Post 18-The Light

                                   

John Writes

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November 10, 2016

 

Hey Dana

            I was thinking about this on my way home from work today. I had on Christian radio and one of the hymns or contemporary songs was dealing with Jesus being the light of the world. I began to think about that.

            Three scriptures come to mind:

            2 Cor 4:4 (NIV) The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.

            John 1:1-5  (NIV) In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

            Matt 5:15 (NKJV) ¹⁵ Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. 

            Surprisingly, when I was in the U. S. Coast Guard, I used to get seasick. For nearly three of my four years I was stationed on ships. While in the Gulf of Mexico, the ship might be out three or four days and I was seasick the entire time. But I had to work through the sickness (that's for future post). In the Pacific, when we were out for more than three or four weeks at a time, thank goodness that after the 2nd or 3rd day, I would get over it. But I digress....

            How often have we seen a Snoopy cartoon where he's sitting on top of his dog house, typewriter in front of him and the caption read, "It was a dark and stormy night."? Because I was in the Coast Guard, and their motto is "You have to go out, but you don't have to come back," many times my ship would be out on dark and stormy nights. The night would be black, often with rain beating down. The wind would be literally howling through the mast's rigging. Because I was on buoy tenders, they were round bottomed ships and they would roll. Oh, how they would roll. They would often lean over to a 45 degree angle (and sometimes more) on one side, and then roll to 45 degrees on the other. From port to starboard and then back from starboard to port, for hours on end,...rolling. Going outside was often forbidden because if you went overboard, you'd never be found. Walking inside down a passageway was a struggle to keep your balance even while holding on and to keep from being tossed hard into the steel bulkheads.

            On nights like that when I was an underway watch stander, sometimes something would happen. I would be looking out into the pitch blackness, often trying to shield my eyes from the wind and rain beating against me. Suddenly in the inky blackness, there would be an instant pin prick of light. Or, was there? It wouldn't come back so I'd think I was imagining something. But then, there it was again. Yes, it was a light, somewhere out in the howling blackness. As the ship struggled to make headway, in time, the light would take on character, that is, it would regularly flash a pattern and in time, a rotating shaft of light would seem to proclaim to the stormy darkness, "You can't shut me out! I'm the lighthouse light and this is the way home, or to safety." No amount of all encompassing storm and darkness could curtain the light. It just plain overpowered the darkness. Maybe at first when the light beam was just a pin prick, the storm might hide it...temporarily. But the closer we'd get to the harbor, the brighter and stronger the light shaft became.

            I like the way The Message Bible does John 1:2-14, but especially the section on Light.

 

_1-2 The Word was first,
the Word present to God

God present to the Word.
The Word was God,
    in readiness for God from day one.

_3-5 Everything was created through him;
    nothing—not one thing!—
    came into being without him.
What came into existence was Life,
    and the Life was Light to live by.
The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness;
    the darkness couldn’t put it out.

_6-8 There once was a man, his name John, sent by God to point out the way to the Life-Light. He came to show everyone where to look, who to believe in. John was not himself the Light; he was there to show the way to the Light.

_9-13 The Life-Light was the real thing:
    Every person entering Life
    he brings into Light.
He was in the world,
    the world was there through him,
    and yet the world didn’t even notice.
He came to his own people,
    but they didn’t want him.
But whoever did want him,
    who believed he was who he claimed
    and would do what he said,
He made to be their true selves,
    their child-of-God selves.
These are the God-begotten,
    not blood-begotten,
    not flesh-begotten,
    not sex-begotten.

₁₄ The Word became flesh and blood,
    and moved into the neighborhood.
We saw the glory with our own eyes,
    the one-of-a-kind glory,
    like Father, like Son,
Generous inside and out,
    true from start to finish.

            Dana, God is trying to tell us, this is Jesus. "...the Life-light. He (John) came to show everyone where to look, who to believe in. John was not himself the Light, he was there to show the way to the Light."

            When I think of the scripture above, 2 Cor 4:4, how the god of this world, Satan, has “blinded the minds of unbelievers so that they cannot see the light of the gospel....”, I could easily get discouraged.  But then through faith, when I think of family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, or others who are blinded by Satan, I know that God’s light can overcome any blindness. I keep looking to God through prayer, interaction when possible, and His word to bring in the Light. Just yesterday, I talked with someone who has a family member they have been praying for for about 30 years to see the Light. That person was continuing to trust that God’s light would in time break through the darkness and their loved one would turn to Christ.

