"The outward symbols disappear
From him whose inward sight is clear;
And small must be the choice of days
To him who fills them all with praise!
"Keep while you need it, brothers mine,
With honest seal your Christmas sign,
But judge not him who every morn
Feels in his heart the Lord Christ born!"
The Christmas holidays for some strange reason have most oft for me, been filled with feelings of melancholy. Oh I tell ya, I suffered some excruciatingly sad ones growing up and maybe it is that which haunts me. And then again, maybe there is a thousand unknown reasons why I have found little joy in the celebratory season. Well, this season has been different, in that I suffer a joy mixed with sorrow and a glory stirred with suffering. Such are the ways I believe, when one has even surrendered his emotions to the Lord. Surely it is His joy and sorrow, glory and suffering that are precious parts and golden parcels for the making of a priest after the likeness of Jesus. There is always the paradox in the Kingdom, so in keeping such my soul wrestles the spirit. The two parts of the inward man grapple dizzily, one mixing it up with the other, often times leaving my awareness in a pleasant slow motion bliss. It is in this state of surrender, where it matters not whether tears fall or laughter erupts. One might even describe this experience as an oblivious pleasant dream state of not knowing where spirit meets soul, but resting in a deep trust that there is sacred union taking place beyond any of our efforts. It is almost as the place, I have heard women, who have suffered labor, describe. They talk of the setting, where the foreign pain is so great, one finds escape in an out of body realm. There, the expectant mother feels like she is looking down on the scene of the workings of the birth of a child. So it seems, God has made wondrous escape for me this season. I have been miraculously translated from melancholy to the state of being a peaceful observer of the ongoing union and birthing process of spirit and soul bringing forth the mature son in Christ image. Tonight, with pleasant cleansing tears, born of a menagerie of emotions, I write in wonderment of God's ways with me. Bless His Name, for there is none like Him and He is good ........... so very very good.
Just so happened today, I enjoyed a lovely phone visit with the lady, in who's home I met Jesus, some thirty five years ago. She is a most wise and compassionate soul and she tells it like it is. I so love that kind of person. And what a wonder, my friend and I should be close after all these years and further more, miraculous is it, that we would know the same Sovereign God of Love that saves all. What are the odds on that!
So Caroline and I were catching up and I was sharing my strange and unique pleasant state, when she was quickened to a poem. She gave a little synopsis, after sharing the title and author. This was one of those eureka moments, as I was looking for the missing part for the blog I wanted to publish. I felt there was something out there that I would come across to introduce some video songs that reflect my many emotions these last few days. So with out further adieu, I share a most incredible gift of poetry and then some songs that really moved me this week. Be blessed my dear friends and I pray your Christmas season is as wonderfully filled with Him, as mine.
Jack
With this poem, just the title alone grabbed me, as I believe to really know Christ, one must enter the mystical realm of understanding.
The Mystic's Christmas
by John Greenleaf Whittier
"All hail!" the bells of Christmas rang,
"All hail!" the monks at Christmas sang,
The merry monks who kept with cheer
The gladdest day of all their year.
But still apart, unmoved thereat,
A pious elder brother sat
Silent, in his accustomed place,
With God's sweet peace upon his face.
"Why sitt'st thou thus?" his brethren cried,
"It is the blessed Christmas-tide;
The Christmas lights are all aglow,
The sacred lilies bud and blow.
"Above our heads the joy-bells ring,
Without the happy children sing,
And all God's creatures hail the morn
On which the holy Christ was born.
"Rejoice with us; no more rebuke
Our gladness with thy quiet look."
The gray monk answered, "Keep, I pray,
Even as ye list, the Lord's birthday.
"Let heathen Yule fires flicker red
Where thronged refectory feasts are spread;
With mystery-play and masque and mime
And wait-songs speed the holy time!
"The blindest faith may haply save;
The Lord accepts the things we have;
And reverence, howsoe'er it strays,
May find at last the shining ways.
"They needs must grope who cannot see,
The blade before the ear must be;
As ye are feeling I have felt,
And where ye dwell I too have dwelt.
"But now, beyond the things of sense,
Beyond occasions and events,
I know, through God's exceeding grace,
Release from form and time and space.
"I listen, from no mortal tongue,
To hear the song the angels sung;
And wait within myself to know
The Christmas lilies bud and blow.
"The outward symbols disappear
From him whose inward sight is clear;
And small must be the choice of days
To him who fills them all with praise!
"Keep while you need it, brothers mine,
With honest seal your Christmas sign,
But judge not him who every morn
Feels in his heart the Lord Christ born!"
I have listened to these two renditions of "Silent Night" over and over again and each time I cried for different reasons. This first song video brought a ticklish joy to my heart mixed with some sorrow. Oh, how I wish I had some children come to visit some times. How I miss the innocent magic they possess.
Here are fifty three little angels of Nagasaki with Andrea Rieu. Please enjoy.
Wow, what can I say about this next one and to say too much would be a shame, as I would wrongly color your experience in measuring this awesome song. I wept deeply with this one, as it made me think of my father, whom I lost some weeks ago. In reality, Dad was lost from me before I was even born. His overwhelming distance from my sisters and me, I believe was, in part, wrought from the ravages of war. He fought three of them as a career Naval Officer. The most damaging to Dad, I believe, was as a submariner in the Second World War. Could you imagine the harrowing horror of depth charges being dropped on you, as you lay at the bottom of the sea. How very tragic these wars and we sometime loose sight of the post traumatic ramifications that effect the many that love these warriors. May you be moved.
SILENT NIGHT IN NO MAN'S LAND 1915
The truce began on Christmas Eve, December 24, 1914, when German troops began decorating the area around their trenches in the region of Ypres, Belgium, for Christmas. They began by placing candles on trees, then continued the celebration by singing Christmas carols, most notably Stille Nacht (Silent Night). The British troops in the trenches across from them responded by singing English carols.
The two sides continued by shouting Christmas greetings to each other. Soon thereafter, there were calls for visits across the "No Man's Land" where small gifts were exchanged — whisky, jam, cigars, chocolate, and the like. The artillery in the region fell silent that night. The truce also allowed a breathing spell where recently-fallen soldiers could be brought back behind their lines by burial parties. Proper burials took place as soldiers from both sides mourned the dead together and paid their respects. At one funeral in No Man's Land, soldiers from both sides gathered and read a passage from the 23rd Psalm.
The truce spread to other areas of the lines, and there are many stories of football matches between the opposing forces. The film Joyeux Noël suggests that letters sent home from both British and German soldiers related that the score was 3-2 in favour of the Germans.
(Wikipedia)
And then, how could I not end this heartfelt and emotional writing without a most beautiful rendition of the song of all songs. I pray, you might reflect on just how amazing His grace is and how it has been so uniquely and lovingly extended to you.
.
