phone, to sit (or stand or kneel) still and apart from whatever task is beckoning, and listen, not to the blare of the radio or TV or street noise, but to the underlying sounds of life–heartbeats, breathing, the slow ticking of a clock, or the retreating rumble of the world. We close our eyes to the distractions of “to do” lists and calendars, comparisons and competitions. We set our hearts on all that really matters in the long run.
Most importantly, through our time spent in prayer, we access the source of peace– The Prince of Peace! And it is this same Prince of Peace who will “grant us peace” if we just ask. You may not be able to set aside hours for blissful meditation. But if you ask, God will help you guard your time, and help you find those few precious moments of prayer and peace– peace with Him, peace that comes from Him, peace that passes all understanding.
I know several people (myself included) who are facing stressful situations on a daily basis– some are fighting cancer, some are caring for aging parents, some have rebellious teens, some have lost jobs or are in danger of losing their home, some are fighting depression or addiction, others have lost close family members–some are facing multiple stressors every day.
Stress is a killer and a thief. It robs us of energy, time, and focus. And it isolates us– as we focus on our stressful surroundings, they begin to close in on us, hemming us in and keeping others out. We long to be stress-free–sitting on a beach or lying in a hammock or on a chaise without a care in the world– no worries, just peace. And we pray for it.
But peace isn’t the absence of stressful circumstances. I once met a man who was, in fact, lying on a chaise by a poolside, a sandy beach less than 100 feet away– palm trees and gentle breezes relieving the searing heat, icy drinks available at a whim. He had nothing to do but soak in the heat and sea air, relax, and enjoy his day. He had all the time and money he needed to find perfect peace– but he didn’t have it. He was bored, and restless, and dissatisfied with life. He couldn’t lie still, and he found no wonder in all the beauty and peace all around him.
Peace doesn’t come by denying stressful circumstances, or running away from them, either. Ask the next three people you meet how they are doing, and they will likely answer, “I’m fine.” We know they’re not really “fine”– they know that we know they’re not “fine,” yet neither of us tells or demands to know the truth. Stress isn’t contagious, but we avoid sharing it. I don’t want to hear about your stress, in case it reminds me of my own; you don’t want to share your stress in case I judge you as being weak or whiny. We learn from others around us that “success sells.” “Fake it until you make it,” as some would say.
We can’t get peace by any means in our own power– we can’t manufacture it, legislate it, demand it, buy it, trade for it, or wish it into being. In fact, the more we try to chase after it, the more elusive it becomes. Peace is a by-product of faith and trust– the result of a relationship in which circumstances are not borne or understood only by us but shared with someone all-wise and all-powerful. Our circumstances don’t need to disappear, but we must believe that they are not insurmountable or permanent, and that we are not forgotten in the midst of them.
You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you. (Isaiah 26:3 NIV)
Peace comes from knowing and sharing with the Prince of Peace. He doesn’t take away our circumstances (though he can, and sometimes will remove some of our stressors–even against our will). Most of the time, Jesus will take away our blinders, instead. He will turn our focus away from our own pain, loss, frustration, or confusion, and allow us to see Him working around us, in us, through us, in ways that put things back in perspective.
The peaceful scene I described above– the beach, the pool, the gentle breezes– I was in the same location and enjoying every minute of it. This in spite of numerous bug bites, an almost certain case of sunburn, and a very short time before I had to return to the snowy Midwest, and the normal stresses of my ordinary life. But, while I knew they were waiting for me, I wasn’t concentrating on them. And even while I enjoyed the beauty of the beach, I wasn’t focused on the sun or the sand, or my tan/burn progress. I was enjoying the memory of working with rescued children, of meeting amazing foster parents and missionaries, and of seeing what God was doing to heal and bring peace to lives that had been ravaged. I was seeing in the beauty of my short stay at the resort the promise of what God has in store for me throughout eternity. THAT will be perfect peace– not shortened by time, not diminished by restlessness or dissatisfaction, or denial.
Welcome to a New Year! And everything that lies before us is shrouded in mystery. But is that a cause for fear or excitement?
That is the question that weighed heavily on the mind of Ebenezer Scrooge in “A Christmas Carol.” Scrooge carried resentment and bitterness from his past, and isolation, anger, and disdain about the present. And he greatly feared a future he could not manage or define.
After visits from the Ghost of Christmas Past and the Ghost of Christmas Present, Scrooge was left emotionally off-balance and fearing the worst. Finally, he was visited by the third mysterious spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. He already knew the sad fate of his friend, Jacob Marley. Would this spiritual visitor show Scrooge a dire future already fated, or merely shadows of what might be? And the Ghost delivers strange sights– predators gleefully trading in the belongings of the recently deceased, heartless business acquaintances discussing the funeral arrangements of one of their fellows, and grieving family members in the household of Bob Cratchit. But what was his own fate? Where was Ebenezer Scrooge in the Christmases yet to come?