            Or, I think of Matt 5:15 and I am convicted when I think how long I’ve been hiding God’s lamp under a basket. Whatever the reasons (excuses?) I’ve been doing this, it is time to draw upon God’s love and then step out and begin letting the Light shine while there is still time. 

            Oh God, help me to stop hiding Your Light under a basket. You're giving us (the Church in America) and me another chance. Help me, us, not to squander this, but to take the Light to as many of those around us as possible so that it can light the way to the Safe Harbor.

            The light from the lighthouse could not be overcome, no matter how terrible the storm. Once I saw it, I knew that that shaft, or beam, of light cutting through the darkness was not just the way home, but my way home, and the way to safety and refuge of the harbor. Unfortunately, many once vital and significant lighthouses have been abandoned by the Coast Guard and turned off because of more modern electronic means of navigation. Today's mostly non-seagoing populous just doesn't understand the significance of what I've written. Even I had almost forgotten how all powerful light is because of the darkness Carol and I've been going through both recently and for the past several years. Perhaps I can explain the power of the light this way. (Warning: Kids—DO NOT try this at home.) Get a box of stick matches and take one match out. At night, go into an inner room in your home with no windows or light of any kind. Put a rolled up towel across the bottom of the door so no light can enter. Try to get total darkness. And then, strike the match. It flares up and then burns. LIGHT. And the darkness can't shut it out.

 

            Once again, Jesus spoke to the people and said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows Me will never walk in the darkness, but will have the light of life." Jn 8:12 BSB

 

Yours for the Harvest

John

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John Adds an After Thought

 

            Some years ago for The Rotarian Magazine, I interviewed Jennifer Smith for an article. At that time, the 28 year old was building an amphibious plane she could use to fly missionaries and their supplies around the Amazon. What initially caught my attention about this woman was she was a graduate from a Midwest Christian college, who went into the Coast Guard upon graduation. Not only that, but she was stationed as an officer on the very same ship I was on  while I was in Alaska. When I was in the CG, women had very limited active roles, and were never assigned to a ship. When asked why she would do such a thing, she answered, “I wanted to know if my faith was real.” 

 

           But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin. 1 John 1:7 NIV

 

          

                                                           

 

Post 17-Christmas 1979

                               
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Note: This first appeared as a column in the West Chester, PA weekly newspaper Last Edition, the December 20, 1985 edition. I was a columnist for this small weekly.
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            The movie “Miracle on 34^th Street” is a holiday classic and was recently shown on television. In the movie Santa Claus was concerned that people were too busy and forgetting the real meaning of Christmas. The little girl, actress Natalie Wood, did not believe in miracles or Santa Claus.  That was in 1947.


            I was born in 1947. When I was young, for some years I grew up believing in Santa; and therefore, I guess in miracles also.  In our house, even on Christmas Eve, there was no tree, decorations or packages. My father worked late and came home after my sister and I were sent up to bed, wondering if Santa would come again that year. Then mom and dad would stay up most of the night wrapping packages, trimming the tree and decorating the house. In the morning when we came down, it was as if a miracle had happened and Santa had come again!


            At some point I learned that Santa was mom and dad.


            Also, as I grew older and into adulthood, a common refrain continued to be people were busy and had forgotten the real meaning of Christmas. Sound familiar?


            And somewhere along the way, I must have stopped believing in miracles.


            Then during the Christmas of 1979 something unusual happened. I had no place to stay that year because I was a student at a nearby college. The dorms were to be closed for the holidays and the students either went home or had to find a place to stay. As are most college students, I was without money and could not afford a room in a motel, nor could I afford to travel to one of my sisters. One evening shortly before school closed for the semester, someone knocked on my door and asked if I would house-sit for them while they went home to visit  family.


             Would I?!


            They had a little apartment over a storefront in Phoenixville, PA. There was only one problem. Because they were going to be away for the holidays, they had not decorated their home. No tree. No tinsel. No packages. Nothing. There was some snow that year and I would look down to the busy streets, brightly decorated for the holidays, brushed in white and then turn away from the window to an empty apartment. I received one package that year, but I think I opened it before Christmas morning.


