C cares, of the world

Christmas Changed the Calendar

“And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him, if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and of which I, Paul, became a minister.” (Colossians 1:21–23, ESV)

There is a slightly carnal side of me that enjoys the fact that every time an unbeliever or an atheist dates and signs a check or another official document they are having to give credence to the fact that over two thousand years ago something dramatic happened that ultimately changed the way the world keeps track of time. On archaeological signs in Israel you will find dating as BCE or ACE. BCE means “before the common era,” and ACE means “after the common era.” Sometimes just CE is used for the “common era.” These are nonreligious designations since to use BC (before Christ) or AD (Anno Domini, the year of our Lord) would link the dating to what really changed the world—the incarnation of Jesus Christ, the Son of God who really is the Lord. Those who don’t believe Jesus is Messiah and Lord just don’t want to go there. Ironically, the dates are all the same regardless of the designation one uses. Hence it really is Jesus who defines the eras.

At a more personal level, Paul in Colossians 1:21–23 shows the change Jesus brings into our lives as he describes what life is like before and after Christ changes our birthday spiritually.

Without the incarnation there could be no death and resurrection—hence no good news as to how we who were born into this world with a nature tainted by alienation, hostility, and evil behavior could be reconciled, declared righteous, and one day, stand before Him in holiness. All of this happens as a result of our second birthday, our spiritual birthday when we trusted Christ by faith. The connections between gospel proclamation, personal faith, steadfast living, and hope are held together because of what happened as a result of that first Christmas.

Christmas changing the world

Date: 11/2007.101

If we are completely honest, Christmas doesn't really change our world all that much. Even for those of us believe in Jesus Christ as God's Son and the Savior of the world, Christmas doesn't change our lives that much. Largely, we celebrate Christmas as a great American holiday. Snow, Santa, holly and mistletoe, family and friends gathered around the fireplace remembering what Christmas was like when we were kids. The shopping, the parties, and all of the busy activities that we cram into the season are a part of how Christmas goes. But when everything is said and done, the only real change Christmas brings to our world is that it makes us a little bit poorer and a lot more tired; and all of this for an event that God never called us to commemorate.

We are never once asked to remember the birth of Christ. Our celebration of Christmas is a purely human endeavor. He commanded us to remember his death, which we do through the act of communion, but he never asked us to celebrate his birth. That's our thing. It's not a bad thing, in fact it can be quite good, but does it change our lives?

The purpose of Christmas, the birth of Christ, was to bring a change to our world. I don't mean just the world in general, but I mean he came to bring a change to each and ever one of our personal worlds. Where we carry out life on a day to day basis, our job, our relationships, our families, our spirituality, all should be radically transformed by Christmas. Not transformed by our celebration of Christmas, but transformed by Christmas itself. How does Christmas change my world?

Christmas Linebacker

Date: 12/2008.101

Christmas theme

Date: 11/2007.101

"Mary had a little Lamb"

Epidemic of Loneliness during Christmas

A British medical doctor named Ishani Kar-Purkayastha shared a story about his interaction with Doris, an 82-year-old hospital patient. Two days before Christmas, Doris seemed healthy and ready for discharge. But for some reason she kept complaining about inexplicable health issues. Dr. Kar-Purkayastha wrote: "Yesterday it was her arm that was hurting, before that her hip. Truth is, Doris is an incredibly healthy 82-year-old, and we can't find anything. I have no doubt that it will be the same today."

When the X-rays came back normal, he told Doris that he would have to stick to the plan of sending her home. Doris looked down at the floor and quietly said, "I don't want to go home …. It's just that I'm all alone and there are so many hours in the day." Then after a long pause, she sighed and asked, "Doctor, can you give me a cure for loneliness?"

Dr. Kar-Purkayastha reflected on this incident:

I wish I could say yes. I wish I could prescribe her some antidepressants and be satisfied that I had done my best, but the truth is she's not clinically depressed. It's just that she has been left behind by a world that no longer revolves around her, not even the littlest bit.

There are thousands like her, men and women … for whom time stands empty as they wait in homes full of silence …. They are no longer coveted by a society addicted to youth ….

[Doris] is alone, and it brings home the truth of this epidemic that we have on our hands—an epidemic of loneliness …. The most difficult part is that I don't know how to solve this, although I wish I could. For now, I simply retract my diagnoses. Sheepishly, I insist that Doris spends her Christmas this year on the ward, and I can see her mood lift. But as I steel myself for the inevitable influx of unwanted grandparents whom I know will arrive, I cannot help but wonder how it is that things could have gone so badly wrong.