The answer comes in a cemetery, where Scrooge sees a newly-dug grave and a stone bearing his own name!
Death always seems to come as a surprise, even when we know that we will all die someday. Our own death may haunt us, but usually from a safe distance. It will come someday. Once we are old. Once we are weak, and sick, and ready to rest. Once we have achieved our goals and fulfilled our purposes. But that’s not how death works. It comes in its own time, not ours. It comes, not as an expected closure, but as a rude interruption of our hopes and dreams.
Ebenezer Scrooge, forced to deal with his mortality, and the legacy of his past and present, realizes that life is not what we forge out of our own plans and our strength of will or our hard work. Life is a gift. But life is not a given. Life has a purpose, regardless of the purposes and goals we bring to it. And that purpose has to do with giving and receiving other gifts– generosity, hope, forgiveness, encouragement, time, fellowship, and Love.
This Ghost never speaks to Scrooge with words. Instead, he shows Scrooge a world in which Scrooge has no more chances to give or receive gifts. He has chosen to hoard his wealth, his time, and his heart– and the result is that he will die alone, unmourned, a useless shell of rotting flesh. His fear and bitterness have brought no comfort to anyone, and have left the world a colder, icier, more horrible place.
But there is hope, even in this haunting experience. Scrooge wakes from this night and realizes that he is ALIVE! The Ghost has given him a great gift– the chance to live– the chance to experience connection and hope, joy and creativity, excitement and generosity.
What will this new year bring to US? Can we face an uncertain future with hope? Can we accept the gift of Life– even with its pain and struggle– as a priceless opportunity? Can we reach out to others, even knowing that we will sometimes be rejected, betrayed, and used? Can we strive to make things a little better– in our homes, our communities, our place of work, and in the wider world?
Scrooge did, and so can we! “A Christmas Carol” does not finish with a cold gravestone– even though we must know that Scrooge has to die one day. The story ends with music and light and gaiety, as Scrooge embraces the mystery of his own future and learns to live in hope and charity with those around him.
As we step into the future, may we also embrace the Life that God has given us, the joy of sharing time with others, and the expectation of good gifts that God will continue to give us in the future. As Tiny Tim says, “God bless us, everyone!”
My prayer is that you will experience excitement as we all take the next steps– God’s spirit will light the way; God’s word will be a lamp unto our feet (Psalm 119:105). God’s glorious gift of Christmas– the coming of Christ to be our Emmanuel, our example, and our Savior–will be the carol that we sing as we travel into the unknown!
God always hears our prayers. He always has an answer. But it isn’t always the answer we expect. Sometimes, God answers, “No,” or “Not yet.” Sometimes, He answers in ways that seem confusing and mysterious, and even ironic.
I remember as a young teen praying for a woman in the community who had lymphoma. In treating her condition, the doctors, trying a new experimental treatment, did permanent damage to certain muscles, leading to a progressively debilitating condition. She died a slow and painful death, unrelated to her original condition. Where was God? How could He listen to our prayers and give such a cold, cruel answer?
But God sees a bigger picture than we do. This precious woman had incredible faith and grit. She had spent years working diligently to help others and teach God’s Word. She continued her work, even in the midst of her health struggles almost to the end of her life. What might have caused some people to turn their backs on God made her more dependent on His Grace. She faced her pain and weakness with grit, strength, and hope in God’s eternal healing. God’s answer wasn’t to rescue her from the suffering, but to be present in it with her. And her example lives on to this day.
Some people would read about this and be dismissive. What a cop-out! What a delusion! But there is much more to her story than her own condition or even her response. One of the men in our church really struggled with God’s seeming indifference. He wrestled with his own faith for many months while watching her get weaker and weaker. But through his struggle, he grew in his conviction that God was present in every situation. He was inspired to do short-term mission work, partly as a result of this growth. Knowing that God would be with him, he threw himself into loving people from a different culture–different climate, different language, different work ethic– and helped build churches and other facilities for those in need. Many people were helped, inspired, and encouraged because of his dependence on God– a dependence enhanced by facing his own questions and doubts.
