Of a Christmas Tree and Everything Good

 

We are now into the third week of our Christmas tree, braving the low humidity of indoors in the wintry season.  It is still drinking, though about half as much as in the first days, when a gallon or so of water had to be added between morning and late evening. 

We could celebrate Christmas without a tree, but our tree is a focus of Christmas and its meaning.  Our evergreen has ever been a symbol of Jesus Christ.  The tree itself, with its conical greenery pointing upward, emphasizes life when most of the trees around are leafless. 

Those other trees are not dead, but rather filled with life.  Scripture speaks of life in deciduous trees metaphorically.  Loved ones and friends who have passed on from this life may appear to be gone.  A tree may be bare for the season.  Yet, it springs to life at a time whose chief holiday is Easter, the reminder of the resurrection of Christ, extending resurrection and newness of life to each of us when our own season of spring comes.

Upon our Christmas tree we place ornaments of many kinds.  While in great variety, the ornaments to us are all unified.  They display the reality taught in scripture:

. . . in Christ there should come every good thing . . . and all things which are good cometh of Christ” (Moroni 10:22, 24).

If you have a Christmas tree, perhaps upon yours as upon ours there will be found memories of family.  Families are divine gifts, and Christ gave us the way that our families may be united forever.

We have ornaments of fruit, whose beauty, goodness, and plethora are gifts from the Creator.  That is also true of ornaments reminiscent of wondrous places that we have been and seen.

There are charming images in other ornaments retelling stories and tales from inspired authors, among recreations in beauty of form and color.  Mixed in are images of snowflakes, of stars, of beaches, of flowers.  Jumbled about the tree are decorations testifying of birds and animals and other displays of nature well beyond human design.

Were you to gaze upon our tree, and perhaps on yours as well, you might ask, “Then what is the purpose of the ornaments of the Congress and the Senate and the White House?”  Based upon some personal experience, I would reply, they remind us of the Constitution that God inspired the Founders to give us.  From that gift we have enjoyed the blessings of liberty in a nation under God for many generations, with hopes for more generations to come.

Looking to the top of the tree, as with nearly all Christmas trees, there is a special ornament given prime position.  I helped make ours from things that someone else made, depicting an angel flying above the world with a book of scripture on one arm and with the other holding a trumpet to his lips.  It is an effort to resound Christ’s prophecy through the Apostle John to us in these latter days:

And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people, Saying with a loud voice, Fear God, and give glory to him; for the hour of his judgment is come: and worship him that made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and the fountains of waters.

(Revelation 14:6,7)

With that glory represented on our Christmas tree, it is easy to look about us and see uncountable examples of good things that Jesus Christ, the Creator, has given and still gives to us.  It is His wish that we “may lay hold upon every good thing” (Moroni 7:25), and that forever.

Of Words and Challenges

 

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    Based on an actual conversation at breakfast, between two people, whom I will call Sally and Jim:

Sally:  I got the word today on just 3 tries.

Jim:  That’s great.  What was the word?

Sally:  Shout.

Jim:  But that had none of your usual start letters.

Sally:  And that was helpful.  You learn a lot about the structure of words through this exercise, interesting things, especially about five-letter words.

Jim:  That could make for a good educational tool, beginning with middle-school kids.

Sally:  If you could get the kids actually to do it.  They might find it too challenging these days.

Jim:  Good point.  Too many are quick to avoid challenge, and too many others quick to accommodate the evasion of challenge.

Sally:  And unhurried to reward those who are willing to take on a challenge.

Jim:  Education is supposed to be about challenge.  Engaging challenge is a great way to learn.  If you don’t, the more you evade challenge, the more challenges you will have.

Sally:  There are challenges we can avoid, and should avoid.  But life is challenging.  It’s supposed to be.  Challenges will come, looked for or not.

Jim:  Yep.  You can avoid some, but not all.  The learning is in how to manage challenge, how to face it, and how to overcome it, if you can, and how to cope if you can’t.

Sally:  Some of the biggest challenges come from those who are selling to people, especially young people, that they can avoid all challenge.

Jim:  Who promise ‘challenge-free’ paths of life.  They offer making this ‘The land of the safe, and the home of the careful.’

Sally:  Where is the joy in that?  The better path, the path of fulfillment, is in ‘The land of the free, and the home of the brave.’  Not only do we overcome challenges. . .

Jim:  . . . and help each other face them . . .

Sally:  We grow, and many things that once seemed challenges no longer are.  Then we can take on bigger and better things, becoming stronger, more able, more fulfilled by accomplishment.  All the while, more compassionate, kinder, more charitable.  That is why God sent us here.

Jim:  It’s in the scriptures, “there is an opposition in all things.”  We discover the joy in life, find and live a joyful life.  Not an easy life.

Sally:  “Having no life,” without the challenge of opposition, as the scriptures teach.  But very loud, persistent voices promise challenge-free, problem-free, easy lifestyles.

Jim:  They promise.  The challenges come as the promises are not kept, not delivered as advertised.

Sally:  And then the challenges multiply—and accumulate, and hang around.

Jim:  To be faced by a weakened people, in ‘The land of the safe, and the home of the careful.’

Sally:  A life of constant challenge but few achievements.  And plenty of frustration.”

Jim:  Again, where is the joy in that life?  A life missed.

Sally:  Where has that ever worked?  Nowhere.

Jim:  In the end, not even for those who promised it.  Life gone amiss.

Sally:  That might be tomorrow’s word.

Of Being Lucky and Blessed

 

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“Insanely lucky.”  What does that conjure up for you?  I encountered it this morning at a repair shop where I presented my electronic hand-held device.  I began the conversation by saying, “I bring you the cleanest cellphone you are going to see.  It comes out of the washing machine.”

The technician’s response was, “Buy a new one.”

The look on my face led him to add, “There is no way to fix it.”  He had merely seen it in my hand, nice and clean and shiny.

I explained to him that I had dried it off, that it was on and working when retrieved, and that I immediately had turned it off.  With a slight shake of his head he reaffirmed his unexamined diagnosis.  Seeing that I was not yet convinced, he continued, “Unless you are insanely lucky, it cannot be fixed.”

