Fear Not! You Can't Ruin Christmas

 The angel came to the shepherds yesterday.  Without his name badge with a Celestial Picture and his name on it.  The shepherds were "sore afraid".  If you look at angelic visits in the Old Testament you might well understand why they were afraid.  They may have been more afraid thinking it was an angel than a ghost.  Old Ebeneezer (ask your folks what that name means and see if they know.  You can thank them if they do) had visits from both ghosts and angels during his night of revelation.  I'm not sure which would have frightened me more-Jacob with his head cloth holding his mouth shut and his chains and warnings, or the "ghost" of Christmas Future" with his dire visions of want and ignorance.

The next may seem like a non sequitur (another opportunity to see how smart your spouse or parents may be) but I will connect everything in a bit.

Some blogs ago I told the tale of the Edge boys awakening in Christmas' early morning hours about the year of 1959 and, being the considerate young men (9, 7, 5 years old) decided to not awaken their folks.  Instead, we thought we could well sort out the presents under the tree without parental assistance.  We started with unwrapping and divvying up the goods, progressed to ripping and tearing and playing with everything.  Once we thought we had everything sorted out we wondered why mom and dad weren't up joining in the fun yet.  One of us-I won't tell you that it was the eldest brother (Randy)-thought it would be hilarious if we used a shiny new pop gun as an alarm.  At about 4 AM.

After the very loud "POP" both of our parents vaulted out of their bed thinking that home and hearth might be under attack.  It was funny.  For about 3 seconds.  Neither appeared to be overjoyed in our manner of inviting them to come play.

As they entered the chaos room-formally known as the living room-both sat down in wonder and despair.  Mom put her head in her hands, wept, and loudly announced that we three boys had "Ruined Christmas!".

Indeed, as the responsible middle child, I took this personally and have felt a bit of shame (even though the memories bring back a few chuckles) for ruining Christmas some 60 plus years ago.  I'm sure we boys tried to "ruin Christmas" (without knowing that was what we were doing) a few more times.

Then I realized something this week.  I CAN'T RUIN CHRISTMAS!  NEITHER CAN YOU!  NO MATTER WHAT!

It all has to do with what the angel told those shepherds long ago on those dark but glorious plains.  The "Good News" leading to great joy for everyone.  "For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord".  That changed everything.  Because now, Easter would happen!  Well, not especially the stuff about chicks and eggs, but the miracles of overcoming death and hell.  For "all people"!  

This Babe of Bethlehem was the literal Son of God-much more than the Jews were looking for-who, from the beginning, was to be our Saviour.  And nothing could change or "ruin" that.  He would live His Perfect life, Atone for all of us, break the bands of death and make  our unimaginable eternal home assessable to us.  And nothing could or would change that. 

So, if you or your bratty, er, I mean rambunctious kids get up and destroy the presents in the middle of the night or "discover" the perfect gift where you hid it two weeks before Christmas or throw a fit in the middle of the Christmas concert or just act like a moody teenager-Christmas isn't ruined.  We are all still delivered from those monsters of death and hell.

Every time we drive toward the freeway on 90th South this time of year I recall that a family had a horrendous wreck near the river years ago during Christmas.  Lives were lost and bodies damaged and hearts broken.  Every Christmas season as this world turns there are tragedies large and small, personal and remote.  Growing up, we had several Christmases with more heartache than holiday.  In spite of all of this, "Christmas" can't be "ruined".  We all have the eternal gifts of Life and Heaven made available through that Babe in Bethlehem.  Nothing can change that.  For God so loves you, and me, and all people that He sent His Only Begotten to save us.

So, if, in your short-or lengthy-life have had difficulties this time of year, I'm sorry, but please look up, realize what the Plan is, and rejoice.  If you haven't had things go "wrong" during the "holiday season", good for you, but realize that you probably will at some time in your earthly journey.  And when troubles and heartache and tragedy visit, please know in your heart that we have a Savior who is "mighty to save" who has indeed done just that, and find a reason to rejoice and "fear not", as our friendly Ghost from the shepherds' fields would tell us.