First Radio Message

Date: 12/2007.101

Sermon Central
The first ever vocal radio broadcast on December 24, 1906

- Consisted of a reading from Luke chapter two.

- A Canadian engineer and inventor, Reginald Fessenden - 1866-1932

- The eldest son of an Anglican minister growing up near Niagara Falls

On Christmas Eve, 1906, from his workshop in Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts, Fessenden sent the Morse message "CQ....CQ", alerting all ships at sea to expect an important transmission. When the telegraphers had assembled in their shipboard radio shacks, they heard the unimaginable: The sound of the human voice! . Fessenden, at this moment spoke for the first ever a vocal radio broadcast. He read from Luke 2 including, "Glory to God in the highest -and on earth peace to men of good will," then played the song O Holy Night on the violin.

Those who were listening that night were no less stunned than if a tree had talked to them. Earphones that had only ever carried Morse code were communicating the full range of sound

Jolly Christmas

Russell Moore Dean of Theology, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary

This happened once as I was stopping by my local community bookstore. It’s a small, quiet store, so it was impossible not to eavesdrop as I heard a young man tell his friend how much he hated Christmas. To be honest, the more he talked, the more I understood his point. This man wasn’t talking about the hustle and bustle of the holidays, or about the stresses of family meals or all the things people tend to complain about. What he hated was the music.

This guy started by lampooning one pop singer’s Christmas album, and I found myself smiling in agreement on how awful it is. But then he went on to say that he hated Christmas music across the board. That’s when I started to feel as though I might be in the presence of the Grinch. But then this man explained why he found the music so bad. It wasn’t just that it was cloying. It’s that it was boring.

“Christmas is boring because there’s no narrative tension,” he said. “It’s like reading a book with no conflict.”

Now he had my attention.

I’m sure this man had thought this for a long time, but maybe he felt freer to say it because we were only hours out from hearing the horrifying news of a massacre of innocent children in Connecticut. For him, the tranquil lyrics of our Christmas songs couldn’t encompass such terror. I think he has a point.

Some of the blame is on our sentimentalized Christmas of the American civil religion. Simeon the prophet never wished anyone a “holly-jolly Christmas” or envisioned anything about chestnuts roasting on an open fire. But what about our songs, the songs of the church? We ought to make sure that what we sing measures up with the, as this fellow would put it, “narrative tension” of the Christmas story.

The first Christmas carol, after all, was a war hymn. Mary of Nazareth sings of God’s defeat of his enemies, about how in Christ he had demonstrated his power and “has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate” (Luke 1:52). There are some villains in mind there. Simeon’s song, likewise, speaks of the “fall and rising of many in Israel” and of a sword that would pierce the heart of Mary herself. Even the “light of the Gentiles” he speaks about is in the context of warfare. After all, the light, the Bible tells us, overcomes the darkness (John 1:5), and frees us from the grip of the devil (2 Corinthians 4).

Far too often, though, our corporate worship ignores this spiritual warfare. Our worship songs are typically celebrative, in both lyrical content and musical expression. In the last generation, a mournful song about crucifixion was pepped up with a jingly-sounding chorus, “It was there by faith I received my sight, and now I am happy all the day!” Even those ubiquitous contemporary worship songs that come straight out of the Psalms tend to focus on psalms of ascent or psalms of joyful exuberance, not psalms of lament (and certainly not imprecatory psalms!).

We can easily sing with the prophet Jeremiah, “great is thy faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:23). But who can imagine singing, in church, with Jeremiah: “You have wrapped yourself with a cloud so that no prayer can pass through. You have made us scum and garbage among all the peoples” (Lamentations 3:43-45). This sense of forced cheeriness is seen in the ad hoc “liturgy” of most evangelical churches in the greeting and the dismissal. As the service begins a grinning pastor or worship leader chirps, “It’s great to see you today!” or “We’re glad you’re here!” As the service closes the same toothy visage says, “See you next Sunday! Have a great week!”

Of course we do. What else could we do? We’re joyful in the Lord, aren’t we? We want to encourage people, don’t we? And yet, what we’re trying to do isn’t working, even on the terms we’ve set for ourselves. I suspect many people in our pews look around them and think the others have the kind of happiness we keep promising—especially around Christmas– and wonder why it’s passed them by.