Not ready to surrender hope, I handed it to him.  I even showed him the leather-bound case with an interior plastic sleeve that had enclosed the device (without explicitly mentioning the wash, rinse, wash and rinse again, and multiple spin cycles it had been through).  Friendly and nonplussed by my explanation, he repeated, “You would have to be insanely lucky for it to be fixed.”

Yet, obliging a would-be customer who remained cordial through the exchange, the technician removed from the device what I think was a sim card (for all I know).  Looking carefully, turning it on, examining the sides, running his finger across the glass, he handed it back. 

Worried that this was the end of the transaction, I asked the technician what I should do.  He said, “Take it with you and use it.  You are insanely lucky.”

Sure that it needed to be opened up, I asked, “Aren’t you going to take off the cover and see if there is any water inside that needs to be dried?”  He responded, “No need to.  It is completely dry.  No water got in.”  With a smile the technician reaffirmed, “You are insanely lucky.”

Leaving my thanks, I was too surprised to say more.  After a few yards toward my car, I knew I should have told the technician that I was not lucky, I was blessed, as I later recounted to my wife.  She replied, “You should have explained to him that we are all blessed.”  And so we are. 

We have a saying at the Washington Temple, where I volunteer several days each week, that there are no coincidences in the Temple.  Statistically unlikely incidents of joy and happiness occur so often there that we are sure that we see the hand of God in our labors.

I see the Lord’s  hand outside the Temple as well, in ways large and small.  For an all-knowing, all-powerful, perfectly-loving God, how can there be anything that happens by chance?  In things as small as my machine-washed but undamaged cellphone to great matters of mortal life I have perceived my Heavenly Father blessing me every day.  Actually, that is what Easter is all about, and what Jesus Christ came to make possible for us all.

Of Pride and Overpowering Love

 

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God the Father never says that He is proud of His Son, Jesus Christ.  At least we have no record in any scripture of the Father saying so.  At the baptism, the voice of the Father proclaimed Jesus with the words, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” (Matthew 3:17)  Similar words are recorded by Mark (1:11) and also by Luke (3:22).  Some time later, at the Mount of Transfiguration, the Father introduced His Son, once more with the same words. 

Following the crucifixion and resurrection, the Father heralded His Son again, as Jesus Christ descended to teach an assemblage of believers in ancient America.  He used these words:

Behold my Beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased, in whom I have glorified my name—hear ye him. (3 Nephi 11:7)

There is a pattern here in what is not said and what is said.  Instead of an expression of pride, the Father expresses His love for His Son and His joy in what Jesus has accomplished, including bringing glory to the Father through His mortal ministry.  No one ever honored his father more than Jesus honors the Father, and no one ever loved a son more than the Father loves His beloved Son.

It is not that the Father’s love exceeds and envelopes pride.  Pride has no part in the Father’s love, for His son or for us.  There is no scriptural account, ancient or modern, of either Jesus or the Father expressing pride in anyone, not in Abraham, not in Moses, not in David, not in Peter or any of the Apostles, or in any prophet, ancient or modern.

The perfect love of our Heavenly Father and of His Son, Jesus Christ, does not exceed pride; it overpowers it.  On the night before His crucifixion, Jesus prayed to the Father, one of the holiest prayers of which we know.  The prayer was witnessed by His Apostles and reported by John.  The Son concluded His profound prayer to the Father with this request, “that the love wherewith thou hast loved me may be in them” (John 17:26).  Could anyone hope for anything greater?  The Father hears His Son and grants His requests, including the Son’s plea that the Father extend to us the same perfect love.

In comparison, the Lord has nothing good to say about pride, not a positive word in the thousands of pages of His scriptures.  He does say much to warn us about pride, because it is the opposite of love.  A modern day prophet, Ezra Taft Benson, described pride this way:

The central feature of pride is enmity—enmity toward God and enmity toward our fellowmen. . . .  We are tempted daily to elevate ourselves above others and diminish them.  The proud make every man their adversary . . .

Much evil flows out from pride.  Only good extends from the love of God. 

I neither claim nor express any pride in my sons and daughters.  I am, however, well pleased by all of them, personally.  Each is beloved by me and by their mother.  They often observe the Savior’s admonition, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” (Matthew 5:16)  No pride is there, but much goodness as they take the gifts they have received from the Father and bless others with them.

I hope for the day when each of us may hear the Lord say personally, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”

Of Christmas and Easter

 

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Christmas, in all its depth, is marvelous.  It gathers together a world, nay, a universe of goodness.  It also attracts that which may not be so good, but in this world that can be said of nearly all good things.  Love, which is the greatest virtue of all, attracts a plethora of counterfeits, some of which are cheapened varieties of love, too many of which undermine love.  Many broken marriages so teach us.

I love Christmas, because I love Easter.  It is from Easter that Christmas derives its profound meaning and joy.  The depth of meaning and joy involved in Easter is unfathomable, yet there is joy in seeking to fathom it.

All goodness and happiness in life and this world are founded upon what Jesus Christ suffered and accomplished in those last few days of His mortal life, His brief experience in the world of the dead, and His resurrecting entrance into eternal life.  The ancient prophet Lehi taught that everything has its opposite.  To his son, Jacob, he said, “there is an opposition in all things,” nothing excepted, “neither holiness nor misery, neither good nor bad.” (2 Nephi 2:11)  Christ plumbed the absolute depths of evil, suffering all of the pain, sorrow, and the effects of evil for all, and then overcame it all.

Consider what it means when Jesus Christ’s perfect love for all the Father’s children meets with His omniscience, His knowledge of everything, before, then, and since.  Consider all your sorrows, and comprehensively combine them with the sorrows of all who ever lived and all who will ever live.  To Christ that whole weight was fully and completely revealed.  Christ considered and knew and experienced.  In so doing, He earned in the balance of justice an infinite supply of mercy that he offers to you  and me.

Thereby consider the opposite to the sorrow, a fullness of joy that overwhelms that weight.  No wonder when, shortly after His resurrection that guaranteed the resurrection of all, Christ met with a multitude of disciples who loved Him as much as those who wanted Him crucified hated Him.  Beholding these disciples, Jesus blessed their sick, one by one.  Surround by their children, He said, “And now behold, my joy is full.”  How much would it mean for the Creator of the world, to experience fullness of joy? 