Fear Not!

 OK-I don't know for sure if the angel shouted "Fear Not" or if he spoke it in a more comforting voice.  I do know that there have been times in my life when I needed some "Fear Not!" loud enough to get my attention  away from my fears so I could do what needed doing.  The most recent was  a week ago.  Grandma and I had been asked to tell stories at our ward Christmas dinner-something about the Nativity.  We agreed of course, even though this is a very scary thing for me.  Grandma prepared a very entertaining story and she, along with help from her stage crew (me) had the kids and adults engrossed and engaged as she shared a very timely tale.  We had the few kids in the ward-ward members and guests-sitting on the red rug just a few feet in front of us.  I handled the props well and provided the "music" and Grandma was animated and amusing as she told her tale.  The kids watched and listened and enjoyed.

When she was done and it was my turn to tell a tale, the kids were, well, almost done.  I could see them fidgeting and squirming early on.  Then there was a bit of full-on wrestling.  I had to tell myself a few times to "fear not".  We eventually got through the story without anyone being injured.  Yay!

Those poor shepherds.  They were out in the dark of night-no city lights-in the wild protecting their sheep when the angel "came upon them".  Of course they were afraid.  So the instruction, counsel, admonition (yes, use that last one please) to "fear not" was probably the best thing the angel could have told them.  

You know those lanyards that we all have to wear to work or at conferences and such-those things hanging around our necks with our names and positions on them?  All of your teachers wear them.  As do almost everyone else. I'm supposed to wear mine when I go to people's homes to do my work.  Do you know one reason we wear those?  Perhaps it is to put others at ease that this is someone with an official name badge and picture who belongs here and has a role to fill.  Not just a random person, or, in the shepherds' case, some ghost with nefarious purposes.  

Maybe it would have been easier if the angel had had his picture, name and title hanging around his neck.  Or maybe the glory shinning around him was enough.

Even better, the angel went on to tell these keepers of sheep and lambs that he had brought them "good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people".  The fact that the angel was bringing good tidings probably helped relieve the shepherds' fears. At least a bit.  Now their flight or fight responses would be inhibited and they could hear the Good Tidings to follow.  Tomorrow.

Don't blame me for stopping mid story, blame the giant advent calendar one of you sent us!

Note-I know we didn't start this on 1 Dec so we missed the first few days.  We may (or may not) try to revisit those first few days if I can see places to easily do it.  As always, it's all about Grandpa's convenience.  

Another note-I've been thinking the past few weeks that all of us, perhaps, should start wearing picture name badges with the title "Child of God" on them.  Maybe it would help us all see each other a bit more clearly and with more charity.  And with less fear.  Except for those stinkin' dentists.. I may always fear them, even if I pretend otherwise.  I might change the title on the one I have from "PT" (for Physical Therapist) to "COG" and see if anyone notices.  I'll let you know.

Three Brief Thoughts

 Have you ever been out wandering in the back country with no trail and just a vague sense of direction and no real destination?  That describes yesterday's blog thoughts.  But since it is unlikely that these thoughts will enlighten any  brain cells, heart strings or screen pixels other than this one, that's OK!

When we are wandering as noted above, sometimes we need to find some game trail, path, or stream to follow.  One could always backtrack, but who wants to do that?  If all else fails, what's the advice-head downhill and you should find water which should lead to some track, trail, path, road.

So that's what I'm doing tonight-heading downhill and seeing where I end up.

So I promised thoughts on the "Nu ar det Jul Igen" lyrics.  Did you look them up?  Then you know that the first (and repeating verse) translates as something like "now it's Christmas again, and now it's Christmas again and Christmas lasts until Easter".  When I first heard this it made little sense to me.  Perhaps that's due to the fact that I focused on the feasting that would occur on Christmas Eve.  And Christmas.  And Second Day Christmas (yes, that's a real holiday).  I couldn't see past the marzipan pigs, smoked salmon, Christmas sausage, delectable baked goods, and lutefisk to note the connection that Christmas and Easter have as expressed in our little song.  Other than holiday food. We could plan on being fed at both holidays. It was just a fun song and tune that gave us an excuse to romp around the Christmas tree, always on the lookout for the next treat. 

