Christmas Barbie

 

I needed a Barbie doll in the worst way, and Christmas and birthday were the only times a child could get a new possession. My best friend Barbie had a Barbie doll, and so did my younger cousins. Personally, I didn’t wish for one, but I couldn’t even play with friends and cousins without a Barbie doll of my own, so I asked for one for Christmas. The usual anticipation and excitement ruled, and on Christmas morning, there she was. But…. It wasn’t Barbie. The box said so, right there. Her name was Babette. I think I understood that my parents, with four children to buy gifts for, could not afford Barbie. She cost $6. Babette was only $3. That extra $3 could buy 15 loaves of white bread (with $.15 left over).

 

Babette looked exactly like the real thing. So did her outfit. If I had had any sense, I would have realized I could name my doll anything I wanted, and, once the box was in the trash, no one would be the wiser. But I didn’t have that kind of sense. I had the sense of reality and honesty that forced me to accept that my doll wasn’t authentic. I was disappointed. Every time I played with my best friend Barbie or my cousins, I knew my doll was an impostor. I could never enjoy our playtimes as an equal. She wasn’t Barbie. My doll was inferior. I could have been happy, but my own thoughts defeated the purpose. I was comparing with what others had, what I thought I wanted, what should have been, with a skewed sense of value.

 

Even as I reminisce, I am in tears for what I lost – not the loss of the real thing, but the loss of delight with the gift because of misguided thoughts. The tears are not for then, but for now. The same kinds of misguided thoughts may diminish my joy in the gifts God gives today. Maybe I’m comparing with what I thought I needed or what others seem to have or some other facet of “the real thing.” God calls His gifts “good and perfect.” I wish for the sense to recognize their perfection and to choose to be delighted with what He has given. The God Who tells us, “My ways are higher than your ways,” was including our thoughts, our values and our emotions. If we can trust God, we don’t ever have to be disappointed with our gifts.

--Lynda Shenefield

What Christmas is All About

 

“And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless us, Every One!” These are the closing words of the very well-known story A Christmas Carol. This book was first published in 1843, and the author Charles Dickens wrote this masterpiece in an astonishingly short six weeks! Most of us have either read the book or have seen one of the many movie adaptations, ranging from the classic starring Albert Finney to the one my kids particularly enjoy, the Muppets version! We know the story, but for the sake of where I am about to take us, here is a short summary: The miserly Ebenezer Scrooge hates Christmas and people alike. He is a grumpy, disagreeable man who has no compassion for the poor and no understanding why anyone could be happy. Though rich, he does not share with those in need, and he has no desire to spend the holidays with his only remaining relatives. One evening he is visited by the ghost of his former business partner Jacob Marley, who warns him that he will one day share Marley’s fate of roaming the earth in chains if he does not change his ways and use his life for the good of others. So, as you probably know, Scrooge is visited by three spirits – the Spirit of Christmas Past, then the Present, and finally the Spirit of Christmas Future. Each shows him his life and the lives of his acquaintances in that time period, and how his choices in life impact those around him. Of course, at the end of the story, Scrooge wakes up in the present with the resolution to live differently, and he finds great joy in serving others. It seems he has finally found what life is all about.

But has he? As I have pondered this story over the last few days (my seventh and eighth grade students are currently reading this book for my class), I am seeing afresh that though this is a good message (“Live for others”), it falls far short of what life is truly about. The spirits failed him. Here is where they should have taken him:

The Past: The first scene opens and Scrooge is standing in the midst of a beautiful garden. He sees a serpent, a woman, and a man. The woman has just taken a bite of a forbidden fruit and the man eats likewise. Scrooge hears a voice from on high. The fellowship between God and man has been broken. The second scene looks starkly different. It is the middle of the afternoon but the sky is as black as night. Three men hang on crosses of wood; the one in the middle cries out, committing his spirit into God’s hands, and one of the soldiers looking on says, “Surely this is the Son of God.”  The final scene of the past shows this very Son of God, resurrected, and giving his followers instructions for passing on the good news that salvation can only be found in belief of this Messiah’s finished work on the cross on behalf of the sins of man.