Filled with that joy, Christ “wept, and the multitude bare record of it”.  Then Jesus “took their little children, one by one, and blessed them . . . And when he had done this he wept again . . . and said unto them:  Behold your little ones.” (3 Nephi 17)

Christmas is a delight, because Easter is a joy, and Christmas points us to it.

I have heard that before the days of Lenin, it was customary for Russians to greet each other on Easter with the words, “Khristos voskres!” To which the reply would be “Voistinu voskres!”  Christ is risen!  Indeed, He is risen!  I understand that many in Russia have resumed that Easter greeting.  There is rejoicing that can lead to a fullness of joy for each of us, everywhere.

Of Christmas and More than an Infant

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This Christmas many people will sing and speak praises of a baby born in Bethlehem 2021 years ago.  Unfortunately, too many people never get past that story of the “Babe of Bethlehem.”  It is sweet, it is joyful, but it is not enough. 

The birth of Jesus, the Son of God, was miraculous.  Unlike the birth of anyone else, his birth was prophesied over thousands of years, with prophecies fulfilled in every particular, and prophecies that are continuing and accelerating in their fulfillment today.  What does that mean for us?  It means that this is all part of a very big deal.  It is what the prophet Alma said “is of more importance than” all (Alma 7:7).

We love to sing Christmas carols.  The words of carols, however, can at times challenge the vocabulary of little children.  In my younger years of singing “The First Noel” I was certain that the word “certain” in the second line was a verb, not an adjective.  “The first Noel the angel did say/ Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay. . . ”  In my young mind “certain” described what and why the angel was speaking to the shepherds.  The angel appeared in order to certain the shepherds.

Today I am not so sure that I was wrong in hearing a verb.  The angel wanted those shepherds to know, to understand, to be certain of what they saw, and thereby to become witnesses of something extremely important.  The angel explained what was happening, what it meant, where it was happening, how to recognize the marvel, and then the shepherds quickly went to see for themselves, personally.  Immediately afterward they shared with others what they knew. 

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy . . . . For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.  And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. . . . And they came with haste, and found . . . the babe lying in a manger.  And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child. (Luke 2:8-17, emphasis added)

Following His resurrection, Jesus was careful to make His disciples certain of His resurrection so that they might witness to others of what they knew, enabling others at first to believe and then come to know for themselves by the testimony of the Holy Ghost.

The Father and the Son want us to know so that we might understand—actually, so that we might not misunderstand.  They appeared to Joseph Smith, such that Joseph’s knowledge was, from the first, certain.  He then could testify, “I had actually seen a light, and in the midst of that light I saw two Personages, and they did in reality speak to me . . .” (Joseph Smith History 1:25)

I have gained my own witness that Joseph’s certainty was true.  I, too, have been certained by the power of the Holy Ghost.  I know for sure that God is real and that Jesus Christ is the resurrected Savior of the world.  God has given certain witness to Joseph Smith and the prophets since then, including the prophet today, Russell M. Nelson.  Many have believed and had belief confirmed into certainty by the assurance of the Holy Ghost.

The words to the carol, “What Child Is This?” are a soul-deep meditation on why the birth of this Baby is so important.  The musings lead to an answer found in what this Child would later do. 

I fear that many modern renditions of the carol miss—or perhaps even avoid—the point. Among the dozen or so recordings of that carol in my possession, I discovered to my surprise that all but maybe four leave out the second of three verses written by William C. Dix, the one that holds a central place explaining why this birth was important.  Some repeat, again and again, the true declaration that this Child is “Christ the King.” Recognition of that reality is essential, but how far does it get you?  Even Herod believed and feared that prophecy, a belief that goaded him to destroy all the babes of Bethlehem that his soldiers could find.

Why did Christ the King find it necessary to lower Himself to be born among men?  That is the central question, the answer to which converts our attitude toward Christ from reverence for a Divine Monarch into deeply felt love born of joy and boundless gratitude.  The second verse, too often skipped, explains what is at the heart of Christmas.  Here are the words.

Why lies He in such mean estate,

Where ox and ass are feeding?

Good Christians, fear, for sinners here

The silent Word is pleading.

Nails, spear shall pierce Him through,

The cross be borne for me, for you.

Hail, hail the Word made flesh,

The babe, the Son of Mary.

This little Child would be pierced by nails and spear when He was older but no less innocent.  Why would He submit to that?  Why would the King submit to that?

Among the beautiful carols of Christmas there is one that surely seems odd and out of place. The haunting melody is in significant measure responsible for its lasting popularity, but the words are anything but joyful for a joyful celebration. Rather than recount the birth of the Savior, Jesus Christ, the song expresses the inconsolable sorrow of a mother of Bethlehem mourning the cruel murder of her little child. Popularly known as “The Coventry Carol,” it includes these words:

O sisters, too, how may we do,

For to preserve this day;

This poor Youngling for whom we sing,

By, by, lully, lullay.

 

Herod the King, in his raging,

Charged he hath this day;

His men of might, in his own sight,

All children young, to slay.

The song helps retell when jealous King Herod, fearful of even rumors of potential rivals for his throne, ordered the slaughter of all the children in Bethlehem of two years old and younger. Herod had been advised by the wise men of the birth of the future King of the Jews, in fulfillment of prophecy.  Herod missed his mark, for Jesus was no longer there. Joseph, warned by an angel, had taken his little family away to Egypt.

Among those who take it upon themselves to second guess God there are those who would question why God would save His Son, while allowing all those other children in Bethlehem to be slain. Again, these critics miss the mark. They get it wrong by failing to consider the whole picture.

God the Father did not spare His Son from the slaying of the children at Bethlehem. The unfair and cruel carnage begun in David’s city was finished on Calvary. Jesus’ life was spared only momentarily so that it could be offered as the last sacrifice for all. That seemingly doleful song points us to the full meaning of Christmas as part of a story that winds through Bethlehem and leads through sorrow in Gethsemane to death on Calvary.

Importantly, the story continues on from there to a glorious resurrection morning on the third day. Christ was born to save us, in spite of the evils of the world that He most of all could not escape, a salvation that extends especially to the children of Bethlehem and to all the little children of the world.

