I have spoken in past blogs (Childish Nativity) (Christmas Decor) about my collection of nativity sets, and how I love them. I have also spoken of how very much a nativity depiction by children is the most meaningful to me. Sure, adults can memorize lines and be where they need to be, as the script demands, but really, the first nativity was played out with only the grand director knowing what would come next.
The above video depicts a beautiful Christmas nativity, live.
Sometimes, my words are too inadequate to tell a story. So, for today, I will just sign off encouraging you, the reader to sit back (for only about four minutes) and capture the wonder and excitement that the children in the video share … just being kids.
God sent His son in the same form that we have all entered this world. Helpless, small, and easy to relate to by anyone, from any culture, anywhere around our world, in any time of history. I think God knew what He was doing, when He chose to send His son to us, as we have entered the world.
Songs like ‘Away in a Manger’, ‘Silent Night’, ‘The First Noel’, ‘Oh Holy Night’, ‘What Child is this’, and ‘Mary’s Boy Child’ (hum, memories of Boney M … maybe not this song), can be sung sincerely by those who believe in Jesus as their Messiah, as well as by people who simply feel they are singing a nice song about a historical figure.
A baby … unites people.
Recently I was thinking about the baby Jesus as I was singing a familiar Christmas carol to myself (to myself, because anyone in their right mind would never want to hear me sing out loud). The carol is “Christ the Lord is Born Today”, and the first verse goes like this:
“Christ the Lord is born today, Alleluia!
Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heav’ns, and earth, reply, Alleluia!”
When I sought the rest of the lyrics, I realized that I had the lyrics wrong. The song is actually, “Christ the Lord is Risen Today.” I had gotten Christmas confused with Easter, I had gotten birth confused with death and resurrection.
But did I?
This tortured and bloodied man, was drawn into the blueprints before Mary was ‘with child.’ This picture, this messy, bloody, sickening picture, is why the baby was conceived and born. He, the baby we place (and, to be honest, we leave there, from Christmas, to Christmas, to Christmas) in the manger, was our sacrificial lamb, our redeemer. He, that baby in Mary’s arms, was to pay for the sins of the world, for the sins of me.
But, a bloodied man, dying on a cross … divides people.
God knew what He was doing, when He chose to bring the Messiah to us in the form of a baby. He knew that we could never fully grasp the way that we would be redeemed, saved. He knew what He was doing, and He still does.
One of my favorite artists of today, Ron DiCianni, created the painting to the right. To quote it’s description, “Heaven’s Loss dramatically depicts that while mankind was celebrating the birth of a King, the angels were weeping for they knew what man did not. They knew Jesus was not born for Christmas – He was born for Easter.”
Charles Wesley also understood the price paid for his own redemption, when he wrote this hymn nearly two hundred and fifty years ago. Maybe it is not so wrong to sing it as we celebrate the birth of the one who did the loving, redeeming sacrificial act, and not just at Easter.
I mentioned before that I collect nativity sets (Christmas Decor). And as a teacher would say to her kindergarten class, I love them all (hum, actually I am not sure a kindergarten teacher would say, or would be able to say, ‘I love them all’ … but that is a topic for another day). Truly, I do have my favorites, though.
There is the one that is a magnet advent calendar, painted ever so beautifully. Or the one that is a metal tree ornament, and when you place a light bulb from the tree lights through it’s base, the nativity shines brightly. Or the ceramic one that, was played with constantly when our oldest was a toddler. One day she placed the baby into the pocket of her overalls, and it went through the wash. Baby Jesus came out with a skinned bottom … kind of added a realistic side to the Christ child.
But, my very favorite is an all white resin one, with a light hidden in the top. All of the characters of the nativity are children, dressed up as though for a Christmas pageant, all standing on a stage and it’s stairs looking intently … so intently, at the real baby in the manger. To me it always reminds me of the wonder that drew all those characters to the babe in the first place.
To me, there is no more beautiful way to portray the nativity, than with children. And the younger, the better! There is little ‘acting’ involved for young children, as they simply act out the story that has been told to them many times. And they act it out as they imagine it … full of awe and wonder. Full of the awe and wonder that was there that first Christmas.
We adults are too … mature … to be free to see it, to smell it and to feel it in our souls, as a little child.
As this season moves closer to December twenty-forth and twenty-fifth, my heart increases it’s cry for this picture of the nativity. My heart increases in it’s longing to feel and know the awe and wonder of what we are celebrating. It increases in it’s cry to “just give me Jesus.”
