The Revolution of Christmas

Here's one last Christmas quote this year. This one is from G.K. Chesterton's The Everlasting Man:

Christmas for us in Christendom has become one thing, and in one sense even a simple thing. But like all the truths of that tradition, it is in another sense a very complex thing. Its unique not is the simultaneous striking of many notes; of humility, or gaiety, of gratitude, of mystical fear, but also of vigilance and drama. There is something defiant in it also; something that makes the abrupt bells at midnight sound like the great guns of a battle that has just been won.All this indescribable thing that we call the Christmas atmosphere only hangs in the air as something like a lingering fragrance or fading vapour from the exultant explosion of that one hour in the Judean hills nearly two thousand years ago. But the savour is still unmistakable, and it is something too subtle or too solitary to be covered by our use of the word peace. By the very nature of the story the rejoicings in the cavern were rejoicings in a fortress or an outlaw’s den; properly understood it is not unduly flippant to say they were rejoicings in a dug-out. It is not only true that such a subterranean chamber was a hiding-place from enemies; and that the enemies were already scouring the stony plain that lay above it like a sky.

There is in this buried divinity an idea of undermining the world; of shaking the towers and palaces from below; even as Herod the great king felt that earthquake under him and swayed with his swaying palace. This is perhaps the mightiest of the mysteries of the cave. Indeed the Church from its beginnings, and perhaps especially in its beginnings, was not so much a principality as a revolution against the prince of the world. It was in truth against a huge unconscious usurpation that it raised a revolt. Olympus still occupied the sky like a motionless cloud moulded into many mighty forms; philosophy still sat in the high places and even on the thrones of the kings, when Christ was born in the cave and Christianity in the catacombs.

This is War

This is War
Dustin Kensrue

This is war like you ain't seen.
This winter's long, it's cold and mean.
With hangdog hearts we stood condemned,
But the tide turns now at Bethlehem.

This is war and born tonight,
The Word as flesh, the Lord of Light,
The Son of God, the low-born king;
Who demons fear, of whom angels sing.

This is war on sin and death;
The dark will take it's final breath.
It shakes the earth, confounds all plans;
The mystery of God as man.

(Dustin is the lead singer of Thrice. You can listen to the song below.)

Victor Hugo

Nathan Stam
Children/Communications Pastor

From a devotion I shared at the AHS Christmas Musical last week:

This time of year frequently combines two things that I really love: Christmas + music = Christmas musicals. The two are a wonderful combination!

I recently came across a quote from Victor Hugo concerning music. Read what he had to say:

"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent."

It's the truth. Music seems like it comes from somewhere deep within us and really connects on an emotional level. I've met people who like lots of different styles of music, but I've never met someone who didn't care for it at all! Music is a universal language.

You're probably familiar with this, but Victor Hugo is also the author of Les Miserables. Les Mis is the story of a man named Jean Valjean and was written in 1862. It's a powerful novel and quite complex, but I wanted to share one particular scene with you:

Jean Valjean has been in prison for nineteen years for a terrible crime—he stole a loaf of bread. After he has been finally released as a parolee, he comes to a Bishop’s house who takes him in for the night. Valjean repays the Bishop’s generosity by promptly stealing the Bishop’s silverware and silver plates and taking off in the darkness.

He’s caught almost immediately by the police and brought back to the Bishop’s home. But when he arrives something strange happens:

The Bishop shocks the reader when, instead of prosecuting Valjean, he insists to the police that he himself gave Valjean the silver. And then the Bishop freely offers Valjean his silver candlesticks too. It's an extraordinary moment of grace. "Valjean is made an honest man through another man’s sacrifice." Valjean doesn't deserve it in any shape or form, but the Bishop's action towards this hardened criminal embodies both mercy and grace. (And Valjean's life is changed because of it.)

Mercy came when Valjean was not given the punishment he deserved for theft, and grace came when he was given something he didn’t deserve: the candlesticks and the rest of the silver that he stole.

Christmas tells us another story, THE STORY of mercy and grace. It tells us of how God himself came to the world—a world full of death and darkness that had rebelled against him—God came and was born as a baby so that he could rescue our world from death.

Christmas is a story of mercy because Jesus, the God-man, did not come to condemn the world because of our rebellion, but to save the world through his death on the cross and his resurrection three days later. He is God’s great rescue plan.

Christmas is a story of grace because we’re given something we don’t deserve: new life and a new beginning. Freedom. Hope. Peace with God. And it’s all made possible through a baby that was born on Christmas day that would one day grow up and die on a cross to take our place—to those who believe in the name of Jesus.