Family members and community members, watching her struggles, were inspired to pick up where she left off– working and teaching and reaching out to others with zeal and joy–following her marvelous example. Today, some of her family members are leaders in their churches, raising the next generations of witnesses to God’s mercy and power. Doctors, having failed in her treatment, learned from it– a difficult lesson for all, but a lesson, nonetheless. Her joyful attitude (before and during her struggles) inspired me to direct the Vacation Bible School program at our church for a few years, and to teach Sunday School when I moved to a new location. And those are just a few of the ways I have “seen” God’s answers to our prayers. God did not give our friend the physical healing we wanted. But her struggles– and her response of faith and perseverance–inspired a ripple effect far beyond her own pain and disappointment. And she has received the ultimate healing! Her pain, intense and unjust as it was, was only temporary. Her life, her legacy, her joy– they all live on!
How often do we look at a situation and think we know what is “best?” How often do we feel that God’s answers are “wrong?” Wrong timing, wrong outcome, full of hardship or pain– how can this be God’s “perfect” will for us? There was nothing about this woman’s situation that was comfortable; no reason to see a good outcome for her or her immediate family. She died. She experienced pain, with no earthly justice. Her suffering was undeserved and unmitigated. She refused to sue the hospital or the doctors– she wanted them to be able to continue to learn from her experience so they could help others NOT to suffer in the future. But her life was shortened and made grueling in the process, and she received no payout, no financial compensation, no symbolic reparation for her sacrifice. We received no “miraculous” answer to our prayers. It seemed at the time that the more we prayed for healing, the worse her condition became. We continued to pray anyway, knowing that God DID hear us, and God’s ways were not our ways– they are always better. Even when His ways seem like silence.
This all happened several decades ago, and many of the “answers” from our urgent prayers are still hidden from our eyes. Many of our questions remain unanswered. But God’s will is still active, even in these tragic circumstances. Someday in Heaven, it may be revealed to us exactly how God used this woman’s life and struggles to bring about blessings to hundreds of other people– causing them to grow strong through her weakness, drawing them to His healing and wisdom in a world of pain and confusion.
I have lost many friends to cancer. I pray for each one, and the outcomes are never exactly the same. Some go into remission, only to have the cancer return three or four years later. Others get amazing healing– surgeons are astonished and perplexed by the rapid or miraculous disappearance of cancer cells. Some go into fast decline and die almost immediately after their diagnoses. And each situation impacts people in different ways, showing God’s power and presence for those who are willing to look for them. Prayer isn’t a magic formula for immediate and total healing. Prayer is lifting up a situation that is beyond our control or understanding and trusting that God has a perfect plan beyond what we can see or understand. Cancer cannot take God by surprise. Death cannot outwit or overpower God. We live in a world where Evil can overwhelm us; our bodies can betray us; our future can be lost in the fog of uncertainty and suffering. But God is present– not only IN our suffering, but ABOVE and BEYOND our suffering.
We don’t pray for our friends and loved ones to suffer. We want them to be healed, to be free of pain and grief; to be at ease and blessed with abundance. This is normal; it is good. God wants to bless us. It doesn’t bring Him joy to watch us suffer. But He also wants us to see the blessing of His presence, His wisdom, and His power. Sometimes, we can’t see that as we look around. Sometimes, we need to look up! Even from a hospital bed (see John, chapter 9). Even from the flames of suffering (see Daniel, chapter 3). Or from the belly of a whale (see Jonah, chapter 2). And we will find that God is there.
everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind;
nothing was gained under the sun.
Ecclesiastes 2:10-11 (NIV via biblegateway.com)
The persistent theme of Ecclesiastes is that everything done “under the sun” is meaningless–wisdom, riches, hard work, morality, pleasure–it all ends in death and futility. In the end, the author (presumed to be Solomon, the wisest king who ever lived) concludes that the whole “duty” or purpose of mankind is to fear God and keep His commandments, because God will judge every deed and hidden thought.
Sometimes, it can be difficult to pray when life seems “meaningless.” I was reminded recently of a time when my life seemed pointless and pathetic. I was nearing 40, single and childless. I had a good job, and enough to live comfortably, but I wasn’t a “success” by many people’s standards. I owned a car, but it was getting old. I did not own a home, and I hadn’t taken a vacation in years (although I had traveled for work, and counted that as something). I had a cat. I was a single, frumpy, middle-aged cat lady. And when I prayed, I often asked, “Why, God?” And when I read Ecclesiastes, I got depressed.
But Solomon is writing about life from a distinctive point of view. He sets out to find a purpose for life “under the sun.” When I was looking at my life from that perspective, everything DID seem meaningless. It was meaningless for me to save up for a house if I had no one to leave it to; meaningless to pursue higher career goals or travel, when I had no one to share it with.