By not speaking, where the Bible speaks, to the full range of human emotion—including loneliness, guilt, desolation, anger, fear, desperation—we only leave our people there, wondering why they just can’t be “Christian” enough to smile or why they, like Charlie Brown, still feel unhappy when they stand to sing “Joy to the World.”

The gospel speaks a different word though. Jesus says, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matthew 5:4). In the kingdom, we receive comfort in a very different way than we’re taught to in American culture. We receive comfort not from faking cheerfulness or trying to drown out the throbbing of our souls with holly jolly sentimentality. We are comforted when we see our sin, our brokenness, our desperate circumstances, and we grieve and cry out for deliverance.

In a time when we seem to learn of a new tragedy each day, the unbearable lightness of Christmas seems absurd to the watching world. But, even in the best of times, we all know that we live in a groaning universe, a world of divorce courts and cancer cells and concentration camps. Just as we sing with joy about the coming of the Promised One, we ought also to sing with groaning that he is not back yet (Romans 8:23), sometimes with groanings too deep for lyrics.

We have a rich and complicated and often appropriately dark Christmas hymnody. We can sing of blessings flowing “far as the curse is found,” of the one who came to “free us all from Satan’s power.” Let’s sing that, every now and then, where we can be overheard.

Krampus

He Sees You When You’re Sleeping, and Gives You Nightmares
By MELISSA EDDY - MUNICH JOURNAL

DECEMBER 21, 2014
MUNICH — Long before parents relied on the powers of Santa Claus to monitor their children’s behavior, their counterparts in Alpine villages called on a shaggy-furred, horned creature with a fistful of bound twigs to send the message that they had better watch out.

Tom Bierbaumer recalls the trepidation he felt every Dec. 6, when the clanging of oversize cowbells signaled the arrival of the Krampus, a devilish mountain goblin who serves as an evil counterpart to the good St. Nick. He would think back over his misdeeds of past months — the days he had refused to clear the supper table, left his homework unfinished or pulled a girl’s hair.

“When you are a child, you know what you have done wrong the whole year,” said Mr. Bierbaumer, who grew up in the Bavarian Alps and now heads a Munich-based club, the Sparifankerl Pass — Bavarian dialect for “Devil’s Group” — devoted to keeping the Krampus tradition alive. “When the Krampus comes to your house, and you are a child, you are really worried about getting a hit from his switch.”

Besides visiting homes with St. Nicholas, the Krampus has for centuries run through village and town centers spreading pre-Christmas fear and chasing away evil spirits. That tradition dwindled across much of Bavaria during the 1960s and ’70s, as postmodern society moved away from its rural past.

But with cultural homogenization spreading across an increasingly unified Europe, a new generation is bringing back the customs that defined their childhoods, and those of their parents and grandparents.

A decade ago, Mr. Bierbaumer, 46, persuaded Munich authorities to stage an old-fashioned Krampuslauf: a spectacle in which the fearsome seasonal beasts run through rows of adorned wooden huts at the Bavarian capital’s oldest holiday market. He saw it as a way to ensure that future generations would share his childhood ritual, which takes place between late November and Dec. 23. At that point, similar beasts, known as Perchta, take over the fun until Epiphany.

The Munich Krampuslauf celebrates the history of the custom, including the artistry of the hand-carved, hand-painted masks. Advocates of the ritual say reviving it is important because American Christmas customs, which they see as more commercialized, have made their way into the German holiday.

Only old-fashioned Krampus, mixed with their cousins, the Perchta, are allowed to participate in the Munich runs, held on the second and third Sundays before Christmas. To join the run, they must be dressed in wooden masks with horns and goat or sheep pelts, and carry bells and switches — though only for show.

Upholding the seasonal ritual is of “absolute importance,” said Günter Tschinder from Lavanttal in Austria’s Carinthia region.

“This is a tradition that our great-grandparents were already doing that must be handed down to the next generation,” said Mr. Tschinder, a member of the Höfleiner Moorteufel from Carinthia, one of 27 groups that participated in Munich this year. “But properly handed down, as it was 40, 50, 60 years ago, not with a lot of commercialization, like from Hollywood films.”