I conceive of a day, a moment, when those very men who pounded the nails into the Savior’s hands and feet come personally to realize, come face-to-face with what they have done.  What depth of grief that this knowledge will cause to the hearts of those men—when they become certain of the meaning of those moments in that day—I can imagine in only the smallest degree.  They will be the only men, among the billions who have trod the earth, who with hammers in their fists drove nails into the hands and feet of the Creator and their Savior.  What will that certainty mean to them?

Perhaps the Savior’s plea from the cross, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do,” (Luke 23:34) will be the beginning of some healing solace when they do know what they personally did.  I suspect that this is not the limit of the mercy that the Savior will extend to these, His brothers, who were so close to the Son of God in this horrible way.

Then I am drawn to consider, how will we feel when our day comes, and it surely will, when we stand face-to-face and see those wounds in His hands and feet?  How will we feel when we come to understand perfectly, as we will, that our own, personal sins made those wounds necessary, that because of what we knowingly have done there was no other way, that we helped to make those nails unavoidable?  More, how will we feel, looking in the Savior’s eyes, when we fully understand that depending on our repentance the suffering that we personally caused was entirely and eternally worth it, or in absence of our repentance for us for naught?  At that moment our joy and our love or our grief and pain will be without measure.

Let us decide now, for we may, to let our loving hearts enthrone Him.  May we decide now, today, that we, when brought into the personal presence of the Savior, will be like Christ's ancient disciples, who did “bow down at his feet . . . and worship him; and . . . kiss his feet, insomuch that they did bathe his feet with their tears.” (3 Nephi 17:10)

Of Life and Creativity

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Our Heavenly Father gave us life, and He intends for us to be creative with it.  In so doing we find joy.  God wants us to have joy.  Facilitating our joy is what He does with His life.  It is His creativity.  In the process He gains a fulness of joy.

Let me illustrate from ancient scripture.  When Jesus Christ, shortly after His resurrection, visited His disciples in the ancient Americas, He bid the multitude to kneel.  Then Jesus knelt, and He prayed to God the Father for them.  This is from their record of that prayer:  “no one can conceive of the joy which filled our souls at the time we heard him pray for us unto the Father.”  (3 Nephi 17:17)  How would you feel if you heard Jesus Christ pray to Heavenly Father for you?  Could you find words to express your joy?  Neither could these disciples.

How did Jesus feel?  The account relates, Jesus said, “And now behold, my joy is full.”  What does it take to fill the capacity for joy of the Creator and Savior of the world?

Some days later, meeting with those whom Jesus had chosen to lead the ancient church in the Americas, the Savior promised them that because of their faithful service their “joy shall be full, even as the Father hath given me fulness of joy; and ye shall be even as I am, and I am even as the Father” (3 Nephi 28:10).

This was in keeping with what the Lord revealed through the prophet Lehi, some 600 years before, “men are that they might have joy.” (2 Nephi 2:25).

How does it happen?  Consider the difference between life and non-life, the difference between animate creatures and inanimate objects.  The distinctions are many, but for this discussion I would focus on the fact that those that have life are movers, actors.  They act upon the inanimate things around them.  I recall once complaining in frustration about my computer, when I was reminded that computers are stupid; they can only do what they are told to do.  Even the much vaunted “artificial intelligence” of computer programs is for all its sophistication still artificial; there is an artist behind it.

Every thing in the universe moves only as it is forced to.  The children of God are different.  In giving us life God gave to each of us the power to move, to initiate action, to create.  We can give (an endless power if used properly, whereas taking is always limited and has an end).

God created the earth (among an infinity of other works).  He organized the chaotic elements around Him and made something marvelously beautiful.  God “saw every thing that he had made” and He saw that “it was very good” (Genesis 1:31).  And then He gave it to us.  He did so that we might have something to work with as we learned to create.  God did not build the farms and the cities.  He left those for us, allowing us to participate in creation, and experience the joy of creation.

His creation is our example.  It is creation with a purpose, it is organizing the resources around us for greater joy.  The most meaningful form of creation is creation-giving, creating what we then pass on to others.  If you consider the commandments of God, they all have as their purpose to enhance our ability to create and then bless others with our creations, to receive more from God and each other that we might create more and share more, and in the process that we might learn so that we might go on creating forever.  Sin is what limits our creativity.

What we create and keep to ourselves has a way of becoming unsatisfying.  It has an end in us, and in that end the joy is lost; it might just as well have not been created at all.  When we give, when we create-give—and in return receive and give—this creation moves forward.  When the creation and the joy are passed on, as they are passed on, they have no end.  The creative work lasts forever and becomes more.  Man, by engaging in such creation experiences joy and creates joy.  That is what our Father sent us here to learn to do.  By so doing, we learn to become like Him, creatively joyful in turn.  We gain more life, we become more lively, until the Lord gives us all that He has, eternal life.

Of Material and Spiritual

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Selfishness or selflessness?  Hard to find many defending selfishness or saying a word against selflessness.  Yet these two concepts are intertwined in thousands of years of philosophical debate over materialism and immaterialism. While these two philosophical ideal appear as opposites, they each are, at most, half of reality.  Indulged in, each can lean toward a self-centered view of the world, the materialist surrounding himself with all that he can grasp, the immaterialist indulging in a cocoon of isolation from which he never emerges.

As most of us go about our daily lives, it may seem hard to conceive of the libraries of books filled with one side arguing that all that our senses constantly perceive is all that there is, while another school of thought just as vehemently asserts that it is all illusion, that the material is a false cloak covering spiritual reality.  Which is right, and which is wrong, and does it matter?  Can we bring the ideas together?

To shorten a very lengthy debate, materialists contend that the history of the progress of mankind is the story of overcoming physical obstacles and learning how to make the elements yield to our control, resulting in longer, healthier, more productive lives.  In similarly abbreviated fashion, the contention of immaterialists—sometimes referred to as spiritualists—is that at the end of the day all that physical “progress” means nothing, that its focus makes no one happy, that it chains people to an aggressive pursuit and struggle against one another that fails to bring lasting joy, instead feeding greed, covetousness, and hostility.  There is much more to the arguments, but that is their flavor.