A very wise co-worker noticed my depression and dissatisfaction. She pointed out that purpose, happiness, and satisfaction came from God, but that I had to choose my perspective. God had given me life, and purpose– a job, shelter, comfort, family and friends. I could grump and grouse about what I didn’t have, or the meaning I couldn’t find– OR I could trust that God would reveal meaning and purpose as I kept pursuing Him.
Instead of asking, “Why, God?”, I began asking other questions. “What do You want me to continue doing?” “How can I serve You right where I am?” “Who can I bless and encourage, today?” And even, “How can I use these experiences and feelings to honor You?” My prayers included fewer gripes and regrets. I stopped asking “what if?” and started asking, “what next?”
God stepped in and offered me the opportunity to change my circumstances. It didn’t happen right away, but after a few years, I became a wife, a stepmother, and a grandmother. I left my job–I made even less money, and I had to learn new skills and deal with new challenges, but I also learned more trust in God’s wisdom and timing. What also happened was that I gained a renewed sense of purpose and a new focus. I wasn’t doing things “under the sun,” but “under the Son!” Somehow, I had forgotten to look for my meaning and purpose in being a child of God and had turned my eyes inward.
It seems like a bone-headed mistake in retrospect, but, then again, even Solomon wasted some of his life looking for meaning and purpose in all the wrong places! And those years were not meaningless or wasted. I learned patience, perspective, compassion, and wisdom to pass on to others who may be in similar circumstances.
Recently, my husband and I decided to close up our shop. We have to reevaluate our circumstances– will we have to sell our store? Our home? What will happen as we near retirement? I will have to look for another job, and I will probably have to learn yet another set of skills. And our family dynamics have changed a lot, too. My mom passed away last year, and my mother-in-aw has had some health issues. Our son’s family is dealing with divorce, so we don’t get to see the grandchildren as often as we used to. But I’m ready to ask, “What next!” My purpose and meaning don’t come from my circumstances. God’s plans are bigger and better than mine, and I can trust that He has a purpose in every circumstance I face.
“Father, today, may I focus on the meaning and purpose that can only come from seeking You. You are the author of purpose, of wisdom, and of wholeness. And as You reveal Yourself to me, help me to reflect and share Your wisdom and character to others. Amen”
I have several friends who are really great at photography– some have made it their profession. One of the hallmarks of a great photograph is “framing.” I’m not talking about choosing a frame for a printed photograph, but choosing natural elements that draw the eye to a focal point. It include perspective, focus, lighting, and even composition– which elements make it into the picture, and which ones are excluded. After all, photos, by their very nature, only show part of the whole reality. Even a panoramic picture cannot show everything at once, and the photographer chooses where s/he wants to place the focus and framing.
We have a tendency to “frame” our lives in a similar way. We focus on only part of the whole reality of life. We choose to “frame” our present situations, our past memories, and our future hopes– even when they are out of focus! We can do this in both positive and negative ways. At one point in my life, I felt I had found “the perfect job” as a youth services librarian at a local public library. It was pleasant work that made use of my skills, talents, and interests. It included a mixture of social interaction and self-directed projects. I loved the job, my co-workers, our patrons, the work environment–it was a pleasure and an honor to work there.
Library Story Time
But I was viewing my job (and myself in that job) through a frame. There was more happening in the wider picture of my life and development. After more than a dozen years there, things had changed. I still loved the work, and while some co-workers retired or moved, and the staff changed a bit, the work environment was still mostly peaceful and friendly. I still found the job challenging and rewarding, and I had gotten to know people in the community over the years who truly felt like family. But, as my role changed, so did some of the relationships. As new leadership came, so did new directions and new priorities. And I had become “comfortable”– and somewhat complacent as well.
In time, it became clear that my “perfect” job was not only not perfect, but becoming a source of frustration, stress, and unhappiness. And there were other things happening that demanded my focus. I was preparing to become a wife and move to a new community. My mother’s health was deteriorating, demanding more of my time and energy. My future husband wanted to open a shop– someone would have to work there, and we couldn’t afford to hire anyone, even part-time. That meant working a second job at the shop while trying to maintain my efforts at the library.
As the “frame” of my life shifted, I felt confused, even angry, with God. Why would He allow something so good to turn sour? Why did I feel like I was losing myself? Didn’t He want me to be happy and fulfilled? Didn’t He want me to use my talents to help others?
Now, after a few years’ perspective, I can see some of the “rest” of the picture. I had begun to see myself through the lens of my job, and I was depending on that vision, rather than focusing on what God was doing in, around, and through my life. There was nothing “wrong” with my job, per se, but God needed me to be willing to let go and move in new directions. Now I am preparing for another change, as we have decided to close our shop, and I will look for the next step– a new job, new opportunities, new challenges.
