Merry Christmas 2009

1 of my Top 4 Christmas songs

I heard the bells on Christmas day
      Their old familiar carols play,
      And wild and sweet the words repeat
      Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And thought how, as the day had come,
      The belfries of all Christendom
      Had rolled along th’ unbroken song
      Of peace on earth, good will to men.
Till ringing, singing on its way
      The world revolved from night to day,
      A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
      Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And in despair I bowed my head:
      “There is no peace on earth,” I said,
      “For hate is strong and mocks the song
      Of peace on earth, good will to men.”
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
      “God is not dead, nor does He sleep;
      The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
      With peace on earth, good will to men.”

-- Henry W. Longfellow

I must say that this is one of my top 4 ‘Christmas’ songs.  I love the timelessness of the truth, the honesty with which it assesses the state of the world and the hope it speaks of for the prevailing power of God to overcome and establish the peace that all men seek.  I love the movement of the lyrics and the notion of bells that ring of truth.  Of course, not knowing the truth, one would not know of what they ring.  But knowing it brings a sigh of relief to my soul.

By the way, my other 3 (not necessarily in order of priority) are:

• Hallelujah Chorus
• Oh, Holy Night
• Snow Angel

December 2009

...more stuff here.

Where We Least Expect Him

Those who believe in God can never in a way be sure of him again.  Once they have seen him in a stable, they can never be sure where he will appear or to what lengths he will go or to what ludicrous of depths self-humiliation he will descend in his wild pursuit of man. If holiness and the awful power and majesty of God were present in this least auspicious of all events, this birth of a peasant’s child, then there is no place or time so lowly and earthbound but that holiness can be present there too.  And this means that we are never safe, that there is no place where we can hide from God, no place where we are safe from his power to break in two and recreate the human heart because it is just where he seems most helpless that he is most strong, and just where we least expect him that he comes most fully.

-- Frederick Buechner

Busyness -- Not as Good as it Might Seem

Busyness.  There seems to be merit to the notion that busyness is a good thing, to the extent it that complements the notion that “idle time is the devil’s time”.  Perhaps there are other merits, too, to being 'busy' like the accomplishment of things, the production of things, the growth that comes from experiencing different things, from being challenged, from being used up…in good ways.

But lately I have been wondering more about the risks and threats of too much busyness, at least in my own life.  There is something about busyness that is self-perpetuating, like a self-made inertia.  One, in fact, that seems hard to stop or even steer.   It also seems to breed something inside of me that creates distance from myself, from others.  A something that feels like a kind of independence, a self-sufficiency of sorts.  Busyness calls upon something naturally bent towards achieving efficiencies in life, which on the surface don't necessarily seem like a bad thing…but often seem to mask my attempts to control more and more of life.   Where, in fact, have the virtues of efficiency been spawned?  I was wondering recently, for example, where notions of efficiency are honored in things like faith, and in the Scriptures.  Is it ever even mentioned? 

Busyness' off-spring, efficiency, seems to beckon something more deeply in me each time it calls. It seems to try to pack more and more of life into smaller segments of time.  And, it ever so subtlety, at least along the way, seems to turn into a requirement for things to work down to the minute, if not the second.  Something seems awry under such an approach to life, especially when it sneakily become a quest in life.  It isn’t always obvious how it goes about its work, but something is ‘off kilter’.  Busyness seems to leave less room for things that don’t comply with the model…of efficiency, of effectiveness.  It seems to try to intimidate or overshadow things that don’t fit the mold of getting things done, leaving less and less opportunity to recognize the value of mystery, of waiting, of wondering at things that aren’t obvious in deference to things that are, or appear to be. 

I’ve also noticed that it waters in me a root of something that requires something of others that it shouldn’t…the least of which is a kind of expected cooperation with my tightening agenda on things…and the greater of which seems to be a judgment about others that has little room for humility about who they are and that turns them into something of value relative to what I need to get done.  Efficiency seems to deny the virture of patience and the God of it, promoting a false sense of value within that is based on a kind of productivity that God doesn’t seem to recognize as very valuable to our need to learn about our dependence (on Him), rather than our independence. 

Busyness, at least mine, seems to leave a taste in my mouth, an aroma for others that doesn’t draw together…rather, it seems to create distance in nearly all directions inwardly and outwardly.

I am less and less comfortable with the fruits I see of busyness.  I am less and less comfortable with the size I have to remain to be so busy.  I want to be smaller, less important; more willing to respond to promptings within and without...than evaluating such opportunities for their impact on what I need to get done.

Fighting Myself

When I vacillated about my decision to serve the Lord my God, it was I who willed, and I who willed not, and nobody else. I was fighting against myself. All you asked is that I cease to want what I willed, and begin to want what you willed.

-- St. Augustine