Turning 32...

Playing "Grandpa" for a Christmas play, 2004.

Not sure what to think of 32. I hardly got to know 31. Come to think of it, whatever happened to 30?

Isn't it funny how time changes as time progresses? Oh, I'm sure some nuclear physicist out there would set me in my logical place over that last sentence, but many times what is true of our experience doesn't match what logic and math tells us. I know that time doesn't change. But our perception of it sure does. One day we're young and we feel that way. Sooner than we want, we feel old. Sometimes those two feelings are a matter of days apart. Sometimes hours.

One truth about life is that every person is getting older and more frail. Even someone who is 12 years old. Our bodies gradually disintegrate until they can handle time no more and they lay down for a final rest. Not so with our souls, for sure, but definitely true of our bodies. And each birthday is a reminder of that frailty. And a reminder to me that I need to be focusing more and more on the spirit and not neglecting the spirit in favor of the flesh. Saint Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians that even though our flesh may be getting weaker and weaker, our inner man -- our spirit -- is being renewed day by day through the power of God's Spirit. So while we live in ever decaying bodies, our hearts can be getting stronger and stronger if we let God's Spirit work within us to mold us and shape us into the image of the Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.

That's what I'm thinking on this day, when I turned 32.

Four Dollar Grace

Megan and I went to a hockey game tonight and, even though we had a wonderful time, we nearly didn't make it back home because we both made an important omission. We didn't have any cash. Not even a dime (though we did see one flipping on the bottom of an escalator). It's easy to think that in the modern society cash is gradually becoming obsolete. I mean, with credit and debit cards and all, who needs the green stuff? We did. Tonight. You see, we took the local transit train to the sports arena and should have known trouble was brewing when the ticket dispensers could not read our credit cards (nor anyone else's). A transit worker told us to go ahead and get on board and so we did.

Grace number one.

When we arrived at the train station to ride back, the ticket dispensers there didn't even take credit cards. Just cash. That's right. JUST cash. We hurried around to find an ATM and I withdrew $40 in two 20's. Thinking our cash problem was solved, we arrived back at the dispensers to find that they didn't take 20's. Our fare was $3. Both freezing in the cold wind, we were frustrated and quite unhappy! So Megan did something impusive: she asked a few people waiting for a different train if they had change for a 20. One man looked at us and said he had some ones. We walked closer with the 20 and he reached into his wallet. Four ones. And some 20's. Nothing else. Drats! Then the man did something remarkable. He GAVE us the four ones. Just gave them to us.

Grace number two.

We were the foolish ones by not taking cash along. We didn't deserve four dollars. But he gave them anyway. We put three of them in the machine. Two one-way tickets came out. I retruned the dollar to the gentleman and said, "God bless you" to him as Megan and I rushed to board the train. I never heard the man's name. But if you, sir, somehow stumble across this humble blog: "Thank you." You blessed our lives tonight and showed us the grace of God through your simple sacrifice. We are in your debt.

Celebrating Jolly Ole Saint Nick

Before there was a "Night Before Christmas" or paintings by Courier and Ives, there was Nicholas, a humble Christian man from Modern Day Turkey. Yesterday, Dec. 6, was the Feast Day of Nicholas, known in the modern day as St. Nick, but his true legend has been long lost through the centuries. You see, this man we Americans call "Santa Claus" did not want the praise we have heaped upon him. No, jolly ole St. Nick was actually a young pastor who lived in the AD 300s and did his works of mercy under the cover of secrecy and night. Here's a column I wrote a number of years ago for my newspaper after researching the legends of Nicholas, Bishop of Myra, that I hope shows you why I consider St. Nicholas to be my "patron saint" (if I'm allowed to have one!).

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December 22, 2002
The Grapevine Sun

Christmas all started with a small sack of gold.
No, really – a small sack of gold.

But before you brand this theologian a heretic, please allow me to explain.
The true “Christmas” happened when God came down to become man, being born one cool winter’s night over 2,000 years ago.