My nation just went through a contentious election. Many people are upset at the outcome, while others are relieved. But just as it happened with my job, I need to be careful NOT to depend on politics and governments to be “saviors.” No political party or platform or policy can “fix” sin and brokenness. The “system” isn’t the root of the problem. As individuals, we need to submit ourselves to the authority of those in government, but only AFTER we submit to the authority of God. HE is the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, and His power exceeds that of Presidents, Cabinets, Congresses. Our nation must prepare for new challenges, as well as new opportunities.
I write all this, knowing that there are people going through much more traumatic “shifts” in their lives– the changing of a government administration, with its unknown power and potential can be worrying; the loss of a job, and a change of career is a disappointment. But it is not the same as the loss of a spouse or child, the sudden loss of a home to fire, or an unexpected diagnosis of cancer or other health issue. But the principle is not so different. God’s ways are eternal. Sometimes, we see the uncertainty and trauma in front of us, or surrounding us, and it becomes a frame for all of our thinking and emotions. But the “picture” is much bigger than just our immediate situation. God calls us to trust Him in all circumstances, knowing that His love for us is not just for this life, but for all eternity. Whatever we (or our loved ones) go through here is but a snapshot– one of millions that God will put together in a Glorious and Perfect collage.
Moreover, God gives us the privilege of listening to us when we call out to Him. We need not be afraid to ask, “Why this?” or “Why now?” or even “Why me?” But when we ask, we need to be willing to shift our focus, and remember where our Hope is Built– On Christ the Solid Rock. Even the sweetest “frame”– our career, our relationships, our identity, our politics, our happiness in this life– cannot compare with His faithfulness and eternal Sovereignty.
It struck me just the other day how similar these two words are in English. To serve is to work for; to perform a duty; to labor on behalf of someone else. A servant performs duties for a master; a worker serves his or her employer; I serve my customers as they visit my shop. To “deserve” is to work in such a way, or to show such qualities as to merit reward (or punishment).
Much of our Christian life here on earth is centered around service. I serve at church; “I serve a risen Savior;” even this blog is a way of serving– sharing the Gospel and what I continue to learn about prayer. Praying for others is a way of serving them.
But much of our culture centers around what we “deserve.” Even our service is often qualified and judged as being more or less worthy than other service. If I serve on a board of directors, it is considered more worthy, more deserving of respect, than if I serve as a janitor, a junior clerk, or a night watchman. If I serve in a public capacity as an elected official or an ambassador, I am considered more deserving than if I serve as a humble citizen. We see some positions as deserving of more money, more power, more respect, and more worth.
But that is NOT the way God sees our service. God gives good gifts, not because we “deserve” them, but because it is His nature to give. God sends the sunshine and the rain to everyone, regardless of whether they have “earned” a sunny day or “deserve” lovely flowers to grow in their garden. Similarly, when God allows for natural disasters, they affect both “good” and “bad” people in a region. Occasionally, God will show His divine favor by sparing a group, as He did with the Israelites in Egypt. The Egyptians were victims of ten plagues, while the Israelites, living in the land of Goshen, were spared. But that wasn’t because the Israelites “deserved” to be spared, nor that every Egyptian was “deserving” of punishment. Rather, the horror of slavery and oppression of the Israelites caused God to show His righteousness and His power to save those who were being unjustly treated. (A lesson our world has yet to fully learn!) And God promised Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob that He would be with their descendants forever, saving them from those who would oppress them. But in daily life around us, innocent people often struggle, while “bad” people seem to prosper. Why doesn’t God give us what we “deserve?”
What we “deserve” in this life is the consequence of our sin and rebellion against God’s holiness–and that is DEATH. A God without any mercy would simply allow for those consequences to take effect without any opportunity to repent or to experience His Blessing. God does NOT give us what we “deserve” here on earth. However, He notices our “service”– our desire and capacity to do good–at every level. He does not give higher value to those who serve in positions of power or authority– in fact, Jesus taught just the opposite:
25 But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. 26 It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant,27 and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, 28 even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Matthew 20:25-28 ESV
Prayer often seems like a humble service– we often pray alone or in small groups. Very few people are praised for being “prayer warriors,” and many pray without anyone even knowing about it. Except God knows. He hears and He delights in our prayers. We don’t pray in order to “earn” God’s favor, or anyone else’s approval. But we pray to a God who gives us far more than we “deserve.” And we serve a God who delights in even the humble acts we do for others. A God who has promised us Eternal life with Him in Heaven! Not as a reward for our service; not based on our worthiness or self-righteousness, but based on the worthiness of Jesus! Heaven is our reward for His great sacrifice. We don’t “deserve” it, but we can rejoice in it, even as we serve quietly and humbly here on earth.