To engage the debate on more practical terms, the materialist might argue that the spiritualist, by rejecting a very material world, is starving while living in a garden, dwelling in poverty amidst plenty.  The spiritualist might reply that the materialist may satisfy his appetites by feasting, but in the end he will still die, and by failing to transcend his surroundings he will die unhappy, having accomplished nothing lasting.

You may consider yourself partial to neither approach.  That would be understandable and proper, for man is by nature physical and spiritual.  The scholarly division is contrived, unnatural, isolating indivisible halves of existence.  The gospel of Jesus Christ, however, embraces the complete man.  When Jesus, as Creator, “saw every thing that he had made” of a very physical earth that included man and woman, He pronounced it all “very good” (Genesis 1:31).  Later, in our times, Jesus declared, “And it pleaseth God that he hath given all these things unto man; for unto this end were they made to be used . . .” (Doctrine and Covenants 59:20)  Furthermore, the scriptures teach, “there is a spirit in man” (Job 32:8).

The material is real; we are immersed in it.  As spirit children of a Heavenly Father, our challenge is to put our spirits in charge of the physical things, to control our environment as the Father does.  The physical is not here to slow us down or to bind our spirits.  Neither is it an instrument of penance for us to overcome and then be done with.  The material exists to facilitate our development and enhance our being.  We became more when our spirits united with our bodies.  The material is here to be used, first for learning and then for doing.  Joy comes in discovering how to use the physical well.  We are to subdue the earth, to become masters over the physical, not masters from the physical or to escape from the material.

The evil is when we shorten our vision, no longer employing the material for our growth and progression but becoming slaves to wanton appetites, food and drink devolving into our gods of gluttony and drunkenness, material things becoming objects of avarice instead of instruments of service.  We come to worship our tools, betraying our divine heritage as makers and wielders of tools.

The truth of the whole matter is found in the union of the spiritual with the material.  As children of God, it is our heritage to become like our Father.  Growing in the love of God, we govern our appetites and enlist our tools in the cause of ennobling one another.

The Master, Jesus Christ, explained it this way:

For man is spirit.  The elements are eternal, and spirit and element, inseparably connected receive a fulness of joy.  And when separated, man cannot receive a fulness of joy.  (Doctrine and Covenants 93:33, 34)

God created this very material world out of available elements, placed our spirits into physical bodies to learn how to control material things.  Christ was Himself born into a physical body that He also might enjoy the union of spirit and element.  Then He  willingly surrendered that union in death so that He might be resurrected from the dead, inseparably united as spirit and body, ensuring that for all of us the separation of spirit from body would be merely temporary while the unity of spirit with body, and the joy of that union, could last forever.

In so doing, Christ, and each of us, may receive the fulness of eternal joy that only our combined nature can achieve.

Of Discovered Music and Enthroning the Savior

Many people are introduced to the melody, “Greensleeves,” via the well-known Christmas carol, “What Child Is This?”  There could hardly be a better introduction. 

I have a theory that all truly great music—simple or complex—is not created but rather discovered by the composer.  Such music is, I envision, part of a body of music already known and celebrated in heaven.  I could be wrong, but some music is so sublime that it seems to me impossible that heaven could not already be aware of it.  It is my thought that “Greensleeves” belongs to such a class of discovered music.  Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, Pachelbel’s Canon in D, the folk tune “Shenandoah,” among many others, are part of that divine play list, along with beauties yet to be discovered.  So it seems to me.

The words to the carol of which I write are fit for the melody.  They are a soul deep meditation on why the birth of this Baby is so important.  The musings lead to an answer found in what this Child would later do.  The mortal mission of Christ the King is incomparably important to you and me.

I fear that many modern renditions miss—or perhaps even avoid—the point. Among the some two dozen recordings of the carol in my possession, I recently discovered to my surprise that all but maybe four leave out the second of three verses, the one that holds a central place in the poem penned by the author, William C. Dix.  Some repeat, again and again, the true declaration of the first verse that this Child is “Christ the King.”  Recognition of that reality is important, but how far does it get you?  Even Herod believed and feared that prophecy, a belief that goaded him to destroy all of the babes of Bethlehem that his soldiers could find.

Why did Christ the King find it necessary to lower Himself to be born among men?  That is the central question, understanding the answer to which converts our attitude toward Christ from more than reverence for a Divine Monarch into humble love born of joy and boundless gratitude.  The second verse explains what is at the heart of Christmas.  But listen to your recording and see whether these words are included:

Why lies He in such mean estate,
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christians, fear, for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.
Nails, spear shall pierce Him through,
The cross be borne for me, for you.
Hail, hail the Word made flesh,
The babe, the Son of Mary.

This little Child would be pierced by nails and spear when He was older but no less innocent.  Why would He submit to that?  Why would the King submit to that?  We worship Christ not just because He is the King, but because of what this King has done for us.

I conceive of a day, a moment, when those very men who pounded the nails into the Savior’s hands and feet come personally to realize, come face-to-face with, what they have done.  What depth of grief that this knowledge will cause to the minds of those men—of those moments in that day—I can imagine in only the smallest degree.  They will be the only men, among the billions who have trod the earth, who with hammers in their fists drove nails into the hands and feet of the Creator and their Savior.  What will that recognition mean to them?

Perhaps the Savior’s plea from the cross, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do,” will be the beginning of some healing solace when they do know what they personally did.  I suspect that this is not the limit of the mercy that the Savior will extend to these, His brothers, who were so close to the Son of God in this horrible way.

Then I am drawn to consider, how will we feel when our day comes, and it surely will, when we stand face-to-face and see those wounds in His hands and feet?  How will we feel when we come to understand perfectly, as we will, that our own, personal sins made those wounds necessary, that because of what we knowingly have done there was no other way, that we helped to make those nails unavoidable?  More, how will we feel, looking in the Savior’s eyes, when we fully understand that depending on our repentance the suffering that we personally caused was entirely and eternally worth it, or in absence of our repentance all for naught?  At that moment our joy and our love or our grief and pain will be without measure.

 
Let us decide now, for we may, to let our loving hearts enthrone Him.

Of the Songs of Angels and Our Part in their Story

There are many beautiful carols sung, performed on instruments, whistled, and even hummed to celebrate Christmas.  They are among the more significant and important ways of remembering and worshiping the Savior as we commemorate His birth—the most important is to do His works, as He showed us.