            Finally Christmas morning arrived. Rather than hurrying as I used to as a child, I took my time getting dressed to go and sit in the living room. TV did not appeal to me that morning. When a person is alone, even eating is not exciting.  I cannot remember if I turned on the stereo. I did not have a car to go visit someone or get out for a drive. So I picked up a book and read a story, the Christmas story.


            That story was also a holiday classic; although it did not take place on 34^th Street. It was an old story of a baby born in a barn because his parents were not rich and all the inns were filled. Since this happened years ago, there were a lot of shepherds watching their flocks. They saw a great light and an angel talked to them. This miracle so excited the shepherds they searched and found the baby boy. Afterward they were still so excited they left the barn and told lots of people.


            It was not a fancy story I read the morning of Christmas in 1979. If I had had packages, family to visit or a car I might not have taken the time to read the story. I learned about a miracle, and today I accept it by faith.


            The television Santa Claus was concerned that people were getting too busy and forgetting the real meaning of Christmas. I hope this Christmas, you, the reader, have packages to open and family to visit, but that you also have time to read that other miracle. The angel told the shepherds, “For unto you is born this day...a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.”


            The angel finished by saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”


            Isn’t that the heart’s cry of most people today?
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John Adds Now


            That Christmas started a tradition which has continued to this day. After my wife and I get up on Christmas morning and have a cup of coffee, I get out one of our Bibles and read the Christmas Story. It doesn’t grow old or out-of-date year after year (or within 45 minutes of being opened). It is as fresh today as when I read it back in 1979, or when it happened over 2000 years ago. While I still, sometimes, watch the movie “Miracle on 34^th Street” and smile at the television Santa Claus and secretly hope that there are still kids today who believe in Santa; today I shout “Hallelujahs” that God so loved the world that He sent His only Son that whoever believes on Him shall not perish but have everlasting lasting life. And I tell people that while there may not be a Santa Claus, miracles still happen and they come from God.


            If you or you and your family want to start a lasting tradition, here are the Bible verses that we read each Christmas that tell that old, old story of the Savior who came from glory.


            Isa 7:14;   Isa 9:6-7;   Isa 11:1;   Micah 5:2;   Zech 9:9;   Matt 1:18-25; 

            Matt 2:1-12;   Luke 1:26-55;   Luke 2:1-20;   John 1:14;   Gal 4:4-5

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John Adds
            I sent a copy to Dana to review, and he responded.


Dana Acker                                         Thu, Dec 15, 2016 at 7:54 AM


     I like it John.  VFCC days.  I moved there in June of 1979 to work as a carpenter in the maintenance department. So many memories.  By the way, at whose house did you sit?  I never heard that story until just reading it here.  Good job!  Don't forget to add the Scripture references at the end.  Merry Christmas!


     Speaking of which, I had to go to the drug store to pickup something on my way home the other day.  When I checked out and turned to leave, the cashier said, "Merry Christmas!" I'll have to admit I was somewhat taken aback--not in a bad way, like having been offended, but just shocked to actually hear it spoken in a place of public commerce.  It made my day, and I smiled like the Cheshire cat and responded in kind to her.  There's a line in a Bruce Cockburn song that goes something like, "...kick at the darkness till it bleeds daylight." The drugstore cashier bled in a little light. 


     I try to say Merry Christmas to everybody these days, whether they are known Christians to me or not.  The surprising thing is, no one has openly repudiated me for saying it.  I do believe you were right; perhaps it is the heart's cry of most people. They may not be able to articulate it, and on the surface even oppose it so as to go along to get along, or perhaps they just forgot about it as they grew up and had to take their place in modern society.


     There's something about the howl of a wolf that gets a dog's attention--puts a look in their eyes seldom seen by normal sights and sounds.  There's something about Celtic music that awakens something in me on a deeper level, more so than most types of music.  DNA memory?  I don't know, except for the German blood I get from my Dad, all the rest of my ancestry hails from Scotland, Ireland and England. It's an interesting concept to ponder.  