It’s that season of the year, when several companies have their annual “Christmas Parties.” Some companies, in an effort not to offend any of their employees, investors, etc., have stopped calling them “Christmas” parties– they are “holiday” parties or “year-end” celebrations. In fact, at one place I worked, they stopped having any parties for the employees, claiming it was a “bad look” to “waste” money on such nonsense! Bah, Humbug!
But company Christmas/Holiday parties have a tendency toward the silliest and least meaningful ways of celebrating what this season and its holidays are all about. Often, the festivities involve a cash (or open) bar, some sort of anonymous gift exchange– white elephant or “secret Santa” with a spending limit of $5 or $10 dollars, and an ugly sweater contest.
And there is an entire industry predicated on the modern tradition of the “ugly” holiday sweater. Garish, loud, often bedecked with pom-poms, tinsel, or even battery-operated flashing lights, such sweaters can cost a minor fortune. They get worn once a year (twice if you have to go to a second party with a spouse, friend, or as a chaperone). And, while I don’t want them banned, I think they represent some of the worst excesses of our modern first world. They serve no higher purpose than to draw attention to bad taste and mock the core values of Christmas, Hanukkah, and other seasonal holidays. They are about tacky and fleeting entertainment, at the expense of higher virtues.
I’m not trying to be a Scrooge or a Grinch. The holidays should be a time of joy and laughter. But is a tacky sweater really the best we can come up with? Is it in the top ten best ways to enjoy a season of miracles, love, light, giving, and hope? (I feel the same way about the focus on drinking– waking up hungover and sick; not being able to remember the end of the party– how is this “fun?”)
In our effort to have “Christmas” without “Christ” or Hanukkah without miracles; in our efforts to erase God from the celebrations of HIS goodness, we have created a level of fake celebration that echoes the story of “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” We’re walking around with ugly sweaters, each more elaborately ugly than the one before, considering it a triumph to be the biggest fool in a forest of foolishness.
Imagine giving that ugly Christmas sweater to someone who was homeless and had no warm clothes. Would it make you laugh to see someone in those circumstances wearing your once-a-year indulgence? Would your ugly sweater bring hope and healing to those who are refugees this season? Do you wear it when no one else can see it? The sweater isn’t about the season. It really has nothing to do with the meaning of the Holidays. It’s about impressing people with your willingness to stand out; your ingenuity in finding an uglier sweater than anyone else; it’s about YOU.
What would happen if, instead of an ugly sweater contest, seeing who can drink the most before passing out, or a white elephant exchange of worthless gifts, companies celebrated with worthwhile activities– building community ties, honoring achievements, or maybe even reflecting on miracles in our midst? What if our celebrations were less about empty amusements and more about reflecting on what is genuinely worth celebrating–health, friendships, family, hope, and purpose? They might be less amusing, but they might also be more memorable and meaningful.
There’s nothing “wicked” about ugly sweaters or white elephants– but they are becoming symbols of the kind of “Christ-less” Christmas that offers mild entertainment, but no hope for the dark days of a long winter. They are some of the symbols of excessive economic wealth in the midst of emotional and moral poverty. Naked and empty entertainment, pretending to offer light and satisfaction, but settling for glitter and gluttony.
Today, I’m going to wear a sweatshirt to keep warm, and I’m going to spend some time with my family– building memories that will last much longer than last season’s ugly sweater! And I will spend some time thanking God for the sweatshirt, my grandkids, and for the incredible gift of His Son–the real meaning of this season of love, gifts, miracles and hope–our real reason for celebrating Christ-mas!
I can still remember as a small child of 3 or 4, after my Dad came in from mowing the lawn, climbing up and snuggling close to his chest to listen to the beat of his heart. Dad smelled of new-mown grass and honest sweat, and his heart was beating—thumpity, THUMP-Thump, thumpity THUMP-thump–I could almost feel it beating through his chest. It would start out racing, and gradually slow to a steady Thump-thump Thump-thump.
Looking back, I marvel at my Dad’s patience. Here he was, fresh from working on the lawn, hot, sweat-covered, and exhausted, only to be met with a wiggly child, intent on chattering, and interrupting his precious “relaxation” time. But as I wiggled, Dad’s tender arms would come around me, and both of us would become quiet and just enjoy being together, listening to the beat of his heart. They were precious moments.
