Mark's Views, Perhaps — from behind my eyeballs
I remember Yom Kippur 1973. I was 14 years old. I lived in Cd. Obregón, Sonora, Mexico. We “kept up” with the war via CBS as broadcast by KNX out of Los Angeles.
Now it’s Yom Kippur 2012.
Will there be war again at this time? (I have wondered that in previous years.)
Pray for the peace of Jerusalem! (Psalm 122:6) Read it all
“And the light shineth in darkness” (John 1:5).
“He was in the world” (John 1:10).
“He came” (John 1:11).
“But as many as received him” (John 1:12).
“And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us…full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).
He came…to turn my darkness to light.
He came…enlighten me.
He came…that I might know Him.
He came…so I could receive Him.
He came…to give me the option of becoming a child of God.
He came…to show me His glory.
He came…to live among people such as I am.
He came…full of grace and truth…for me.
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for coming!
![[The Scriptures say in John 1:5 -- The light shineth in darkness]](/pantinghart/wp-content/the-light-shineth.jpg "God's Word says: The light shineth in darkness (John 1:5)")
Well, not really a mechanical shepherd, but a shepherd who looks like a mechanic and a mechanic who acts like a shepherd. But makes a much-too-long title.
Every Christmas we trot out the crèche again. We peel off the newspaper wrappings and arrange the usual cast of characters—three wise men holding presents one kneeling; three shepherds one with lamb on shoulders; infant bearing adult’s demeanor, arms outstretched; Mary genuflecting by the straw crib; Joseph hovering over his wife.
We say the usual things about the shepherds: “See how God loves the humble. See how He revealed himself to those rough men and not to the wise and learned. Were there no great scribes and teachers in Jerusalem that God should pass them over to go to a field?” We say all that but we would drop dead with surprise if in our day God brought important news to Joe Homeless in South Philadelphia and gave him the assignment of delivering the message to the local accredited Bible schools. He wouldn’t get past the receptionist.
I met a real live “shepherd” last week in Bernville, Pa. His name is Andy Merrick and he looks a little rough, to tell you the truth. It’s because he spends a lot of time under cars and at car auctions, buying and repairing vehicles for missionaries. In high school his friends took bets that he wouldn’t live past 19. God had other plans. After he got saved, Andy thought part of that plan was Bible school. But when he tried to wrap his mind around Greek and Hebrew paradigms, he didn’t know why he was there, and he says the teachers didn’t either.
Andy went to Peru as a missionary for 18 months and noticed they were working with lousy equipment, so he came back home and started collecting and fixing cars for them, till his neighbors in South Jersey objected to the fleet on his lawn and he had to ask God for more land, which the Lord obliged him with.
Andrée Seu wrote that (and a bit more) over at WorldMagBlog: The shepherd thing.
What you’re about to read will take you in a direction different than you expected to go:
He sees her as we circle the parking lot a second time, an aimless, wandering circle, a time-killing circle while we wait for their mother to finish a bit of shopping. I have already seen the woman — a girl, really, with tangled dark hair and downturned gaze. She sits on a little concrete median between the entering and exiting traffic, and she holds a cardboard sign asking for money. Not even money, just anything. “Anything helps,” her sign says.
I have already seen her, and so, having nothing better to do, I am engaged in a lukewarm internal debate. Should I give her money? What will she do with the money? Should I drive across the street and get her McDonald’s? Don’t poor people eat badly enough as it is? What about teriyaki chicken from a nearby Japanese place? But will she turn her nose up at that? Will the drivers behind me hit their horns when I stop to give her the money or cheeseburger or chicken with rice? Will people look askance at a man stopping to talk to a young woman on the side of the road? There’s so much to be calculated, you see, in the doing of small good.
Then Caleb sees her. “Dad,” he says, “there’s a woman in the road holding a sign. What does it say?”
“She’s asking for money,” I tell him. We talk about the reasons why a person might be so poor that they take to begging in traffic. They mostly come down to bad choices and illnesses of the heart and mind.
“We should give her some money,” he says.
[…]
I am proud of my son and I want to be like him and I am afraid one day he will be like me, all of these thoughts in me at once, and so what I say is that I love him.
If you only read what I have excerpted above, you are cheating yourself. You really should read the full story over at Sand in the Gears.
Then clean out your gearbox.
And a joyous Christmas to you as well.
Update: Avoiding Eye Contact
The Fairview Christmas Pageant — hmm, lemme think — I think we’ve gone the last three years. But I don’t think I’ll take the time off to go tonight.
When the curtain rose Wednesday night at the Fairview Mennonite Church in Albany, the annual Christmas program ushered in its 20th year of production.
“You Are There: Jesus Christ, His Birth” is the production that has been a seasonal staple in Albany since 1989.
“It’s come a long way,” said Leonard Gerig, who adapted the program from a script by Jim Grant. “We’ve undergone a few changes over the years but it is much the same as when we started.”
The church performs three shows each year involving about 120 people from the congregation.
[…]
“Our goal is to make the Christmas story come alive,” Gerig said. “This is our gift to the community.”
A very nice, very enjoyable, very well done gift — thanks, Leonard and crew!