I used to scour right-wing news sites around this time of year looking for examples of the “War on Christmas.” I would come across a handful of examples of Nativity scenes being verboten, Santa bans and candy cane cancelations and Gospel reading no-no’s. I’d post them on my blog and write newspaper articles about them. And those things do happen in isolated instances. But this does not represent a War on Christmas. In truth, I’ve never been prevented from celebrating Christmas the way my family chooses to celebrate Christmas. I’ve never had anyone bah humbug my cheer. My church has always properly celebrated the birth of Christ. My wife and I typically attend at least one Christmas concert a year. (This year we went to three!) Granted, a lot of people don’t celebrate Christmas. And that’s fine, too. As a general rule, I don’t get in their way and they don’t get in mine. I’ve even read news stories and op/eds on left-wing sites and the New York Times that revel in the Christmas story — even from a Christian perspective. So I was wrong all those years ago. I was literally trying to be victimized by making sky-is-falling declarations about the War on Christmas, when there really isn’t one. Christmas seems to be doing just fine. The Grinch did not succeed in his endeavor. Maybe the Grinch isn’t so powerful, after all.
Category: Christmas
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No comments on Christmas is doing just fine
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Last evening, my wife and I watched the movie “A Christmas Story,” which is something we (mainly me) try to do every year right before Christmas. I don’t think we watched it last year, but we’ve watched it so many times that it was still very fresh in my mind. I cherish this movie for myriad reasons, but I think most of all I cherish the nostalgia (and the fact that we visited the Christmas Story house when we were in Cleveland several years ago).
“A Christmas Story” is set in northern Indiana in the 1940’s and the plot revolves around a 9-year-old boy’s pursuit of an air rifle. But there are several other “side plots” going on a well: the protagonist’s dealings with the neighborhood bully, his father’s battles with the basement furnace and the neighbor’s canines, his parents’ wrangling over a gaudy “leg lamp,” and other assorted happenings that keep the plot flowing.
When I watch the movie, I find myself wondering what it would have been like to live back then. Granted, 80 years isn’t that long when weighed against the millennia of human history, but technologically it’s light years distant. Imagine living during a time with no internet and cable TV, no smartphones, no Alexa or Siri, no Amazon Prime, no curbside delivery, no ebooks and certainly no music streaming. That’s when they still read actual books and you could get them at the library or the bookstore. (I do miss bookstores.) They had music, but you had to own a phonograph player or one of those old-timey radios as big as a bookcase. (I would love to own one of those.) There was very little to watch on TV — if you even owned a TV. Most family dinners took place around the table; there was no fast food and far fewer restaurants than there are today. To shop, you had to physically enter a store. And you can forget about GPS navigation and satellite radio in your automobile.
There’s something quintessential about that America. We’ll never get it back. It’s not that I’d want to go back to that time, because then I’d have to give up all the amenities and advancements that we all enjoy today. But there was a certain innocence and naïveté that existed then that does not exist today. Once innocence and naïveté are lost, they’re lost forever. That’s the part I wish we could somehow reclaim.
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It snowed last night in Mt. Juliet. I awoke early this morning to put the turkey in the oven and noticed our deck covered in snow. It was 19 degrees outside at sunrise. Granted, we only measured 0.2″ of accumulation, but the good thing about living in Tennessee is that 0.2″ of snow constitutes a White Christmas. Our standards here are very low.
Yesterday afternoon, we went to Christmas Eve service at church. It was a splendid event and very well attended. It was encouraging to be among the faithful.
After celebrating Christmas at my mother-in-law’s, which is how we traditionally spend our Christmas Eve each year, we came home and lit the tree and changed into warm pajamas. My wife and I watched “Charlie Brown Christmas.” The soundtrack by the Vince Guaraldi Trio is a jazz classic and the cartoon actually contains scripture references about Christmas and the Christ child which I find a heartwarming oasis in this secular culture of ours.
The skit closes with the characters singing “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” Likewise, I’ll close with a few of the lyrics from that song as we celebrate Christmas, 2020:
Hark! The herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled.”
Joyful, all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies,
With th’angelic host proclaim:
“Christ is born in Bethlehem.”
Hark! The herald angels sing,
“Glory to the newborn King!”Merry Christmas, everyone.