Sometimes we look past the Mark searching for the next marzipan pig...

The verse on our Advent calendar today is the one following yesterday's (convenient, don't you think?) about shepherds abiding in the fields watching over their flocks.  So today and angel comes to them and the shepherds-out in the fields with no lights other than heavenly ones-are "sore afraid".  I don't recall being so frightened that I got sore but Grandma has told me she gets a pain deep in her gut when she sees you kids/grandkids near the edge of high places, so maybe being "sore afraid" is a real phenomenon.   But I can easily imagine these good people tasked with caring for their flocks of sheep, lambs and kids (both kinds) being frightened by a gloriously bright being coming toward them.  Perhaps they thought it was a ghost, as in a real ghost or something supernatural.  My guess is that they hadn't ever experienced something like this before.  I know that when we are out in the backcountry at night and I hear a sound, imagine a light, sense unexpected movement-I get the chill up my back and my lizard brain kicks in and it feels like flight or fight time.  We were on an Oregon beach at 4 AM a few years ago when I saw a line of bright lights moving across the ink black sky.  I knew it had to be an alien invasion and my body was gearing up to run!  Until Megan told me it was just Elon's starlink satellites!  Yeah, I felt a bit dumb.  

And I think that all of us can be frightened by things that are new to us.

Tomorrow-the good council from this frightening angelic messenger.

OK?- I covered some about "Nu ar det Jul Igen" lyrics, mentioned food a time or two and did a little pontificating about scary angels.  Good enough for today?  Good Night!

It is Indeed Christmas Time Again!

 I had been in Sweden about 4 1/2 months when my first Christmas season as a missionary began.  I was starting to get a decent handle on the language, except for my very American accent, and was past the point of wanting to run away back home.  It was too far to run to anyway.  I had settled in as a now- senior companion in Gotenborg.  That meant I was supposed to be responsible for my junior companion, our branch and our area.  Seemed like a lot for a youngster without a lot of mission/church background.  But I was too inexperienced to realize how much responsibility I had.  I knew how to work, how to function with as a team and how to listen to and follow directions from our leaders.

So we worked hard (not always smart or spirit-led, I think), studied, played, wrote letters and in journals and did the things we were supposed to.

But it was Sweden.  And winter.  And Dark!  Even though Goteborg is in southern Sweden the daylight was measly and short.  Sunrise about 9 AM, sunset about 3 PM.  That sounds like 6 hours of sun, but the angle of the sun was so low that it seemed like we only had a couple hours of sunshine in that 6 hours, as the sun only got 8 or 9 degrees above the horizon for much of the winter.  When we had snow it sure wasn't Utah Powder.  It was slushy and not pretty most of the time.  So we were often wet and cold and in the dark.  And hungry.  What was kind of wonderful was all the wonderful aromas we encountered as goodies were baked in preparation for the Christmas feasting.  But what we got was mostly just the aromas.

The members didn't seem to feed the missionaries much while I was in Sweden.  I was/am very grateful for the times we were fed! But it didn't seem often enough. I remember thinking even those 50 years ago--I just realized that it was 50 years ago this year-what a golden memory!  Ok, I think I just got sidetracked again.  It happens.  Yes-I was whining about being a poor, cold-in-the-dark starving missionary.  But hey, everybody's a baby about something, right?  I am pretty sure I wrote a little about my first mission Christmas but that won't stop me from repeating myself.  Kind of expected from someone a half century removed from his mission, don't you think?

We were invited to celebrate Christmas Eve-the Big Christmas day-at a family's home outside of Goteborg.  This was a great family with several small children and we looked forward to this day off from knocking on seldom-opened-doors and bothering nice people who were busy getting ready for Christmas.  And there was much preparation for Christmas!  We counted down the days, but not in an Advent way.