     ....So, that said, could it be that maybe the saying of "Merry Christmas" awakens in some people the deep down DNA level knowledge, long forgotten if ever known, that their origin is more from God than from biological processes? Maybe that "sense of wonder" so many experience around Christmas is actually a sign of fertile ground, and the saying of "Merry Christmas," is, in a way, invoking, the name of Christ, and hopefully planting a seed.  OK, OK, I know, the old reformed guy is getting too mystical--time to switch to de-caf and go do something useful.


Keep saying "Merry Christmas!"

Dana   

 

Post 16-Dana, On Christmas

                                                   People who walk in darkness, have seen a great Light. Isa 9:2

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Dana Wrote:

Tue, Nov 29, 2016 at 11:49 AM

John,

     Well “‘tis the season” once again.  Time to spend lots of money on things people will forget just as quickly as they panic, then stampede out into mercantile hell, to buy with money that they don’t have, a return gift in obligation of that which they hadn’t planned.  Time to brush up on the old hand-to-hand combat techniques, so necessary in order to venture into Wal-Mart presently, because nothing says “Happy Birthday” to Jesus like knocking the teeth down the throats of those who grab the last big screen HD TV off the shelf first.  

      As a kid growing up in the 50’s and 60’s I was privileged to experience Christmas a different way.  A profusion of colorful electric Christmas lights everywhere glowing brightly out of the darkness symbolizing the “light of the world,” phonograph records of joyous Christmas music, and the general participation of all in America transformed the holiday to this young soul into a literal “Winter Wonderland.”  It didn’t seem near as rushed and stressful and manic as it has become.  There was a genuine feeling of “peace on earth and good will” towards all.  Even during World War One, German and allied forces laid down their arms, and climbed out of their trenches to meet in no man’s land to exchange gifts of tobacco and chocolate and brandy with men who they shot at the day before. 

       And it was seemingly everywhere.  The same Christmas Carols we sung in Sunday School, we sang in our public school classrooms and convocations, and heard on the radio and at home on the hi-fi.  The music was inseparable from the surrounding events, and it was wonderful. Large commercial establishments all had their version of the Nativity set up prominently.  It was neither shameful nor divisive to mention that the holiday centered on the birth of Jesus Christ in a manger in Israel two millennia past.  Everyone seemed to want to get into the Christmas spirit whether they truly appreciated the “reason for the season” or not.   I guess Jesus wasn’t a bad guy then.

      Somehow Satan hijacked Christmas somewhere in the following years.  What were we doing—sleeping? Preoccupied with the cares of this world? Lusting for other things?  In place of the heartwarming “Grinch Who Stole Christmas,” we awoke to find that the evil dragon of Revelation had gotten his mitts on the throttle and had driven the train right off the tracks and into the sewer of depravity in which it now so sadly resides.  You can have the lights, and you can spend the money, but all of that religious nonsense just throw in the trash, soon to be joined by all the ripped and torn wrapping paper of another Christmas gone by.  Spend spend spend, Hark the herald credit card companies sing.

      It snuck up on me, the day I heard a familiar Christmas song on the radio, and looking around me at what Christmas had become, instead of joy, I suddenly felt a saddened sense of loss, similar to what I feel when I think of my departed parents, grandparents, friends and pets that have left me behind in this life.  I just wanted to weep.  An ocean of whiskey, enough to float a ship wouldn’t have quenched the sorrow.

      Late one Christmas Eve, after my son was in bed, and all the presents were wrapped and neatly placed under the evergreen tree, I ventured out onto the dark front porch and into the freezing air, and I stared off into the eastern night sky.  In the weariness of my soul, I looked for a star; prayed for a much needed star.

      Perhaps because of my love of Handel’s “Messiah,” or perhaps because I just love the Biblical book, I try to make that divinely inspired portion of the libretto to “Messiah,” (the book of Isaiah) my devotional Christmas read.  Read many times before, this particular time Isaiah 9:2 “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone….” (ESV) really spoke to me, probably out of context, but at the time it rang intensely personal.  In it I saw myself, and since it is one of the paramount and familiar “Christmas” passages in Scripture, it sort of flipped on my internal Christmas lights.  And what a display it was! Theretofore I only thought I had loved Christmas.

     That verse served to remind me that no matter what kind of faux-Christmas smokescreen the devil sought to put up as a façade and a distraction, a great light had indeed penetrated it, and in my time of darkness, it shone on me. 