Local Krampus clubs will spend 1,800 to 2,500 euros, or about $2,200 to $3,000, each year to acquire costumes, made only from local materials found in the Alps. Masks are carved from lime, Swiss pine or alder wood. Skins come from farm animals such as sheep or goats, although no one turns away a Krampus wearing wild boar.

The dress code is not the only rule that the 400 creatures must abide by when rushing nearly a mile through the Christkindlmarkt crowds. The devilish enforcers of good behavior are themselves bound to uphold a strictly enforced decorum, including the cardinal rules of the modern, urban Krampus: No drinking! No hitting! Be nice!

Gabriele Papke, who helps organize Munich’s main Christkindlmarkt, on the Marienplatz square before the neo-Gothic turrets of the Neues Rathaus, stresses the importance of crowd-friendly and safe events.

Organizers estimate that this year’s holiday market attracted some 1.7 million people in its first two weeks alone, drawn by its hot mulled wine, heart-shaped gingerbread cookies and roasted candied almonds.

Its Krampus clubs are hand-selected, based in equal measure on the artistry of their costumes and their clean reputations. “People in Munich don’t know what to expect from the Krampus,” said Ms. Papke, and that is especially true of the thousands of tourists from across the globe who descend on the market. This year, a special event the day before the run allowed children to meet the people behind the masks and learn about the 500-year-old custom.

A Krampuslauf can easily get out of hand. The police in the Bavarian town of Immenstadt are searching for a Krampus with light-colored fur and a long bearded mask who whipped a 19-year-old during a parade there in early December, while those in Kufstein, Austria, canceled the annual event after removing illegal fireworks from several participants.

As men and women covered in furs, their masks tucked beneath their arms — no masks are allowed before or after the run — made their way to the Munich run’s starting point on a recent Sunday, the pounding of drums and clanging of cowbells echoed off the walls of narrow back streets. Edeltraudt Danzing and her husband, Kurt, looked on.

“This is a pagan tradition that belongs in the village,” said Mrs. Danzing, shaking her head at the spectacle in the Bavarian capital. “I am glad my grandchildren aren’t here, they would be terrified.”

Once the run began, some children ducked behind their parents’ legs as the horned beasts wound their way through the crowds, pulling boys’ caps down over their eyes, or ruffling claws through women’s hair. One Krampus made a game of pulling ponytails loose, looping the hairbands over his long, curved horns in a teasing game of Krampus ringtoss.

But other children grew bold as each Krampus or Perchta romped past, darting out to tug at their fur, reveling in the thrill of a roar or the threat of a tap from a switch.

Eight-year-old Marlene Michl insisted that she was not afraid — this year, anyway. “Last year was a lot more scary,” she said. “This year, I knew what was coming.”
CHRISTMAS

Lonely Birthday

Date: 12/2007.101

As you know, the celebration of my birthday began many years ago. At first people seemed to understand and be thankful of all that I did for them, but now in these times, no one seems to know the reason for the celebration. Family and friends get together and have a lot of fun, but they don't seem to know the meaning of the celebration.

I remember that last year there was a great feast in my honor. The dinner table was full of delicious foods, pastries, fruits, assorted nuts and chocolates.

The decorations were exquisite and there were many, many beautifully wrapped gifts. But, do you want to know something? I wasn't invited. I was the guest of honor and they didn't remember to send me an invitation. The party was for me, but when that great day came, I was left outside. They closed the door in my face......... and I wanted to be with them and share their table. In truth though, that didn't really surprise me that much because in the last few years it seems all are closing their doors to me.

Since I was not invited, I decided to enter the party without making any noise.

I went in and stood in a corner. They were all drinking; there were some who were drunk and telling jokes and laughing at everything. They were having a great time. To top it all, this big fat man all dressed in red wearing a long white beard entered the room yelling Ho-Ho-Ho! He seemed drunk. He sat on the sofa and all the children ran to him, shouting: "Santa Claus, Santa Claus"... as if the party were in his honor!

At 12 midnight all the people began to hug each other; I extended my arms waiting for someone to hug me and.... do you know.... no one hugged me.

Suddenly they all began to share gifts. They opened them one by one with great expectation. When all had been opened, I looked to see if, maybe, there was one for me.

What would you feel if on your birthday everybody shared gifts and you did not get one? I then understood that I was unwanted at that party and quietly left.