Confession time … I do not like the Little Drummer Boy Christmas song. W A Y back when I was a kid it was my favorite song, and favorite Christmas TV special. But, as I got older my fondness for it has waned dramatically … until now.
Last week (November 30) a young man from Winnipeg, Manitoba posted his version on Youtube which has gone viral (as of today it has just under two hundred thousand hits … only four days after being posted). This version is changing my perspectives towards the Little Drummer Boy song.
Sean Quigley, a sixteen year old high school student designed the arrangement. He directed, edited, recorded, and played instruments, as well as mixed it into what you can view above. WOW!
I have to say I totally love the rockier, modern version he has created. It is fun, and demands a response of toe tapping at the very least.
As I watched I was awed by his gifts, I was moved by his passion, and I was curious about his motivation. Did he know of what, and of who he was singing? Was it just a song? Or was he, like the little drummer boy he was belting out lyrics about, a poor boy with nothing to give but that which God put within him, in the form of his gifts and talents?
When an interviewer told Sean Quigley that Justin Bieber started this (Youtube) way, and asked if he dreams the same for himself, Sean responded this way:
“I wouldn’t say that being recognized is the dream. I just want people to remember what Christmas is about. It’s not about Santa, it’s not about presents, it’s about the birth of Christ, and that’s whats most important to me right now.”
YES! The message, and the messenger are in sync!
Somehow knowing that makes the validity, the power of his expression of his gifts all the more beautiful, knowing that he is acknowledging not just his gifts, but the giver of those same gifts, talents and abilities. And he is quite literally playing out the lyrics the song ends with.
“I played my drum for him,
I played my best for him,
Then he smiled at me, (Pa rum pum pum pum)
Me and my drum”
Is there any edible token of the Christmas season that is more common than the sugar cookie, cut out and decorated festively?
The other day was Christmas cookie baking and decorating day. I had made the dough, and icing of various colors.
Only our youngest daughter, and our student from China decided to participate in this event. Our daughter from China was so excited to be making Christmas cookies for the first time. First time experiences create an atmosphere that just makes you want to be around.
Over a period of about two hours, the two girls (plus periodic visiting participants) rolled, cut out, baked and decorated about four dozen cookies. They chatted, giggled, gave each other decorating advice, sang Christmas songs, and compared their creations.
What a beautiful thing to have opportunity to introduce and share in the first experiences of our sweet girl from China. To see her excitedly jumping up and down, awaiting for everything to be ready to make cut out cookies for the first time gave our home a feel of excitement liken to … Christmas.
Christmas is a time of excitement, a time of wonder and anticipation. That is why, at this season, we sing “Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel.” Isaiah 7:14 is where this beautiful, ages old Christmas carol originates. It states, “Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.” And the excitement for the coming Messiah began.
This carol communicates lament, or mourning. And yet, it is a most popular of all hymns of the advent season. A season of anticipation, of wonder of … excitement. What a contrast it is to pair lamenting and anticipation. But, truly we lament, we mourn most productively when we acknowledge that our mourning is for a season, and that God’s providential hand will, indeed, work it all our for the greater good.
And what better good could there be than Emmanuel, the one who came to save. The one that was anticipated, as Israel mourned her loses.
When we sing Oh Come, Oh Come Emmanuel this season, may we do so with the excitement and anticipation (and wonder) of our young girl from China, who couldn’t wait for the time to make sugar cookies. May we sing with our mouths, and with our hearts, “Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.”
Not a creature was stirring, not even a louse (check out Nitpicking )
The children were nestled, all snug in their rain boots,
In hopes that Saint Nick would not be rained out of his route.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But five sun shines in the the forecast … nothing but clear!
Seriously, I thought that the weather guy had lost it for good (or, maybe my weather app. was malfunctioning). It just is not a normal or predictable thing for the weather forecast to be for sun, here in the monsoon belt, for two days in a row, let alone five.
So I have gone to work for three mornings now, able to see the freshly fallen snow on the nearby mountains. It just makes me hum, ‘it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.’ I was even able to take a walk out in the fresh, crisp air after school yesterday … without a rain jacket. I feel like I am living in the midst of a miracle. And I fear that any moment I might wake up from this beautiful dream and see my reality for what it really is … a wet, grey, dull nightmare!