Now that was a lengthy run up to today's point, about to which I am now getting! (How convoluted was that sentence?!)

Last week I found a large, rectangular package on our porch.  I asked Vick if she had ordered a large print of something, she responded that she hadn't.  I opened it and found a Giant Advent calendar-one huge page for each day with a short excerpt from the nativity account. A nice gift from one of our kids.  You know who you are-thanks!  So I thought I might make a short daily entry in this seldom perused blogging place about the season.  Some of them may even be related to that day's Advent calendar's excerpts.  Except when they aren't.  Like today's.  Here it is.  Don't try to figure out how things are related yet-I haven't!

The first Swedish Christmas song I learned was "Nu ar det Jul igen".  If you are reading this you can find the lyrics online even without the double dots above the "a" in "ar".  Take a look, listen to it and the catchy tune may well be your ear companion for a day or two.  

We'll talk about the lyrics and more about Swedish Christmas food next time-tomorrow. 

Hope and Joy

 What do you think was the most important pronouncement for all humankind ever spoken?

Sunday, at last! (no, that's not it, but close!)  His disciples had been through more than they ever imagined over the past two days.  Jesus being betrayed, taken away, scoured and crucified.  Their Savior-He who had told them that He was the Son of God and that His kingdom had come to Earth-had given His life on the cross.  Then he had been laid in a tomb, lifeless.

The women came-of course it was the women first-to the tomb early in the morning after the Sabbath.  They came to finish the anointment and embalmment of His body, which had not been finished before He was laid in the tomb just prior to the Sabbath. They worried about gaining access to the tomb-"who shall roll away the stone?".  Well, they needed not be concerned about gaining entrance, as an angel (or two) had come in the night, frightened away with their very glory the Roman soldiers, and rolled away the stone.

When Mary and the other women approached the tomb the angel told them “Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay. And go quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead;". 

The women quickly inspected the now empty tomb and hurried back to tell the apostles.  Peter and John ran to see and found the tomb empty.  Mary made her quick return.  While Peter and John were in  the tomb, someone approached Mary.  Mary had heard the angel proclaim "He is not here" but maybe didn't fully understand "...For He is risen, as he said".  She only knew that He was not there and asked the gardener, as she assumed, where He had been taken so she could complete her loving service in anointing and embalming His body.  It was then that He revealed his resurrected self to her and her hope turned to joy.

Unimaginable and infinite grace and mercy was pronounced on each of us with the angel's utterance of "...he is risen, as he said."  The most important declaration ever spoken.

Because He is indeed risen, we celebrate His atonement and resurrection on this holy day.  There was, in His time, still much work to do, as there still is.  Work to change all mankind and  each of us.  That means me.  And you.  And even you!  We get to learn, have faith, grow, stumble and fall, and rise again-until we become more like him.

The second most important declaration we all long to hear?  Because He did His Father's will and He is indeed risen, when we are each, one by one, again in His embrace, may we hear, as he lovingly calls us by our name,  "Well done, my good and faithful servant".

More Things Broken

 Saturday.  The day after He was crucified and laid in a tomb.  His followers and friends and family all witnessed this.  As we talked about yesterday, I am sure their hearts were broken.  

Have you ever had something happen to you that you thought all hope was lost?  Lost something you thought was irretrievable?  Done something that you thought was irreversible?  Became something you were sure could never change into something better, stronger, holier?  Well, Saturday was, for His disciples, such a day.  They had seen Him heal, bless, restore sight and hearing and health and even life itself.  He had taught them of the Kingdom of God and told them it was here with them.

Now He was gone.  But where had He gone?  

He had gone to break a few more things.

He broke the grave wide open.  "Oh death, where is thy sting?  Oh grave, where is thy victory?"  His followers didn't know it yet, but death would no longer be the end.  Because of Him, all of us will live again.  All of us will be made alive.  He broke the bands of death.