Recognition

Recognition
Luci Shaw

Who on earth saw him first, knowing
truly who he was? Belly to belly, when
John, prophet in utero, distinguished
in the natal soup the fetal bones, the body
curled like a comma, eyes tight, skull
packed with universal wisdom,
this unborn cousin began to dance.

And when she, birth-giver—
her ordinary vision arrowing down between
her legs through pain and straw to her son's dark,
slime-streaked hair, to his very skin, red with
the struggle of being born—she lifted him
to her breast, kissed the face of God,
and felt her own heart leap.

God With Us

I ran across this video and loved it. What a great Christmas song from Folk Angel (by the way, I highly recommend their newest Christmas album)! You can check out the lyrics in full right here.

First Coming

First Coming
by Madeleine L’Engle

He did not wait till the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.

He did not wait for the perfect time.
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine. He did not wait

till hearts were pure. In joy he came
to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.

He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.

We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!

A True Christmas Photos

A few photos from this past weekend. For more, check out our Google+ page:

Mary's Song

Mary's Song
by Luci Shaw

Blue homespun and the bend of my breast
keep warm this small hot naked star
fallen to my arms. (Rest …
you who have had so far to come.)
Now nearness satisfies
the body of God sweetly. Quiet he lies
whose vigor hurled a universe. He sleeps
whose eyelids have not closed before.
His breath (so slight it seems
no breath at all) once ruffled the dark deeps
to sprout a world. Charmed by doves' voices,
the whisper of straw, he dreams,
hearing no music from his other spheres.
Breath, mouth, ears, eyes
he is curtailed who overflowed all skies,
all years. Older than eternity, now he
is new. Now native to earth as I am, nailed
to my poor planet, caught
that I might be free, blind in my womb
to know my darkness ended,
brought to this birth for me to be new-born,
and for him to see me mended
I must see him torn.

The Glory

The Glory
by Madeleine L’Engle

Without any rhyme
without any reason
my heart lifts to light
in this bleak season

Believer and wanderer
caught by salvation
stumbler and blunderer
into Creation

In this cold blight
where marrow is frozen
it is God’s time
my heart has chosen

In paradox and story
parable and laughter
find I the glory
here in hereafter

A True Christmas

Dottie Stam
Worship Leader

This weekend, our Adult Worship Choir will be presenting "A True Christmas." It's a wonderful story that shares the true meaning of Christmas: our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

We'll offer five shows, all of them absolutely FREE. There will be an evening show beginning at 7:30 on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. We also will be presenting two matinees on Saturday and Sunday, both at 3:00. Doors open an hour before the performances.

We hope that you can make it, and that more importantly you'll bring a neighbor or friend who doesn't know what Jesus did for them on the cross!

Below is a short synopsis of the musical. Enjoy!

The story takes place in a small North Carolina town in the year 1872. Twelve year old Nan and her best friend Johnny are headed up to Herbert Morgan’s new barn. A fire has destroyed his old barn, so the men of the town are building Herbert a new dairy barn. A time of celebration at the barn raising is followed by the local school teacher, Rose, using the barn as a class room. When Christmas eve arrives, the local preacher, Sam Moore, also decides the barn would be a good place to hold the evening service. As the service ends, word comes that the Womack River, running through the center of town, has overflowed its banks and all the homes are soon to be flooded. The new barn proves to be a Godsend for the town as they are all forced to take refuge there, the only structure built on high ground. Meanwhile, Sam finds out Rose’s secret.


Later as the town is gathered inside, a stranger arrives proving to be the estranged brother of Nan’s father, Thomas. This brother, Sterling, had chosen to fight for the north while the youngest brother, Henry, had fought for the south and had been killed in battle. The brothers' initial meeting does not go well and there seems to be no hope for reconciliation.


As everyone anxiously waits for word on the flood, Johnny decides to go climb an old tree to be able to see the entire town. The tree is wet and Nan follows, warning Johnny about the tree. Sterling sees the children leave for the tree and follows. When the local Representative, Jubal, warns everyone that the tree is about to fall, other towns folk leave to save the children. The tree does fall and while Nan is saved by her Uncle Sterling, Johnny is brought in with a head injury. In the panic that follows, Bess and Herbert Morgan are faced with the dilemma of where to find a Doctor. Rose had once studied medicine but has mysteriously returned home to teach school. Bess persuades Rose to help Johnny and she reluctantly reveals the she is a certified Doctor and performs the needed surgery on Johnny. The surgery is successful and Thomas and Sterling reconcile. The town rejoices and prepares to celebrate Christmas by reading the Christmas story.


Another stranger arrives and reveals that he represents a church from a neighboring county that has offered to help the town. Everyone celebrates over this offer of help. Finally Nan and Johnny figure out what is really a True Christmas.