Every year it gets worse. People only remember to eat and drink, the gifts, the parties but nobody remembers me. I would like this Christmas that you allow me to enter into your life. I would like that you recognize the fact that almost two thousand years ago I came to this world to give my life for you, on the cross, to save you. Today, I only want that you believe this with all you heart.

I want to share something with you. As many didn't invite me to their party, I will have my own celebration, a grandiose party that no one has ever imagined, a spectacular party. I'll still making the final arrangements. Today I am sending out many invitations and there is an invitation for you. I want to know if you wish to attend and I will make a reservation for you and write your name with golden letters in my great guest book. Only those on the guest list will be let into the party. Those who don't answer the invitation, will be left outside.

Do you know how you can answer this invitation? It is by extending it to others whom you care for...

I'll be waiting for all of you to attend my party this year...

See you soon.... I love you!

-Jesus-
CHRISTMAS

Merry Christmas In Advance

Date: 11/2007.101

Paul Lee Tan, Encyclopedia of 7700 Illustrations : A Treasury of Illustrations, Anecdotes, Facts and Quotations for Pastors, Teachers and Christian Workers (Garland TX: Bible Communications, 1996, c1979).

Michigan Ave

Date: 12/2007.101

9 Dec 2007 - DCFC Mandarin (both) Ps 96 - Tell the Candy Cane Story

Polar Express

SermonCentral – Rodney Buchanan

Rudolph the red nose reindeer

Matt Woodley, managing editor, PreachingToday.com; source: Kristen Parrish, No Cape Required (Thomas Nelson, 2013), pp. 219-220

Dec 12 2014 – QBC English Luke 1:26-38 – Who is the Christ of Christ-mas

Rudolph the red nose reindeer, had a very shiny nose. And if you ever saw it, you would even say it glows. But all the other reindeers, used to laugh and call him names, they never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games. Then one foggy Christmas eve, Santa came to say, “Rudolph with your nose so bright, won’t you guide my sleigh tonight..” This was one of the first Christmas jingle that I learned. I did not grow up in a Christian family. So I still remember the 1^st time I learnt this song when I was ten and attended some day camp where I caught chicken pox…This song started out as an advertising gimmick. In 1939 Montgomery Ward tapped advertising executive Robert May to write a poem that their store Santa Claus could give away to children who came to visit him. "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" first appeared in a little booklet published by the department store chain. More than 2.5 million copies were handed out. And by 1946 more than 6 million copies of the poem were distributed. Rudolph's story came to musical life in 1949 when May's brother-in-law, Johnny Marks, wrote the music. Today "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" is the highest-selling Christmas carol, at more than 25 million units.
What makes this little carol so loved? Some people might say that it's the pluckiness and courage of Rudolph, the alleged hero of the story. But the real beauty of the story focuses on grace. By grace, Santa chooses Rudolph despite the fact that he's a clear outsider and "reject." He has a defect—his big, annoyingly shiny red nose—that has usually disqualified him from getting chosen for other reindeer games. But despite all the other available candidates, who did Santa choose (or "elect") when the fog rolled in? That's right, the one with the weird shiny red nose. The "weakness" that was considered a liability by Rudolph and his fellow reindeer became the "strength" that Santa used to accomplish his mission.

The Saint who punched a Heretic

Brandon Vogt

http://brandonvogt.com/the-saint-who-punched-a-heretic/

Today marks the feast of St. Nicholas, a saint remembered by most for his association with Santa Claus, some for his commendable charity, but a small number for his famous punch against a third-century heretic.

As the story goes, during the First Ecumenical Council of Nicea (AD 325) there was a big argument over the divinity of Christ. Arius, a heretical bishop, believed that Christ was not divine, but rather just a creature. The Council challenged him to defend his claims in front of his brother bishops, including jolly old St. Nicholas.

St. Nicholas tried to listen patiently but he considered Arius’ proposal so radical, so heretical, that he could no longer contain himself. In the middle of the speech, he rose with a scowl, charged toward Arius, and punched him right in the face.

The noted Punch is memorialized in many icons and works of art, including this piece:
 

 
Unfortunately, the Punch got St. Nichols into serious trouble. The Emperor Constantine was present at the Council, and he was so alarmed by St. Nicholas’ act of violence that he and the other bishops stripped Nicholas of his office and confiscated his two episcopal markers: his personal copy of the Gospels and his pallium, the vestment worn by all bishops in the East.