The Present: This spirit takes Scrooge to his counting house where he sees himself refusing to share his wealth when two men have come to collect alms for the poor. Scrooge hears his hate-filled words in regards to the poor, “If they would rather die [than work in a workhouse], they had better do it and decrease the surplus population.” He hears the words he speaks to his nephew before he refuses the invitation to spend Christmas with him: “If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with ‘Merry Christmas’ on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!” Ebenezer Scrooge comes face to face with who he really is, a sinful, angry, bitter old man in desperate need of someone to rescue him from his own sins. Another scene opens in the Present. Scrooge is sitting near his fireplace. A Bible lies open before him. He reads, “Behold, now is the accepted time; now is the day of salvation” (2 Corinthians 6:2).

The Future: The final spirit takes Scrooge to a graveyard where he sees his own gravestone. Without speaking, the spirit points ahead, and as Scrooge lifts his eyes, he gets a glimpse of two separate paths leading away from his tomb. One path leads to eternal separation from the God he has offended with his sins. The other path, a narrow one, leads to a city of gold in which God dwells with his people in eternal joy for all time. Scrooge falls to his knees as he looks back at his tombstone. Is it too late?

With a hammering heart and drenched in sweat, Scrooge wakes up. He is lying in his bed; he is back in the Present. It is not too late. He can yet choose his path.

Of course, this is not the story that Charles Dickens tells. No, Dickens, along with the majority of our neighbors, believes that true joy in life is found when we “do good” and live for others. There is an inkling of truth here; joy is found when we put others before ourselves, but that is not lasting joy. True, deep, and abiding joy can only be found in Christ. Out of that relationship flows love for our neighbor and good works.

As I read A Christmas Carol, I can appreciate the focus on others rather than self, but I can also thank God that there really is a Spirit who guides in truth. This Spirit, the true Spirit, grants us the sight to see what Christ has accomplished in the past, gives us the faith in the present to believe in Him for our own salvation, and encourages us with the beauty of the future that awaits us in Heaven one day. So, this Christmas, as we give gifts, gather with family, and donate to causes that are dear to us, may we keep Christ in the center. The baby who came to earth to be born came for me and you, to rescue us from ourselves, to give us true and lasting joy. The message to the shepherds is the same message to us, “Fear not, for behold, I  bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:10-11). As another famous Charles put into words through his character Linus, “And that is what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.”

--Amy O'Rear

The Shepherds

 

         While shepherds watched their flocks by night all seated on the ground,

         The Angel of the Lord came down and glory shone around.

         “Fear not,’ said he, for mighty dread had seized their troubled minds.

         “Glad tidings of great joy I bring, to you and all mankind.

                “To you, in David’s town, this day, is born of David’s line,

         The Savior, who is Christ the Lord; and this shall be the sign.

         ‘The Heavenly Babe you there shall find to human view displayed,

         All meanly wrapped in swathing bands, and in a manger laid.”

 

            I collect nativities and recently added this to my collection.  It’s not a complete nativity.  It’s only a shepherd with three of his sheep.  All four (sheep included) are gazing upward with their mouths open and eyes wide.  I imagine the angel has just appeared with his amazing announcement.  You recall this is the first public announcement of his birth.

 

            Forty-four years ago I stood in what is still called The Shepherds’ Field outside of Bethlehem.  I would imagine very little has changed in these two thousand plus years.  Near the field was a low-roofed cave.  We were told that the shepherds often brought their sheep in to the cave on chilly nights.  I can see the shepherds perhaps sitting, perhaps lying, outside the cave around a fire, when the amazing announcement came to them.

 

            In Bible times shepherds were of the lower class, the poor and the humble, but Jesus Himself identifies as a shepherd.  He calls Himself the Good Shepherd, so I think that this announcement to the shepherds was a very deliberate choice.