A beautiful American carol—not heard nearly enough today—is “It Came upon the Midnight Clear,” words by Edmund Hamilton Sears, music by Richard Storrs Willis.  Part of this carol’s power, much like “Joy to the World,” is that it unites the certain news of the Savior’s birth with the prophecies of Christ’s return.  Just as surely as Christ’s birth happened in complete fulfillment of thousands of years of prophecy and prayer, so may we trust that the prophecies of the Savior’s return will be fulfilled in every particular.

The night before His birth, the Savior declared to the prophet Nephi, “on the morrow come I into the world, to show unto the world that I will fulfill all that which I have caused to be spoken by the mouth of my holy prophets.” (3 Nephi 1:13)  That declaration applied to all of the prophecies, those of His birth, His ministry, His atoning sacrifice, His resurrection, and His return in the latter days.

That is the message of the carol by Sears and Willis:

              It came upon the midnight clear,
              That glorious song of old,
              From angels bending near the earth
              To touch their harps of gold:
              “Peace on the earth, good will to men
              From heav’n’s all-gracious King.”
              The world in solemn stillness lay
              To hear the angels sing.

The carol begins with reflections on the ancient story, proclaimed by unimpeachable messengers from heaven, of the birth of the Prince of Peace, tidings sent from His Father, the King.  The carol does not stop there.  It moves forward to remind us what that song of old means for us today.  In short, the story did not end on that midnight clear; the story continues.  We are in the story.

             Still thru the cloven skies they come
             With peaceful wings unfurled,
             And still their heav’nly music floats
             O’er all the weary world.
             Above its sad and lowly plains
             They bend on hov’ring wing,
             And ever o’er its babel sounds
             The blessed angels sing.

The angels’ work has not ended, their song continues, the messengers of heaven yet minister to us in modern times to our weary world.  As today’s leaders say more and lead less, and the “babel” of voices increases, the need for the message of the angels grows.  The angels still have much work to do.  They are needed now ever as much as they were two thousand years ago.  What is their message?  That the days proclaimed by prophets throughout the ages are arriving.  Ours, too, is a momentous age.  We are part of the story spoken and begun anciently, still extending toward a conclusion yet ahead.

             For lo! the days are hast’ning on,
             By prophets seen of old,
             When with the ever circling years
             Shall come the time foretold,
             When the new heav’n and earth shall own
             The Prince of Peace their King,
             And the whole world send back the song
             Which now the angels sing.

As we worship each Christmas time, and throughout the year, let the message of this song, and the words of the prophets—ancient and modern—remind us that the time is hastening on as foretold.  As we live and move through the weary world, we need not be weary. We can listen to the messages from heaven and rejoice.  We can own the Prince of Peace our King and send back the song that the angels in our day are still singing.

Of What We Know and What We Are

Recently, while reading in Edward Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, I thought back to when my two oldest daughters attended nursery during Sunday School hours at church.  We were then members of a congregation with many young families.  There were so many children that they divided the nursery into Senior Nursery and Junior Nursery.  The dividing line was between those who had turned two by the start of the year and those who had not yet reached that august age.  My older daughter—who is a real sweetheart and has since become the mother of daughters herself—was very proud that she was in Senior Nursery, while her sister was in Junior Nursery.

The mysterious relationship between my reading of the Romans and those events of not so long ago is that both emphasize how brief and transitory this life is.  Whether our mortal life is allocated more than 70 years or fewer than 7, the time all told is rather short, and I dare say mercifully so. 

This life is filled with the rich, the beautiful, as well as what is poor and ugly, and mostly what is very much temporary and does not matter.  The emperors of Rome came and went so quickly, few living to die of natural causes.  They scraped and fought and intrigued and connived to possess what they could not hold for long and which at the end left them nothing.  The royal purple for the emperors at last was little more important than whether my daughters were in Senior or Junior Nursery.  It all mattered about the same.

Some things do matter, greatly.  While they can involve tangible things, all that in this life of lasting value is intangible and survives the universal tomb.  Now I am watching my children cope with the mighty challenges that life concentrates into the years of transition from adolescence to adulthood.  Life’s calling, personal dedication, education, careers, marriage, family, truly life-changing decisions come at these young people inexorably in relentless and rapid succession.  They have tangible elements of mortality to employ as tools to aid and markers to help measure the evaluating and making of these important decisions.  They wade into deep problems when these material tools are mistaken for the real things.

As parents we watch, support, counsel, encourage, but the decisions are no longer ours.  With no small amount of concern, and with generous measures of satisfaction, we can witness these whom we love the most exercise their own free will to lay out the remaining course of their mortality.  For Mom and Dad, this period of life has been rich, sometimes painful, and frequently joyful.  It is for us a harvesting time, even while for our children it is mostly a time of planting.  

I am reminded that, with each graduation, one proceeds from the top of a staircase onto the bottom step of a new one.  When my daughter left Senior Nursery, she was at the bottom of the classes of Primary.  The seniors in high school become the freshmen in college.  The college graduate becomes the “newbie” at work.  In my employment I frequently am called upon to consider candidates for jobs.  Shall I tell you how little impressed I would be to learn that a particular applicant had been student council president or editor of the yearbook?

I believe that so it goes in the heavens.  We eternally progress from stage to stage, with Jesus Christ as our Guide, Leader, and Teacher, each stage well done qualifying us to begin the next, bringing us ever closer to become more like our Father in Heaven.  The value is in this very real becoming.  Our greatest worldly achievements of rank and fame bring with them into heaven as little weight as our grade school awards convey into adulthood.  With much concern God watches how we make our decisions, how we develop our character, with satisfaction and joy as we choose what is good and act well.  Like wise parents, God cannot and will not choose for us, our choices at planting being part of His joy in the harvest.

Again, as I recall my children in nursery, and my grandchildren there today, I reflect that there is so much that I would tell them but which they would not begin to understand.  There is a treasury of what I have learned in over 5 decades that I would share but that would be completely incomprehensible to a granddaughter or grandson in primary school. 