But the story didn’t stop there. According to tradition:

 

“After Nicholas was deposed, the Lord Jesus Christ and the Blessed Virgin Mary visited Nicholas who was being held in a prison cell for his fist-fight with the heretic.

 
Our Lord Jesus Christ asked Saint Nicholas, “Why are you here?” Nicholas responded, “Because I love you, my Lord and my God.”
 
Christ then presented Nicholas with his copy of the Gospels. Next, the Blessed Virgin vested Nicholas with his episcopal pallium, thus restoring him to his rank as a bishop.
 
When the Emperor Constantine heard of this miracle, he immediately ordered that Nicholas be reinstated as a bishop in good standing for the Council of Nicea. Today we recite the Nicene Creed every Sunday so we know how the controversy played out. The bishops at Nicea sided with Saint Nicholas and Saint Athanasius and they condemned Arius as a heretic.
 
To this very day, we still recite in the Creed that Christ is “God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God, begotten not made, consubstantial with the Father.””

The True meaning of the Candy Cane

Date: 8/2007.101

9 Dec 2007 - DCFC English - Ps 96 - Tell the Candy Cane Story

9 Dec 2007 - DCFC Mandarin (both) Ps 96 - Tell the Candy Cane Story

Intense Illustrations - Jim Burns & Mike Devries P118
Many years ago as the Christmas season approached, a humble candy maker living in a small town in the state of Indiana wanted to create something with his own hands that would be symbolic of the true meaning of Christmas. Although his creation had become known throughout the world simply as a candy cane. It actually offers an often needed reminder of the birth, ministry, death of Jesus Christ! This is that story as told through a simple piece of candy:

As a believer, the candy maker began with pure hard, white candy - 'white' to symbolize the virgin birth and the sinless nature of Jesus and 'hard' to represent Christ as the solid rock, the foundation of the Church and the firmness of the promises of God.

The candy maker then shaped the candy into the form of a J, representing both the precious name of Jesus and also His staff as the Good Shepherd who reaches down into the ditches of the world to lift out His fallen lambs, bringing them into eternal salvation. The candy maker then stained the candy with red stripes to represent the scourging Jesus received and the blood he shed on the cross as redemption for each who will believe in Him and accept Him as Lord.

His final act was to make his creation and all that it stood for available to everyone - to partake and to experience its sweetness. Thus the candy maker hung the candy abundantly on the Christmas tree in his shop, around the window and the door frame, offering it free to anyone who would enter the shop and ask.

Unfortunately as with many other things now associated with the commercialism of Christmas, the candy cane has become to most of the world just an inexpensive decoration for trees and fireplaces. But like a parable for those who have ears to hear, it's real message is the birth and life and ministry of Jesus Christ for whom this holiday is celebrated. From this day forward, may every candy cane you see remind you of this story. may it also provide you with the opportunity to use this little piece of sweetness to share with at least one friend, relative, classmate or co-worker the true meaning of Christmas and the good news of Jesus Christ!
CHRISTMAS

Wright Brothers' Hometown

Date: 11/2007.101

Dec 2007 - DCFC English - Ps 96 - Tell the Candy Cane Story

Dec 2007 - DCFC Mandarin (both) Ps 96 - Tell the Candy Cane Story

Orville and Wilbur Wright had tried repeatedly to fly a heavier-than-air craft. Finally one December day, off the sand dunes of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, they did what man had never done before. They actually flew! Elated, they wired their sister Katherine, ?We have actually flown 120 feet. Will be home for Christmas.?

Hastily she ran down the street, shoved the telegram, the news scoop of the century, at the city editor of the local paper. He read it carefully and smiled, ?Well, well! How nice the boys will be home for Christmas!?

Maxwell Droke

Paul Lee Tan, Encyclopedia of 7700 Illustrations : A Treasury of Illustrations, Anecdotes, Facts and Quotations for Pastors, Teachers and Christian Workers (Garland TX: Bible Communications, 1996, c1979).

On December 17, 1903, Orville and Wilbur Wright made their first flight of an airplane at Kitty Hawk NC. On their 5th attempt, the plane under the control of Orville, embarked on a 12 second flight.

Wilbur rushed to the local telegraph office and sent the following message ?WE HAVE FLOWN FOR 12 SECONDS - WE WILL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS!

Upon receiving the telegram their sister, Katherine went to the newspaper office, told the editor of her brother new flying machine, and informed him, they would be home for Christmas, if he would like to set up an interview.