He also broke the gates of hell.  No longer would they open only one way.  Now the inhabitants could learn of Him, develop faith in Him, repent of their sins and have saving ordinances made in their behalf so they could return to their Father and their Heavenly Home.  And don't we all long for home?

Yesterday we mentioned that when He died on the cross, the earth itself broke in places to mourn His suffering.  The veil in His Father's house rent, symbolizing that all, through Jesus, can return to live with our Heavenly Parents again if that is what we wish.

Despair was broken.  Never again would mankind-that includes me, you and even you!-be slaves to death and hell.  He provides the way Home.  To live with each other.  We all have hope because of Him.

"And what is it that ye shall hope for? Behold I say unto you that ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ and the power of his resurrection, to be raised unto life eternal, and this because of your faith in him according to the promise."  Thank you, Moroni, for this reminder.

Some broken things are blessings.  Our broken hearts, because of Him, can be hopeful hearts that lead us to work in faith to learn, grow, serve, rejoice and become.  Because of Him.

A Good Friday For Broken Things

 "Good Friday"  I don't recall hearing about Good Friday as I was growing up in South Salt Lake.  It was probably, maybe, mentioned in a primary or Sunday school class, but that was so long ago that it would be deeply buried in my gray matter.  I remember some things about my church meetings from my teenage years at the Butler 12th Ward, but nothing is coming to mind about this holy day.  I don't think it was a thing from my mission days in the Lutheran-dominated world of Sweden.  People there went to church on Christmas and Easter, but, again I don't recall anything about Good Friday, even though Wikipedia tells me that it is an observed holiday by Lutherans.  Actually, I think it has just been in recent years that I have become more aware of the significance of this Holy Day.

We all know of the events of Good Friday and the day/night before.  They began with the Last Supper with all of His wonderful teachings and love demonstrated to his disciples, continued through Gethsemane, the betrayal, arrest, conviction, flogging, thorn-crowning, cross bearing, and ridicule.  They continued on this day-Good Friday-with His crucifixion.  Which ended with Jesus willingly fulfilling his Father's will and willingly giving up his mortal life-"no man taketh if from me".  This "good" day ended with our Savior lying in a borrowed tomb, his body not yet properly prepared and anointed for burial, as the Sabbath began before all could be completed.

Since I became more aware of Good Friday, I have often asked myself what those around the Savior found to be "good" on this day.  Now we, knowing how the story ends, can see the significance of the events and know of the need for Jesus to be "bruised, broken and torn for us" on that hill, even if we don't understand it, can see how these events were "good".  But what about His disciples who had been waiting oh, so long for the Messiahs to deliver them?  His family and friends who were so close to him and loved him?  And the twelve, now eleven, who had been through so much, had seen and done miracles in His name, had looked to Him to usher His kingdom into the world?  And now He was gone, his body in a tomb.

I think there were other things broken on that Good Friday, in addition to the Savior's mortal body.  Some must have had their hopes for a Messiahs-a deliverer-dashed and broken on that stony hill.  We know there were rules, laws, traditions broken in order to arrest, convict, and crucify Him.  I believe that those dearest to Him-Mary his mother and Mary and the other women, his apostles, his friends like Mary and Martha and Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead, must have had broken souls and broken hearts and wept bitter tears.  I am sure there were others who had not been "official" disciples, like the Roman soldier, whose hearts also ached as they watched the events of that "good" day.

But what else was broken?  We will talk of other marvelous truths tomorrow about broken things that He caused and which make it possible for us to return to Him.

In the meantime, let us remember what He suffered on this day and the night before.  For me.  For you.  And, yes, even you! And if, as we consider the Garden and the Cross, our hearts become broken, even a little bit cracked, because of his love for you, and me, and all of us, let us remember that He has asked us to bring these broken hearts to Him and put them on His alter so He can heal and sanctify them.  Broken things can be remade perfectly if we give them to Him. Hearts and hopes and even our lives.  He is might to heal and mighty to save.  Even me.  And you.  And even you!

Good Friday to you all!