 

            The most well-known description of that announcement is found in Luke 2.  I’m quoting from the New Living Translation:

 

            That night there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep.  Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them.  They were terrified, but the angel reassured them.  “Don’t be afraid!” he said.  “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people.  The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David!  And you will recognize him by this sign:  You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.”

            Suddenly, the angel was joined by a vast host of others—the armies of heaven—praising God and saying, “Glory to God in highest heaven, and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased.”

            When the angels had returned to heaven, the shepherds said to each other, “Let’s go to Bethlehem! Let’s see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”

They hurried to the village and found Mary and Joseph. And there was the baby, lying in the manger.  After seeing Him, the shepherds told everyone what had happened and what the angel had said to them about this child.  All who heard the shepherds’ story were astonished, but Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often.  The shepherds went back to their flocks, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen.  It was just as the angel had told them.

 

            The thing that has touched me the most this Christmas in my thinking about the shepherds has been their boldness.  They immediately told “everyone” what had happened and what the angels had said to them.  There is no indication that they were intimidated about sharing their news, no hint that they weren’t sure people would believe them.  They simply told what they knew to be true.  It didn’t matter what people thought of them.

            I am sometimes intimidated.  I sometimes keep my mouth shut.  But I want the boldness of the shepherds.  One of the old hymns says “And all that hear the shepherds’ song with burning heart and tingling tongue. . . . “ May I have a burning heart and a tingling tongue to tell of the wondrous birth of my Savior!

Trusting in Spite of Questions

 

Recently one of my students asked me my favorite Christmas song. It may have been just a ploy to avoid real work for a few minutes, but I took time to answer. There are two that I love. The first is “O, Little Town of Bethlehem,” and the second is “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear.” I have memories of singing both of these carols as a child in the hills of West Virginia. The mystery and quiet of Christmas surrounds these sweet songs with visions of a starry sky and shepherds on the hillside.  

I especially like the third of verse of “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear”:

And ye, beneath life's crushing load,
whose forms are bending low,
who toil along the climbing way
with painful steps and slow,
look now! for glad and golden hours
come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
and hear the angels sing!

I have a really good life—people who love me, a fulfilling job, a secure home—and yet there are moments with life does seem “crushing.” My extended family has endured seven deaths in this past year. Some of these were people who had lived long and busy lives, but some were relatively young, and their loss is keenly felt. I have to admit that I have struggled with resentment. Why does God instruct us to pray if he already knows what he will do? Why get my hopes up with promises of “two or three gathered together”? Why the nebulous language about praying in Jesus’ name? More than once in recent months, I have thought, What am I missing? What are we all missing?

I don’t have a firm answer to my question, but in my Bible reading, I have realized that even Jesus didn’t get everything he asked for on this earth. When he prayed in the garden before his arrest, Jesus asked if the “bitter cup” might pass without his having to drink it. No.

Neither did the apostle Paul get all his prayers answered in the affirmative. He requested that God remove his “thorn in the flesh,” but God just told him to keep trusting. (See II Corinthians 12.)

I don’t know what you’re struggling to understand this season, but it’s likely there’s something. We have only to look around us to see people and situations in need of God’s help: illness, fear, unbelief—the list goes on. And we are still called to trust.

So trust is what I will do, by God’s grace. The message of Christmas is still the message of hope. It’s the assurance that God has not left us to our own devices to figure out how to fix ourselves. It’s because we cannot fix ourselves that Jesus came to live the sorrowful life that we each must face. Then he conquered death. Even though human life predictably ends, death is not really the end. “The hopes and fears of all the years” met in Bethlehem many years ago, and Jesus was the answer.  He is still the answer, and he enters in when we invite him. Jesus does not eliminate every struggle of life, but his presence certainly gives comfort and a promise of better things to come.

--Sherry Poff