But the “Christmas” I am referring to is the secular one, which actually also has religious roots.
The sack of gold coins was either thrown through the window, or dropped down the chimney, of the home of a destitute family in Myra, Turkey, around the year 300. The culprit was a mystery.
The family was in a desperate situation. A father, a nobleman with three daughters, found his financial situation growing worse by the day. His business had failed and he and his daughters had little to live on.

And when his oldest daughter announced that she wanted to get married, the father’s heart sank because he had no money for the customary bridal dowry. One of her younger sisters than announced that she would sell herself into slavery to provide the money, but, of course, no one in town wanted to see that happen.

News of the predicament came to a concerned gentleman one day and he decided to do something about it.

Long into the night, the father heard a “thud” out in his living room. Groggy as any person would be early in the early morning hours, he looked in the room to see a small sack lying on the floor.
Upon further investigation, he found gold inside and started to panic. Who threw this in his house? And whose gold is this?

He quickly ran to the door and threw it open, looking outside for the culprit. But there was no one there. And as any one of us would do, he started rejoicing and kept the money, paying off his debts and affording his oldest daughter a nice dowry.

About a year later, his second daughter announced that she wanted to be married. But the gold was long gone and the poor father was once again broke.

He awoke one morning to find another sack of gold lying on his living room floor. The stranger had struck again! There was no note with the gold, and no one in town knew who might have done such a selfless deed.

The identity of the gold giver was safely anonymous, which was to his preference.
Some time later the youngest daughter announced her marriage wishes to her poor father, and the father suspected that another gift would soon be coming. So he set up a string-and-bells perimeter alarm to let him know if the kind stranger returned.

Late one night, the father awoke to the sound of the bells. He rushed into his living room to see another sack on the floor, and then dashed to the door to see if he could catch the benevolent bandit as he left the scene.

The father looked outside and saw a man hurrying away from the house. He ran after him and finally caught up to the man, recognizing a familiar face.

The gift-giver was Nicholas, the young archbishop of the church in Myra.
“Why did you give us the gold?” the father asked.
“Because you needed it,” Nicholas answered.
“But why didn’t you let us know who you were?” the father asked again.
“Because it’s good to give and have only God know about it,” came the reply.

Even though Nicholas begged the father not to tell anyone about his good deeds, the father couldn’t keep silent and told as many people in the town as possible. Pretty soon, Bishop Nicholas became associated with many other anonymous acts of kindness that had gone on in the town over the previous few years.

He did it all without expecting something in return. He did it out of obedience, for his Lord Jesus had said 270 years earlier, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

As the leader of the local church, he felt responsible for meeting the needs of his church members, and dedicated his wealth to doing so. According to some reports, he would at times disguise himself and secretly visit the homes of the most needy under the cloak of darkness. He delivered food, clothing and money.

And the recipients had no idea where the blessings came from. They just knew that the Lord had answered their prayers and met their needs.

After a lifetime of service, Nicholas died on Dec. 6, 342.

But his charitable ways did not end then. His way of anonymous giving was carried on by the local townsfolk, who did it all in the name of Saint Nicholas.

Eventually, the late bishop’s legend spread across Europe. Saint Nicholas became “Saint Nicklaus” in Holland and then “Sinter Klaus” in Germany. In America, it was changed once again to “Santa Claus.”

And the tradition of giving anonymous gifts has continued with the name. As this tradition continues Wednesday morning, and many of you participate in the exchanging of gifts, remember Saint Nicholas, who gave without return and found the highest joy in doing so.

Let that be your Christmas goal – to not let the gifts you receive rule your holiday attitude. Enjoy the blessings of giving.

Quotes of the Past Year

These were collected over the past year from my church's youth pastor, Brent McKinney, who has a knack for summarizing spiritual truths in catchy, bite-sized sentences. Here are a few I ran across today while clearing out some old papers on my desk.

"We need to follow the Christ who IS rather than the Christ we want." Said in response to Ephesians 4:20-24, which says: "You, however, did not come to know Christ that way. Surely you heard of him and were taught in him in accordance with the truth that is in Jesus. You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness."

"You've got to talk about the darkness before you can talk about the light." Said in response to 2 Corinthians 4:3-6, which says, "And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness,"made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ."

Brent McKinney, quote machine