     It would be easy to end things here, on such a warm and fuzzy note, but the bigger issue of this tome, is that Christmas is something worth fighting for.  We cannot let it go. That said, yes, yes, we all know that December 25^th is not the confirmed date of Jesus’ birth (Jesus was probably born closer to April on our calendar, or perhaps later). It is also true, Christmas as we celebrate it, had its origins in pagan revelry from days long gone by, but the Church reformed it; “Christianized” it, if you will.  While it remains, not an actual, verifiable historical date, like George Washington’s or Martin Luther King’s birthdays, it does remain for Christians, a powerful symbol of God’s breaking into history as the old carol states, “…to save us all from Satan’s power when we had gone astray,” and to redeem His people from their sin.  We wrested it from the heathens long ago, and we cannot allow Satan to take it back.

     So, I propose saying to everyone we meet these days, “Merry Christmas!”  Political correctness is not a Christian ideal—in fact we have a long history of being thrown in jail for saying that which is unpopular to ruling establishments.  Just ask Peter and John.  Put up and encourage others to put up a nativity scene.  Most of all demonstrably enjoy Christmas.  The holiday is not the world’s to regulate.  Fear not, the only hope we have in this world or life began on Christmas Day in a manger some 2000 years ago in a stable in Israel, and it is ours to share.

     And share it we should.  It’s not wrong to give gifts at Christmas—crass commercialism aside, just don’t hit anybody in the store.  The wise men brought gifts to the baby Jesus.  St. Nicholas (the real-life inspiration for Santa Claus) was a genuine man of God and the Church, who gave to the underprivileged at Christmas. It’s a great tradition!  

     In fact, to the degree you can, let me suggest you give an unexpected gift to a non-Christian, or even better, to an undeserving non-Christian—an irate boss, or a crabby neighbor—such is not hard to find—they’re everywhere.  It will blow their mind, and it won’t do you any harm either.  Who knows, through such a gesture, they might even come to see that great light.  And, as a witnessing tool, let me say that I would be more prone to listen to someone had they given me a gift first.  Just saying….

     No Christmas would be complete without a story, and so we’ll finish with that.  One of the great Christmas carols of old, which we never sing any more, is “Good King Wenceslas.”  Historical details are a bit sketchy, so I’ll make no definitive claims to his being or hierarchical rank. The song portrays him as a kindly Czech king, and more critical data lists him as Wenceslaus I, the Duke of Bohemia, who lived somewhere during the 900’s AD.  But since it’s Christmas, I’ll throw my lot in with screenwriters James Warner Bellah, Willis Goldbeck, and Dorothy M. Johnson who wrote for the classic John Ford western, “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence,”

“…When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.”

     The legend has it that the good king noticed a poor man gathering firewood upon the “Feast of Stephen,” or December 26, the day after Christmas.  Touched by the man’s plight, Good King Wenceslas and his page gathered up food, drink and more firewood and ventured out into the frigid European winter to deliver some unexpected Christmas cheer.  During the journey, the page nearly succumbed to the cold.  The King encouraged him to walk in his (the King’s) footsteps, and upon so doing found warmth in those very imprints in the snow, and hence, could complete the trek.

     Fanciful?  Possibly.  True? Maybe.  Roman Catholic tradition acknowledges the phenomena of warming footprints in the snow, and attributes them to several of its canonized Saints.  Not trying to turn this into a Protestant-Catholic debate—after all, it’s Christmas, but just to illustrate that there are people who attest to such goings on.  It’s still a good story, and if the inner child in all of us (Jesus said we should be like children) can get back to a place of “wonder,” it’s a wonderful story, with an admirable and appropriate point.  Might we expect the miraculous, if we, at Christmas, devote ourselves to turning the aforementioned crass commercialism into a blessing for the less fortunate among us?  Might we take as a Christmas admonition the last lines of the “Good King Wenceslas” carol, as John Mason Neale published them in 1853,

“Therefore, Christian men, be sure, wealth or rank possessing, Ye who now will bless the poor, shall yourselves find blessing.”

Something upon which to ponder.

     Have yourselves a very Merry Christmas. Thanks for reading the blog. Do let’s be kind and generous to those who do not share our joy.  May Christ’s great light shine on us all.

“…tidings of comfort and joy.”

Dana