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I actually don’t have writer’s block, but I have been searching for a topic for today. It’s the second of a 7-day break from work. I believe this is my longest stretch of time off in 2020. I’ve done almost nothing today. It’s cool and cloudy outside and the rain has just begun. Mrs. Lefty has been baking in the kitchen for most of the day. I’m full of sweets, which is a hard thing to do. I can put away the sweets.
I’ve been watching college football for hours already. I’ve turned my brain off, which feels wonderful. It’s been awhile since I’ve enjoyed a day like this. It’s a luxury, in fact.
Memphis plays Florida Atlantic in the Montgomery Bowl on Wednesday. The Tigers have lost 5 straight bowl games. Please let the streak end this year. Let’s win this time.
I see where the city of Memphis is going back under lockdown. It’s not the only place where this is happening, but Memphis seems to go overboard more than any other place in Tennessee. Forget about these “paths to reopening,” of whatever they call them. There is no path to reopen. The petty tyrants will only reopen when they’re forced to. That means an increasing number of citizens and business owners are going to have to stand up and say we’re not doing this anymore. You can make fun of us anti-maskers and call us selfish if you want, but do you really enjoy living like this? I don’t and I refuse to.
Christmas is in six days. We’ll be visiting family Monday through Wednesday. Tomorrow is church and then we hit the road Monday morning. Eight days ago we attended the funeral of my 78-year-old uncle. This time it will be a much happier occasion.
Last night we watched my favorite holiday movie, “A Christmas Story.” I love that movie. I always wonder what it would have been like growing up in that era (late 1940’s). Granted, we have better technology in 2020 and more “conveniences,” but it seems like such a simpler time back then with fewer complications. There isn’t a television in that movie — only a radio. There was no social media and the newspapers reported real news. There were fewer divisions and so little was politicized. It’s a wonderful story. While Ralph was salivating over a BB gun, I would have been salivating over the electric train.
Christmas is going to cold in these parts. We may or may not get snow, but it is going to be cold, which is only proper for December 25. Let it be cold. We’re cooking a giant turkey that day. Enjoy your families and give thanks for your friends. Don’t let the petty tyrants steal your joy.
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‘Tis the season to be jolly, except I’m not feeling it here lately. I suppose I’m partly to blame. There are things a person controls and some things he doesn’t.
After last evening’s outing at Cheekwood was marred by the mask Nazis, we received word that an uncle had passed. It didn’t come as a surprise. We weren’t especially close; I saw him maybe once a year. But there are only a handful of individuals I can honestly say I’ve known my entire life, and he was one of them, and now there is one fewer. Plus, I understand what the family is enduring with a funeral looming.
We had discussed wandering over to the Opryland Hotel before Christmas to see the lights and decorations there. They always go over-the-top with their lights and decorations. But after last night, I am loathe to set us up for another disappointment. The Opryland Hotel tells you up front that masks are required, and I prefer not to deal with mask Nazis again. We’ll stay home and enjoy our own surroundings. Plus, we have a family gathering of our own planned the week of Christmas that we’re very much looking forward to. So we’ll stick to the things that we control.
I don’t know what’s going to happen with the election. The evidence is overwhelming that it was stolen. I’m trying to remain optimistic that justice and fairness will win over cheating and scheming, but every day that passes with no resolution, my optimism dims a little. So I’m preparing myself for the possibility that the other side will assume the reigns of power next month AND that the two Senate elections in Georgia will also be stolen. Who’s to stop them?
I’m not a pessimist or a fatalist. I mean, there’s still hope. But there’s also the possibility that the other side will succeed with their stolen election. So it’s up to me to not let them steal my peace and joy, too. Christian people have too much to rejoice over to let these earthly demons take from us what God has freely given. After all, the early church was persecuted far more than we are, and they flourished and spread rapidly and nothing stopped them.
But in the meantime, yes, I’m bummed. Yet I know it won’t last long.
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Christmas is 20 days away. As a child, the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas drags by, hence the term “slower than Christmas.” That’s because as a child you’re looking forward to two main events: an extended break from school and presents under the tree.
It’s a bit different when you’re an adult, and even more different after the kid(s) are grown. Christmas gets here fast when you’re an adult because Christmas is more about experiences than presents (although we still enjoy opening presents). Experiences take time, and when you’re working and maybe planning a trip to see family and this and that and the other, time really does get away from you.