My dad worked long hours at a mind-numbingly boring job. He worked for a large pharmaceutical company, but he wasn’t a chemist, or an engineer. He was a “bagger.” His company produced anhydrous citric acid for industrial and commercial use. As the name implies, citric acid is caustic, even in powder form, and Dad had to wear special gloves and shoes, plastic glasses with side shields, and other gear to protect his skin, hair, and eyes from the possibility of burns. He worked, sometimes 16-18 hour shifts (overtime, or time-and-a-half) at a station in a small, hot room. His job was to fit a bag to the end of a chute, push a button, and stand there as 50 or 100 pounds of citric acid filled the bag. He then carefully took the bag off the end of the chute and moved it to another machine, where the top edge would be stitched closed. Finally, he would lift and carry the full bag to a conveyer belt, so it could travel to the shipping room to be loaded on to skids and sent all over the world. Sometimes, he would cover someone else’s shift in the shipping room, loading the bags onto the skids or even loading the skids onto trucks or train cars, but most of the time, he was alone in a drab, overheated, powder-filled room.
I once asked my father how he could stand to do what he did every day. It was hot, heavy, boring, and mostly thankless work. Fit the bag, push a button, move the bag, push a button, move the bag again, and start all over. Always on his feet, always lifting his arms. No one to talk to; nothing to watch or listen to but the machinery around him. But my dad was content. He didn’t find his identity in his work, although he was proud to have a good-paying, steady job. He was thankful for his ability to be consistent and productive. He was proud of his good attendance record and his dedication. But he wasn’t married to his work, and he wasn’t working for money or fame or status. He was a Christian first, and a husband and father next. He was as steady as his heartbeat. Always reliable, even-tempered, trustworthy– solid.
My father worked at the same company for over 28 years (in fact, the company changed names twice while my dad worked there!). When he retired, we threw him a surprise birthday party/retirement party. But Dad’s heart was wearing out. All those years of work were taking their toll Dad spent two years of retirement enjoying some travel and relaxation, but his last two years were spent in and out of the hospital with surgeries and complications, physical limitations, and chronic pain.
Finally, the day came when Dad’s heart broke. He had been in the hospital overnight, and the surgeons had done all they could. They had “zapped” dad with the defibrillator. They had done compressions until his breastbone was broken and each compression was pressing shards of bone into his chest and close to his lungs. One last time, I stood, with my mom and sister, watching Dad’s heartbeat on the monitor. It was steady, but so, so weak. Dad’s once-solid arms were too weak to reach up from the bed; his blue eyes were dim, and he struggled to breathe. We said a last prayer and told Dad that all was ready for him to go Home at last. And his heartbeat faded to a straight line on the monitor.
Dad’s heart was huge in life– steady and strong, patient and solid. His faithfulness gave us all a glimpse of our Father’s heart in Heaven. Dad was a humble man. He was a man who sacrificed the life he could have lived to take on a thankless, boring, demanding job so we could have nice things and opportunities as his children. He also took the job so that, after those long hours, he would have time off during the week, so he could come to some of our school programs, and take family day-trips, and just “hang out” with friends and neighbors in the community. He mowed our lawn, but he also mowed lawns all around the neighborhood– for shut-ins, elderly couples, and those who were sick or didn’t have a mower. His heart was not only strong, it was incredibly tender. Dad cared about the little things…he loved children and animals; he cried for the National Anthem, and at prayer meetings. When I read about Jesus welcoming little children, it made perfect sense, because it is exactly what my own father would have done and said.
Dad wasn’t perfect, of course. He was only human. He made mistakes. And he died. But he made a profound impact on those who knew him, and he lived a life that drew people to Faith and Hope in Jesus. The Bible doesn’t make clear whether or not we will have “hearts” like our present human hearts when we are with the Father in eternity. But I know my Father’s Heart. It’s even better than my Dad’s. Some days, even here on earth, I can hear its steadfast, solid rhythm in the greetings of neighbors, in birdsong, or on the wind. And I can stop wiggling, and just be held in His tender arms.
4-5 Celebrate God all day, every day. I mean, revel in him! Make it as clear as you can to all you meet that you’re on their side, working with them and not against them. Help them see that the Master is about to arrive. He could show up any minute! 6-7 Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. 8-9 Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies. 10-14 I’m glad in God, far happier than you would ever guess—happy that you’re again showing such strong concern for me. Not that you ever quit praying and thinking about me. You just had no chance to show it. Actually, I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am. I don’t mean that your help didn’t mean a lot to me—it did. It was a beautiful thing that you came alongside me in my troubles.