Approaching the Manger

Another Christmas thought from Bonhoeffer:

For the great and powerful of this world, there are only two places in which their courage fails them, of which they are afraid deep down in their souls, from which they shy away. These are the manger and the cross of Jesus Christ. No powerful person dares to approach the manger, and this even includes King Herod. For this is where thrones shake, the mighty fall, the prominent perish, because God is with the lowly. Here the rich come to nothing, because God is with the poor and hungry, but the rich and satisfied he sends away empty. Before Mary, the maid, before the manger of Christ, before God in lowliness, the powerful come to naught; they have no right, no hope; they are judged.

Thou Who Wast Rich Beyond All Splendour

Nathan Stam
Children/Communications Pastor

Happy Christmas Day everyone! I hope it's a special one with your family! Check out the words to this Christmas hymn by Frank Houghton:

Thou who wast rich beyond all splendour,
All for love's sake becamest poor;
Thrones for a manger didst surrender,
Sapphire-paved courts for stable floor.
Thou who wast rich beyond all splendour,
All for love's sake becomes poor.

Thou who art God beyond all praising,
All for love's sake becamest man;
Stooping so low, but sinners raising
Heavenwards by Thine eternal plan.

Thou who art love beyond all telling,
Saviour and King, we worship Thee.
Emmanuel, within us dwelling,
Make us what Thou wouldst have us be.
Thou who art love beyond all telling,
Saviour and King, we worship Thee.

The Twelve Words of Christmas

Merry Christmas Eve everyone! This is a short little video that talks about the first broadcast ever on AM radio. Pretty cool!

Future of Forestry - O Holy Night

This is my favorite version of the Christmas classic. Check it out!

I Heard The Bells

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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 the 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 doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men."

An Un-Christmas-Like Idea

An excerpt from Dietrich Bonhoeffer:

When the old Christendom spoke of the coming again of the Lord Jesus, it always thought first of all of a great day of judgment. And as un-Christmas-like as this idea may appear to us, it comes from early Christianity and must be taken with utter seriousness...The coming of God is truly not only a joyous message, but is, first, frightful news for anyone who has a conscience. And only when we have felt the frightfulness of the matter can we know the incomparable favor. God comes in the midst of evil, in the midst of death, and judges the evil in us and in the world. And in judging it, he loves us, he purifies us, he sanctifies us, he comes to us with his grace and love. He makes us happy as only children can be happy.

Snow

Nathan Stam
Children/Communications Pastor

Here's a video of a song called "Snow" by Sleeping at Last. It's a great Christmas song, particularly if you love the movie, "It's A Wonderful Life." It has a lot of allusions and nods to the movie including the line, "Like the petals in our pockets may we remember who we are." (Speaking of Snow, will we have a white Christmas? I do not remember one from NC in my entire life. We've had rain and we've had 70 degree days, but no snow. Could this be the year?) Enjoy:

The Death of Life

Nathan Stam
Children/Communications Pastor

This is one of my all time favorite quotes on Advent. It comes from Augustine and I think it captures the mystery of the Incarnation perfectly:

 Man's maker was made man that He, ruler of the stars, might nurse at His mother's breast; that the Bread might hunger, the Fountain thirst, the Light sleep, the Way be tired on its journey; that Truth might be accused of false witness, the Teacher be beaten with whips, the Foundation be suspended on wood; that Strength might grow weak; that the Healer might be wounded; that Life might die.

That Holy Thing

That Holy Thing
by George MacDonald

They all were looking for a king
To slay their foes and lift them high;
Thou cam'st, a little baby thing
That made a woman cry.

O Son of Man, to right my lot
Naught but Thy presence can avail;
Yet on the road Thy wheels are not,
Nor on the sea Thy sail!

My how or when Thou wilt not heed,
But come down Thine own secret stair,
That Thou may'st answer all my need-
Yea, every bygone prayer.

Prophets

Prophets
by Ann Porter

Once in the Advent season
When I was walking down
A narrow street

I met a flock of children
Who all came running up to me
Saying that they were prophets
And for a penny they
Would prophesy

I gave them each a penny

They started out
By rummaging in trash-cans
Until they found
A ragged piece of silk

It's blue, they said
Blue is a holy color
Blue is the color that
The mountains are
When they are far away

They laid the rag
On a small fire
Of newspaper and shavings
And burned it in the street

They scraped up all the ashes
And with them decorated
Each other's faces

Then they ran back to me
And stood
In a circle 'round me

We stood that way
In a solemn silence
Until
One of the children spoke

It was the prophecy!

He said that long before
The pear tree blossoms
Or sparrows in the hedges
Begin to sing

A Child will be our King.