My wife and I have one thing we enjoy doing every Christmas season, and it’s visiting the Cheekwood Botanical Garden to see the lights and decorations. In fact, we have tickets to go Tuesday evening. We also enjoy walking through the Opryland Hotel to see their ornate decor, although this is not something we do every year. Still, it will be nice if we can set aside an evening for that endeavor sometime during the next 3 weeks.
The Christmas shopping is finished. We bought the last couple of presents the evening before last. in the meantime, one or two packages arrives every day, and we wrap them as they show up. There’s a burgeoning stash underneath the tree already with more still to go.
Anyway, you know how plans go. At the start of every Christmas season (which seemed to start earlier this year than usual), we talk about the things we’d like to do. Yet a lot of what we’d like to do doesn’t get done, and there’s nothing lamentable about that. I’d rather leave plans unfulfilled than try to cram all of our plans into a tight calendar, because then you run the risk of rendering yourself too busy to enjoy anything. And I don’t want to ruin the season with excessive busyness.
We’ll take an overnight trip to see family the week of Christmas, but we’ll be back home for the actual holiday. (Can we possibly make it until the 25th before opening presents?) I enjoy doing things during the Christmas season, but I also enjoy evenings at home with the family, especially with everything lit up. It’s only a few weeks out of every year, and sometimes home and family are the best plans you can make during Christmas. Striving for perfection usually leads to disappointment. It’s best to slow down and accept things as they are.
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(The following op/ed ran in the Lebanon Democrat on December 23, 2008.)
On the night Jesus was born, a star shone in the sky such as had never been seen before. We know the star could be seen from afar, as the Gospel of Matthew tells us that Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and inquired, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star in the east and have come to worship him.”
King Herod heard of the inquiry and was disturbed that there was another King of the Jews. So he called together the chief priests and teachers of the law, asking them where the Christ was to be born.
“In Bethlehem in Judea,” he was told, “for this is what the prophet [Micah] has written: ‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will be the shepherd of my people Israel.’”
King Herod then summoned the Magi in secret, asking them the exact time the star had appeared. He sent the Magi to Bethlehem and said, “Go and make a careful search for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”
After they had heard the king, the Magi went on their way, and the star they had seen in the east went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.
We don’t know a great deal about the Magi, except that they came from the east. We often refer to them as the three wise men or three kings, but they were probably nothing more than superstitious astrologers who knew nothing of the Jewish faith or the prophecies that told of a coming Messiah, which makes their appearance at Joseph and Mary’s front door all the more remarkable.
Most nativity scenes depict the presence of the Magi bearing gifts, but the Magi weren’t present at the manger on the night Christ was born. They only began their journey then or shortly thereafter, and their journey probably lasted a couple of years, as the Christ is here referred to as “the child,” and not “the baby,” as he is called in the Gospel of Luke on the night he was born.
At any rate, when they arrived at the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. The Magi then presented the child with their gifts of gold, incense, and myrrh (referred to as “treasures” in the Gospel in Matthew) — not exactly practical gifts for a peasant Jewish family, but when you’re giving gifts to the Messiah, no gift is ever too good.
Afterward, having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, the Magi began their journey home, back to their own country, taking a different route. By all implication, the three Magi were all warned separately, in different dreams, suggesting a divine revelation.
Once the Magi had departed, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, saying “Get up, take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.”
By this time, angels of the Lord had established a pretty good track record with Joseph, and so he did not wait. He took the child and his mother during the night and left for Egypt, where they remained until the death of King Herod, thus fulfilling a prophecy of Hosea, “Out of Egypt I called my son.”
Meanwhile, when King Herod discovered that he had been outwitted, he became furious, and issued his famous decree that all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity aged two years and under be killed, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi. Thus, what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was also fulfilled: “A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.”
After King Herod died, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt instructing him to “Get up, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who were trying to take the child’s life are dead.”
Once again, Joseph did as he was told. He took the child and his mother back to Israel. But when Joseph heard that Archelaus was reigning in Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go back. Having been warned in yet another dream, Joseph instead withdrew to the district of Galilee, and he, Mary, and the Christ lived in a town called Nazareth. So was fulfilled what was said through the prophets: “He will be called a Nazarene.”
No one can be exactly sure why the Magi play such a prominent role in the birth story of the Christ. They were unlikely characters, having come from a different country, with a different culture, a different language, and a different religion.