For the first time in years, I have hopes for a white Christmas (okay, it is probably a fantasy, but, a girl can dream). We had snow over the Christmas holidays about five years ago (wow! five years ago, and five sun shines in the forecast … that has to be reason for hoping), and it was glorious! Things got canceled, the snowploughs were not able to keep up, and people got stranded at home … it was perfect, heck, it was the perfect storm! I do not remember a more delightful Christmas, for our family. Lots of play in the snow, lots of nothing to ‘have’ to do, lots of visual beauty to be seen.
I do admit to hoping that my dream might come true. I do hope to go to bed on Christmas Eve, with snow falling softly on the ground. I do hope to awaken on December 25th with a blanket of snow all around to add to the wonder of the day. I do admit, that, the child within me just hopes for a show of enchantment this, and every Christmas season.
“The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?” ~J.B. Priestley
I remember a Christmas ‘pageant’ where I did a ‘recitation’ when I was still a preschooler. It was at the church of my grandmother, and it was she who taught the poem to me. I remember how very many people were staring back at me (the church probably doesn’t hold more than seventy people, but as a preschooler, it seemed like hundreds). I also remember her voice whispering the lines to me (memorizing has never been a strength for me).
The poem I had recited many years ago, was the final verse of a poem written by Christina Rossetti. Later music was added and it is known as the Christmas carol ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’. The poem goes as follows:
In the bleak midwinter frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone:
Snow had fallen, snow on snow
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter,
Long ago.
Our God, heaven cannot hold him nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty
Jesus Christ.
Enough for him, whom cherubim worship night and day,
A breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay:
Enough for him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.
Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air –
But only his mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped the beloved
With a kiss.
What can I give him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb; If I were a wise man I would do my part; Yet what I can, I give him – Give my heart.
The final (bolded) lines are from my recitation of many years ago (the fact that this is called a ‘recitation’ is evidence of that fact). And, although I was not so very successful at memorizing them, they have stayed with me for all of my life. There is something beautiful, dreamy and haunting about both the poem, and the music that was added to it. I have to say my favorite version is by Sarah McLaughlin, a few years ago, on her Wintersong CD.
Although this is not just a question of Christmas, I am asking myself this season the same question that Ms. Rossetti asked of herself. What can I give him, poor as I am?
Shhhh! Do not tell anyone, but I hate decorating for Christmas.
I know, I have committed a terrible sin, by even thinking such a thing. Truly, I do not enjoy it at all. To me it is just another thing that I ‘must’ do. I used to love to do the outdoor lights, the indoor lights (all over the house), and various other decor, but that was when I worked part time, and had more time.
The one Christmas decor that I do still love to get out are my collection of nativity sets. Yes, that is right, I said sets. A number of years ago, I was frustrated by the fact that, no matter how hard I tried, my house just did not look as good at Christmas as the beautifully decorated stores. Since I knew I would never have their budget, or their expertise, I decided to stop competing with the impossible, and instead focus on what Christmas means to me.
As I was browsing through the clearance section of a store, after Christmas I saw a beautiful nativity set for sixty percent off (and for someone like me, with blood of the Scots coursing through my veins, it was something I could not resist). As I unpacked that set, the following Christmas season, I thought to myself, this is the perfect focus for my Christmas decor, because for me the focus of Christmas is the story of the birth of Jesus.
Since that time I have collected seven magnetic (my advent nativity for the fridge), hanging, lit or table top sets, plus countless smaller tree ornaments. A few of my sets have already been handed down to our kids, when it became apparent that they held special importance to them. And one of them I will share in the days to come (once I convince my man servants to haul them out of storage).
I may hate decorating, but each year it is these sets of plastic, ceramic, wood, metal, cloth and glass that take me out of the commercialism and chaos, and slow my pace as I contemplate the beautiful, world-changing puzzle that God put together when He sent His son to this Earth.
As Christmas approaches stress increases and money decreases. It is tough to feel adequate, as a parent, in finding gifts for your children that are meaningful, enjoyable and low cost. Years ago, I heard of an idea for gift giving that has become one of the favorite traditions in our household.
I do not remember where this idea came from, and I am not sure exactly when we began the tradition. All I remember is that it started when our children were very young, that we were living off of one income, and that it was an instant success.
The idea is a box of books.