Then I reflect that compared to my Heavenly Father, my treasury is the knowledge of an infant, that I even today am such a little child in terms of what I know.  Indeed, were I to know all that there is available to know in this life, it would still be so very little compared with what our Father in the eternal worlds knows and has for us to learn when we once again live with Him.  A modern Apostle, Dallin H. Oaks (a former university president), once remarked that an omniscient God is not all that impressed with our Ph.Ds.  

But if I do well with what He has given and taught me, I have received the living hope from His Son that I may come step by step in the presence of the Father to know all that He would share, which is everything.  That is humbling and exhilarating.  I am glad that I have not really very long to wait, and that I can learn my first lessons even now.

Of Holidays and Recreation

The holidays are fast upon us. The store displays are relentless clues (even if they rush things a bit). While growing up I looked forward to Hallowe’en, in part for the costume and candy celebration itself, but in no small part as the gateway to a series of rich and usually joyful holidays. October ended with Hallowe’en, and then Thanksgiving was observed a few weeks later. Right after Thanksgiving we were into the Christmas holidays. Quickly after Christmas came New Year, followed in February by Valentine’s Day, and at varying intervals Easter arrived amidst the celebration of Spring and new life.

I have a generous treasury of enchanting memories from those holidays. I recall one magical Hallowe’en as a young boy in a neighborhood full of children. The early evening’s streets and sidewalks were filled with costumed colleagues, all busily canvassing the ready houses, milling about, comparing each other’s sweetened haul, each house ready to greet you with a smile or perhaps an expression of wonder while adding to the bulging bag of treats.

Thanksgiving, perhaps the warmest and kindest of holidays, is rich in tradition, from the family and friends who gather, foods that are prepared, the china and silverware that are used, to the preview of coming cold weather. For me and mine, Thanksgiving has been a busily gentle holiday, crowded with activity and effort, but calm and purposeful. Rambunctious noise seems foreign to the day, even with a morning pick-up football game among Church members included. Thanksgiving speaks a time of Christ-like peace in my memory. If there were exceptions, they are forgotten. A prayer, a toast, and a feast that symbolizes the riches bestowed on us by God. In later years, with my own family (my wife and our children), the evening has witnessed the first lighting of the outdoor Christmas lights. Thanksgiving has brought on the Christmas season at our home.

Christmas for us has always been a season, with many holidays. The Advent holidays lead us inexorably to Christmas Eve. In those weeks there are many celebrations, ours and others, traditional and new. We began a new tradition last year that we anticipate repeating this season. Christmas Day itself has been a time when all ordinary activity seems to stop, a Sabbath of Sabbaths. We take an emotional breather, we contact family members not spending the day with us. We enjoy time together and some time occupied alone. For us, we then let the Christmas festivities wind down of themselves to their conclusion at Epiphany, the day we quietly finish the celebration until we near the end of the new year just begun.

Speaking of which, New Years’ Eves in my life have varied widely in observance. Maybe most memorable are an evening spent with my best friend shooting a basketball at the new hoop above my garage door, and another evening as a missionary in the Canary Islands, reflecting on the arrival of 1980, musing on what the end of the twentieth century would mean two decades later. That evening, those decades appeared to be rushing at me.

Then there are Valentine’s Day and Easter arising in steady succession. Each has its own traditions, each creating its own imprint in life’s recollections.

These have stocked my treasury of marvelous memories. I am rich with them. Yet I have more observances to come. To these I look forward.

Here is what I believe about these riches. I can take them out of the treasury each year and seek to recreate them, to work to experience them all over again. If I do, I have but relived and re-experienced what I already have. I add little new to the treasury. Many people celebrate this way. It seems to me a squandered opportunity and probably dangerous. I doubt that the previous charm can be revived, that the wondrous experience of the past can be recaptured. I fear that the joyful and rich memory might even be harmed by the failed effort. Worse, much can be consumed, much exertion expended, and still frustration and misery—for myself and others—may result in the trying.

I believe that a better approach would be to create new magnificent memories. These can build upon the past and work from valuable traditions. The good of the past can be drawn upon to create something greater. The effort is to make a new experience, not vainly recall to life a treasured memory. Not every holiday experience will produce equal joy and beauty, but if allowed to live for its own sake each will add to the fullness of life and the value of our storehouse of life’s treasures. Each will have the chance to be the most marvelous experience yet.

I am not prepared to concede that the best of my life has been lived or that the finest that I can do is recreate only what has happened before. I fancy to live life on the rise. I see no loss in trying.

Bring on the holidays. I plan to observe them each as never before.

Of Hard Things and the Holy Spirit

Life is rife with hard things.  They are what make life worth living.  The easier matters are intended for rest and relief and perhaps enjoyment, but they offer little growth.  The hard things do, and life is all about growth.  When living things stop growing they decay.

God understood from the beginning the hard things that we would face.  Many of them He put here for us, “for our sake” (though we arrange plenty of hardships for ourselves).  When man and woman were expelled from the Garden of Eden God explained to them, “cursed is the ground for thy sake. . . Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee. . . In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread. . .” (Genesis 3:17-19, emphasis added)

Our Heavenly Father knew that by facing and overcoming the hard things of life we would advance and progress and become worthy to be called His children, His heirs.  As a loving Father He has also promised that we need not face the hardships of life alone, that His help would be ready at hand to take our best efforts and amplify them to be equal to the challenges, by which we are “glorified”.

. . . we are the children of God:  And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together.  For I reckon that the sufferings of the present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.  (Romans 8:16-18)

It is common to believe that some people, such as the wealthy, have it easier, that perhaps they face fewer of the hard things of life.  The Savior took on this assumption directly.   He taught His disciples that such views have it backwards:

. . . It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.  When his disciples heard it, they were exceedingly amazed, saying, Who then can be saved?  But Jesus beheld their thoughts, and said unto them, With men this is impossible; but . . . with God whatsoever things I speak are possible.  (Matthew 19:24-26, JST)

No one escapes hard things.  Like opportunities for growth, they are for everyone, including the rich.  We can, however, overcome life’s troubles, God working with us, making all good things possible.

How is it done?  Sometimes, surely more often than we know, God intervenes directly and removes obstacles, provides tools, brings friends and allies, and otherwise lowers barriers or lifts us over them.  Perhaps even more frequently He increases our power and ability.