Philippians 4:4-22 (The Message)
I have been blessed with the opportunity to do a couple of short-term mission trips. I am not a “Missionary” in the traditional sense. I have not left friends and family behind to move to a new culture or live among strangers for years to spread the gospel. I basically took some working vacations, met dozens of wonderful new friends, learned about the work they are doing in their community, and joined in helping them with a couple of small projects (painting, sorting donated clothes and shoes, working in the school, helping organize a library, putting together scrapbooks, etc.) I was able to go back and visit five times over a dozen years and watch as the children grew up, the school added on, the staff changed, and the mission work focus became broader and more community-focused.
Two things about visiting the mission field– you meet amazing people and you hear amazing stories. Some people will become life-long friends. Some people teach you and touch you in unexpected ways, even if they cross your path only on a single day. Some stories make you re-evaluate all the things you take for granted. Some stories leave you laughing or crying along with your new friends. Some just leave you speechless.
One such story happened on my first visit. We went on a “field trip” to see a developing community not too far from the border between the Dominican Republic and Haiti. Hundreds of Haitian refugees had flooded into the D.R., and at least two mission groups from the U.S. and Canada were working to provide housing, healthcare, and schooling for homeless families. Several teams of workers had already started building small cinder-block houses, a couple of bath houses/bathroom facilities, etc. in an area that used to be a sugar cane field. The houses were serviceable, and had basic electricity and running water. However, the water was only good for washing, not for drinking. The houses were close together, with very small plots for gardening, but the land was rocky and dusty. There was a centralized “administration” building, with a small clinic and other basic community services, a small elementary school, and a small chapel. Most of the homes had an electric light bulb hanging from the ceiling, but no other appliances. Meals were still cooked over a small open fire in the main room of the house. Cots or bed rolls took up most of the other room. The bathrooms were in the communal bath houses.
Not the actual location, but this is not too different from what the first houses were like– very basic.
I set the scene above so the circumstances are clear. These families were happy to be alive, and to have any shelter at all, but they were not living in luxury, nor were they moping and in despair about their condition. Part of our visit was to bring awareness to what efforts were already underway, and what needs were still outstanding. Medicine was scarce; many of the families had at least one person who was HIV positive, and many of the others had issues resulting from malnutrition and untreated childhood diseases. Jobs were hard to come by– the sugar cane plantations and rum factories had a history of exploiting their workers, and very few other jobs were open to Haitians who either didn’t speak the language or had no work permit/official identification. The mission organizations were not set up to provide jobs, income, or food and water. They were surviving on donations, which were sporadic and usually consisted of non-perishable items like clothes and hygiene items (toothpaste and soap).
Into this scene, the mission had received a princely donation of several hundred pairs of flip-flops. One of the bigger department store chains in the states and an overstock of black and white flip-flops– different sizes, but all the same style and colors. There were enough that everyone in the community could have a new pair of shoes! However, after the shoes were distributed, the administrators noticed that people were still going around barefoot. Very few of the people were wearing the new shoes. Finally someone asked if there was a problem with the shoes.
The answer they received is the heart of the story, and a lesson I have never forgotten. The people were very grateful for the shoes. But their greater need wasn’t for shoes. God had heard their prayers and supplied their need. Several enterprising members of the community had bundled dozens of pairs of flip-flops, carried them nearly eight miles into the nearest beach-front town, and found a spot along the beach where they sold the shoes to foreign tourists. Other groups did the same thing. Using the money from the sale of the flip-flops, they bought bottled water and produce at other roadside stands, carried them back to the community. This way, such items would be readily available while they waited for crops to grow in their gardens or a closer source of drinking water could be found.
On a later trip, we visited this community again. There were flowers, gardens, and two or three “colmados” (Dominican-style corner markets), which had grown out of two or three houses being torn down and reassembled. The community was flourishing. The “administration” center was still used mostly as a clinic and community meeting center, but some of the community members were administrators there. The school and church had grown, and there was now an arts and crafts center; community members were making candles, necklaces, wood carvings, and other items for sale at the beach, where they now had an established booth. God had used hundreds of unwanted, discarded shoes to supply an opportunity for people to work together and build a thriving community. There are still issues– health issues, domestic issues, economic issues– plaguing this settlement. But it is now “home” to hundreds of families who once had nowhere to go, and it is a beacon to surrounding communities, giving hope to hundreds more in the area. And, while some of the community members still go barefoot, most have shoes– shoes they chose and bought and paid for with their own money!
I’ve told this story before, because it is such a strong lesson in looking for and making use of every opportunity. God’s gifts are never wasted on us IF we choose to see them as gifts. Even our abundance– our “leftovers” and “overstocks” can benefit others in ways we might never imagine. And our efforts– even small ones taken in the midst of struggles– will pay dividends when we trust in God to supply our true needs.
Pursuing Prayer 