I bet you are seeing dollar signs right now, because anyone who has bought a new book lately knows that they are not an inexpensive purchase. But, I did not say a box of new books! 😉
Each year, when I am in thrift stores, used book stores and at garage sales I collect books for each of our three kids. I bring them home and put them in a box that I have hidden somewhere in our house (I leave it in the same place every year, or else I would never remember where I left it … I am just that old). I have never spent much for any individual book, and sometimes they have been as cheap inexpensive as five cents.
Our kid’s interests are pretty simple. One loves period pieces, anything about princesses, historical female figures, pop culture and psychology. One loves animal stories, romantic novels, craft books, as well as hair and beauty information books. Our third does not love reading (sigh), but he loves picture books, information books, history and sports (in picture-story form). I also include lots of books on cassette (yes, they still exist … and they are cheap) and CD, of classic tales so that our non-reader-lover can still benefit from the literary geniuses of the past.
Our kids do not get the latest and greatest books from the bookstores. But, if I stick to their individual interests, they are usually a hit.
The part of the annual box of books that our family has added is when our kids get this gift.
Every year, on Christmas Eve day, once our kids are up, dressed, and have their bedrooms cleaned they get their box of books. This ritual means that they often help each other out in cleaning rooms, so as to expediate the receiving of their gifts. It has been a rare occasion that the preliminary tasks take beyond noon.
Once their jobs are done, I simply place the box on the floor, with the three sitting there like our beast awaiting a treat. Once they open the top, giggles, joyful shouts and “look at this” are heard as they seek and discover what is contained and who each book is intended for. Then, silence fills the room … for hours.
When our kids were younger it was the one thing that would calm the over-the-top excitement and anticipation that are such a common part of awaiting the arrival of Saint Nick.
Not once did they ever complain because they were not new, had the name of someone else in the front cover, or still had the original price sticker from 1979.This is one of their favorite Christmas traditions. I bet it is one that they all continue as they grow up and go off to start their own traditions one day (hopefully not too soon).
Some of my greatest memories are of watching wonder fill their faces as they explored dusty, used books that were reborn, and became new in their hands and in their minds.
With the start of the Christmas season being underway, here in North America, it is difficult to not think about all that fills the season. For the next few weeks, my blog posts will be directed towards this festive season.
My hubby has introduced me to so much Christmas sub-culture that I was unaware of before. And, since meeting him, when I think of Christmas the first thing that pops into my head is the following poem he taught me:
Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat
Please put a penny in the old man’s hat
If you haven’t got a penny, a ha’penny will do
If you haven’t got a ha’penny, then God bless you!
This little ditty is known as a poem, and a Christmas Carol, but more frequently as a nursery rhyme. The author’s name is unknown. In the late nineteenth century, the music for the song was composed by Edith Nesbit Bland. It’s simple rhyme scheme makes it easy to remember, and it’s message is one which is timeless, and so it has been easily handed down for well over one hundred years.
The language of the poem takes me to the time of Ebeneezer Scrooge, perhaps during the Industrial Revolution (late eighteenth to mid. nineteenth century), when child labor and beggars or every age were a norm. I have in my mind a picture of a weathered old man saying this rhyme with a Cockney English accent, while holding out his tattered hat to passers-by.
The words of this well quoted verse remind us of the approach of the season that is indicated, not just by the calendar, but also the girth of the geese. They are fattening up for the seasonal feasts. I wonder, though, if perhaps the unknown writer was thinking more about our girths? And how fat with wealth we are? Because the following line states, “please put a penny in the old man’s hat.”
This poem was written before social services, before old age pension, before any state run social assistance. The old who never had money to put aside when they were younger and working were either taken in by family, or lived on the streets. Today, there are still people on the streets, or one pension cheque away from it. And we should never be so gullible as to think that the helps we have today will always be here for us (or our children). In this time of economic woes in countries near and far, the future is not easy to forecast for any of us.
So, give to those who are in need! You and I have plenty! We have been given much!
And, as the next verse states, it doesn’t have to be a large amount. Give, not from your great wealth, but from your heart and with an attitude of gifting. Much like the the story of the gift of the widow at the temple. She gave her two last coins, which were really almost useless, but they were all she had. You do not have to give a large amount (of course … she only had two coins, and she gave both … she could have given one, and kept one … just sayin’).
And then the last verse ends the plea for help, with “If you haven’t got a ha’penny, then God bless you!”
Speak to untouchable, unclean, ‘unbeautiful’ people. Greet older people with a smile, hold a door for them, say ‘God Bless you’ to them. You might make their day, their holiday season one of hope.