Despite this, they were still able to find the Christ child after merely following a star and asking a few questions. King Herod, on the other hand, had the Christ child right under his nose in Judea, yet was never able to get his hands on the real King of the Jews.
Perhaps the irony of this unlikely series of events is the reason for its inclusion in Christ’s birth story, that the Lord God wanted to add one more wonder to a story that was already filled with miracles and the fulfillment of prophecies that were made centuries before.
There is no way the Magi could have known that their journey, their encounter with King Herod, and their presentation of gifts from the East to the Christ child would be preserved in the most-printed book of all time, to be read by persons in many languages, from all over the world, across two millennia.
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Of course it does, although Christmas means different things to a person at various stages of life. As a child, it’s purely about Santa Claus and opening presents. As a parent, it’s about playing Santa Claus and indulging the children. Now that the child is grown, it’s about the experience. (Perhaps we shall be grandparents someday and repeat the cycle.) In the meantime, it’s not about seeing how much you can squeeze in, but how much you can take out.
Earlier this month, my wife and I went to Cheekwood Botanical Garden to see the lights. That’s an experience we always make time for every Christmas season. We each were able to attend our respective work parties. (Mine was only last Thursday.) And for the second year in a row, we hosted my wife’s family Christmas (yesterday, in fact) where the house is alway packed and there’s more food than we can possibly all eat. Most of them we only get to see this one time a year. It’s always a pleasure to play catch-up. Everyone thanks us for hosting, like it’s a burden. We’re centrally located amongst the various families, so it only makes sense to have it here. Honestly, I enjoy not having to travel. It’s a luxury to be able to stay home. Naturally, the highlight is watching the children tear open their gifts. (And there are a lot!)
I work Christmas Eve and am off work Christmas and the day after. It doesn’t always work out that day. Tomorrow, we’ll visit my mother-in-law, and then my mother is coming here on Christmas. This is the first Christmas I can remember — possibly the first Christmas ever — where we aren’t leaving Mt. Juliet.
Aside from the experiences of Christmas — and it can be something as simple as turning on the Christmas tree at night while the rest of the house remains dark or telling Alexa to play something festive — I do like to open a few gifts. Truthfully, there’s really nothing I need, but I don’t feel guilty about indulging in the rare act of asking for something I merely want.
I’m not one to sit back and reminisce about Christmases past, although there are plenty of them. They all have their place, but they’re all in the past, and there are plenty of Christmases still to come. The one we’re living right now is the most important.
Christmas this year isn’t going to feel much like Christmas. It’s going to be nearly 70 degrees. Somehow this doesn’t seem right, but I still plan to enjoy the day. We’re going to put on a roast and enjoy some apple cider and at least pretend as though it’s winter outside.
The thing I’ve come to believe and to appreciate is that Christmas is what you make it. Yes, it’s the day we celebrate the birth of Christ, although we’re not absolutely sure what day He was born on. December 25th is just as good as any to recount the story of the miraculous birth and all the subplots contained in Scripture regarding the manger. I don’t want to get away from that.
But there’s a secular aspect to Christmas, too, and we Americans have our own traditions that have evolved over time. There’s nothing wrong with Santa Claus and Christmas trees and festive music and exchanging gifts and feasting and all the things we do around this time of year, as long as we keep things in perspective.
Gratitude is the best antidote to letting the holiday get away from you. We might say we’re thankful for all that we have but then we expect more. What if you received no gifts? Would it still be Christmas to you? Maybe not for a child, but with maturity, as the desire for material gain subsides and the desire for experiences takes its place, sure. It would still be Christmas.
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Last evening, Mrs. Lefty and I made the annual Christmastime trip out to the Cheekwood Botanical Garden to see the Christmas lights. The place is always done up spectacularly. They outdo themselves bit-by-bit each year, and this year was positively the best. We made it there for the 5 p.m. opening; it was almost completely dark when we arrived. We were literally the first ones in. There was a threat of rain, but it held off until after we left. It was mild but the wind was gusty. It was perfect for a windbreaker, but no more. (I felt slightly cheated. I always want it to be frigid.) Still, it was a quite pleasant evening. The crowd was small (owing to the early hour and the rainy forecast). Taking outdoor snapshots of Christmas lights is tricky with a smartphone, but I captured several that are worth sharing.