The Holy Spirit in particular can give us the power to do hard things as we qualify for that help.  Consider some of the gifts of the Spirit.  The ancient American prophet, Moroni, reminded us that these spiritual powers “are many”, given “unto men, to profit them.”  As examples he cited wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing, prophecy, interpretation of languages, and others, explaining that these gifts of the Spirit are available to “every man” (see Moroni 10:8-17).  The Apostle Paul provided a similar list in his letter to the saints at Corinth (see 1 Corinthians 12:8-11).  A modern Apostle, Parley P. Pratt, offered us this description of the power and influence of the Holy Spirit, speaking as the others did from personal experience, not theory or hypothesis:

It quickens all the intellectual faculties, increases, enlarges, expands and purifies all the natural passions and affections. . . It inspires, develops, cultivates and matures all the fine-toned sympathies, joys, tastes, kindred feelings and affections of our nature.  It inspires virtue, kindness, goodness, tenderness, gentleness and charity. . . . It invigorates all the faculties of the physical and intellectual man. . . . In short, it is, as it were, marrow to the bone, joy to the heart, light to the eyes, music to the ears, and life to the whole being.  (Parley P. Pratt, Key to the Science of Theology, p.101) 

With such godly influence we can surmount every challenge that we need to rise above and withstand the sorrows of life we are called upon to endure.  That is the secret, at least in part, to the counsel and promise from God,

Therefore, let your hearts be comforted; for all things shall work together for good to them that walk uprightly. . . (Doctrine and Covenants 100:15)

Of the Arrival of Christmas and the Return of the Christ

Christmas came this year.  Nothing could stop it.  People could and did choose to ignore it, with varying success, but their efforts made no difference to Christmas’ arrival.  Neither poverty nor wealth could hold it back.  Merchants lamented the shortened shopping season.  Early wintry weather interfered with many transportation plans.  Irreligionists of many stripes raised their usual objections to the public symbols of Christmas and in some places succeeded in suppressing those symbols.  Wars and rumors of wars exerted their perennial presence to mock sentiments of peace on earth all the while proving its need.  On personal levels, challenges at work, demanding academic schedules, unexpected as well as chronic illness, the death of loved ones, and many other matters and intrusions of varying importance fought for the precedence of our attention. 

Many causes large and small could easily leave the feeling that there was no time for Christmas, this year or other years.  The distractions of life can all too easily make the sources of lasting value appear as distractions.

I am again reminded of the words of Charles Dickens.  He spoke through the mouth of young, idealistic Fred, in answer to his Uncle Ebenezer’s rodomontade against Christmas.  The not yet but soon to be converted miser thought his daily work focused on important matters, all the while missing out on the sources of joy in life.  Fred reminded his Uncle, as a prelude to a change of heart, how Christmas symbolized humanity’s worth in life’s lasting values, to which worldly wealth can serve as a facilitator but never a replacement.

There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say, . . . Christmas among the rest.  But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round—apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that—as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut up hearts freely, and to think of those people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.  And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!  (Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol)

And so this year, in 2013 Christmas came, inevitably, inexorably, as it has for some two thousand years, and many blessings with it.  The good and bad and indifferent that hitched along for the ride could not affect the driving core of Christmas, its fundamental, joyful message of hope of salvation for all, to one degree or another as each opens up—or not—to receive it.

It is in the driving arriving context of Christmas and the mission of Christ that it is appropriate to look to one of my favorite Christmas carols.  I confess that this is difficult to do without the music, essential to the power of the carol’s message.  I refer to the “Carol of the Bells,” a joyful Christmas message woven by Peter J. Wilhousky into the driving music of Mykola Leontovych’s Ukrainian song of Winter and the approaching Spring. 

I love this carol for many reasons.  One is that its origin of uniting Winter with Spring embodies the message that Christmas derives its meaning from Easter.  Jesus was the Christ, the Anointed One, because of His ultimate sacrifice and victory over death and hell, a mission for which He was chosen before the world was created.  Having fully accomplished His mission, as a resurrected God, Jesus declared, “I have drunk out of that bitter cup which the Father hath given me, and have glorified the Father in taking upon me the sins of the world” (3 Nephi 11:11).  That is the reason for and fulfilment of our Christmas joy.

Here are the lyrics.  Importantly, as you read the words, feel their rhythm, central to the message:

Carol of the Bells

 

Hark how the bells,

sweet silver bells,

all seem to say,

throw cares away.

 

Christmas is here,

bringing good cheer,

to young and old,

meek and the bold.

 

Ding dong ding dong,

that is their song

with joyful ring

all caroling.

 

One seems to hear

words of good cheer

from ev’rywhere

filling the air.

 

Oh how they pound,

raising the sound,

o’er hill and dale,

telling their tale,

 

gaily they ring

while people sing

songs of good cheer,

Christmas is here.

 

Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas,

Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas,

 

On, on they send,

on without end,

their joyful tone

to ev’ry home.

 

Ding dong ding dong. . . dong!

The lyrics, like the tune, are repetitive, incessant, and by that technique insistent in rhythm.  On, on they come.  They demand attention.  Like bells, they are loud and piercing.  As someone knocking at the door, their message—and presumably the messengers—will not be denied.  The tune is joyful, but not light and airy.  Rather announcing a joy that comes from the soul, heartfelt, it is not the celebration of a party, but the celebration of a triumph, lasting and permanent, ever reaching out to more people, to every home.

So each year, onward Christmas comes, no holding it back, even as Jesus came into the world, as prophesied for thousands of years.  There was nothing to hold Him back or deter His mortal mission of redemption, not the jealousy of Herod “the Great,” the pusillanimity of Pilate, the hatred of the leaders of the Sanhedrin, nor the darkness of priestcraft and its traditions.  All was turned by God to assist in achieving the mission of the Christ.

And since then, onward marches the calendar, each year Christmas arrives, symbolic that the day of the Savior’s return, as prophesied by Himself and His prophets, inexorably approaches.  As Christ announced, only He and the Father know the precise day and time, but it is certain and each day closer.  The arrival of Christmas each year is a reminder to me, that the time of rejoicing is coming, the hope and assurance of which justifies rejoicing today, and every day.

Christmas will come again next year.  Ready or not, I am glad of it and will welcome it.