He told her that was nice, and he would be sure to put something in the paper regarding the boys.

On December 19th, the local paper placed the following headline on the 6th page of the paper: “WRIGHT BROTHERS HOME FOR CHRISTMAS” The most important story of the year, man’s first flight, and the editor missed it!

I wonder if the same could be said about us when it comes to Christmas. Look all around us! The trees are decorated

The music is festive

The Season is Right

It is Christmas, and there are only 14 shopping day’s left!

In all of our rushing around, in all of our gift buying, in all the things we have to do during this season ?HAVE WE MISSED THE IDEA ?Jesus has come to earth!

CHRISTMAS

The Gift

George Parler

It was our turn to open our presents this particular Christmas morning. The living room was already covered with torn wrapping paper from the onslaught of the chil­dren's eagerness to unveil the hidden treasures that had tor­mented them for nearly a month. Now we adults sat around the room with our presents at our feet, slowly removing the paper while at the same time holding back the child within ourselves and maintaining our dignity in front of each other.

My wife, Brenda, and her family have a tradition of getting each other gag gifts. This always makes me a bit uneasy at Christmas or my birthday, never knowing what form of embar­rassment lies waiting for me under the thin confines of the wrapping paper.

One of my daughters, Christy, who at the time was six years old, was standing directly in front of me. The excitement of the moment just beamed across her face. It was everything she could do to keep herself from helping me rip the paper from each present. Finally, I came to the last gift. And with my nat­ural Sherlock Holmes ability, I deduced that this had to be the gag gift. Because with them it was never a question of "if," it was a question of when you came to it. So, with everyone look­ing on, I decided to go ahead and get it over with—just let them have their laugh—and I ripped off the paper. And there it was...a toy airplane about two inches long. Our holiday guests started giggling to themselves as I looked up to my wife with a smirk on my face and blurted out, "A toy airplane, give me a break!"

Brenda gave me the look—that look that always tells me I have just put my foot in my mouth and am in the process of thoroughly chewing it. I had failed to look at the name tag before I opened the present to see who it was from. As I picked up the paper from the floor and read the name tag, my heart sank. On the tag were scribbled block letters that read, "To Dad, Love Christy." I have never felt as low at any time in my life as I did at that moment. One of the most agonizing experi­ences of my life was having to look down into her little face to find the joy that had once been there replaced with a look of total embarrassment and humiliation. The fear in her eyes spoke her thoughts of hoping no one would find out that the gift her father found so repulsive had come from her.

This loving child had taken her spending money that she could have spent on herself, but she had chosen instead to buy her daddy a Christmas present. And it wasn't just any present. She knew from watching me play computer video flight-simula­tor games that I was fascinated with airplanes.

I quickly knelt down and grabbed her up in my arms and held her as tight as I possibly could, willing to give anything to be able to take back those words. I made a feeble attempt to explain that I thought it had come from Mom, but since I found out it came from her, that made it different. It was obvious that nothing I could say was going to change the hurt in her little heart. I had to find a way to prove I meant what I said.

And I did. I took that toy airplane in my hand and began making airplane noises. I taxied onto the runway, which was the counter, and throttled to full thrust and was soon airborne. My mission goal was to remove the hurt from my baby's face—that I had caused—and to continue until her smile returned. I played all day with that airplane. I put so much excitement into that airplane that the other children left their new Christmas toys and wanted a turn playing with my little two-inch airplane. And just like a little selfish kid I said, "No, this is mine!" It wasn't very long until Christy's face was beaming with a smile again. But I didn't stop there. That little plane became a trea­sure of great wealth to me, and still is, for I still have that little two-inch plane.

I keep that plane mainly because it came from my little girl's heart with love. But it's also a reminder to me of the power of words.

Directory: cfs-filesystemfile.ashx -> key -> CommunityServer.Components.PostAttachments
CommunityServer.Components.PostAttachments -> General editors john baillie
key -> Eternity! Eternity
key -> Annotated Bibliography
key -> [The first seventeen verses of Matthew consists of Jesus' family tree
CommunityServer.Components.PostAttachments -> Apr 24 2011 dcfc english Worship [The Master & The Disciple] Luke 24: 28-36
CommunityServer.Components.PostAttachments -> A box of treasure by beverly carradine
key -> The life and times — of — benjamin franklin, — by — joseph franklin, and
key -> The flying inn

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