Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts

Sunday, December 24, 2023

Christmas 2023: "...the shadow of the cross is cast by the light of Bethlehem's star."

From the first moment my wife discovered she had breast cancer; the first hints of Dad's Alzheimer's; the first of my own grapples with diabetes...there was an awkward silence from the men I know. Even ones whose wives, mothers or girlfriends had breast cancer, or parent or spouse had Alzheimer's Disease, or who had Type 1 or Type 2 Diabetes themselves...seem disinclined to talk and did little more than mumble about the experience. Not one to shut up for any known reason, I started this blog…


I remember the first holiday during my wife’s recovery – the double mastectomy had been in March; chemotherapy had taken most of the summer. Then the holidays were upon us.

I didn’t write about ANYTHING having to do with them. I certainly don’t remember what we did, but my guess is that family time was curtailed and we likely spent that time at home.

The significant thing was that I DIDN’T WRITE ABOUT IT.

If you take a moment and notice the nearly 500 posts I’ve done since March of 2011, you can imagine the significance of that. I was writing about different kinds of cancers as well as describing the origins and effects of the various drugs she’d endured during chemotherapy.

I was NOT talking about either her feelings or my feelings during the holidays. There are no comments on Thanksgiving or the first day of school or any other significant days during that time. Everything was focused on CANCER. DEFEATING CANCER. My “Christmas Message” in 2012 was “Chemo Killed Colds?” How meaningful.

Maybe I was mad still? My daughter certainly was.

Finally, in 2013, I dealt with it. Below you’ll find the post I managed to write then…

"Random, huh? Whew! Talk about random! Why would thoughts of death intrude on this holy time of year when we celebrate Santa Claus, children, “Ho, ho, ho!”, RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSED REINDEER…

Oh, and the Birth of the Christ Child.

I think about how Target and Walmart and Kay Jewelers and Marshall’s have coopted the season. And Christians fight back with pictures of Santa kneeling at the Manger.

My wife and daughter and I watched one of our season’s favorites the other night, Joyeux Noël (a 2005 French film about the World War I Christmas truce of December 1914, depicted through the eyes of French, Scottish and German soldiers…written and directed by Christian Carion…screened out of competition at the 2005 Cannes Film Festival…nominated for Best Foreign Language Film at the 78th Academy Awards. The film was one of Ian Richardson's last appearances before his death on 9 February 2007.)

The one Christian Holy Day Wall Street has never been able to coopt is Easter, because Easter is secularly speaking, about a gruesome, governmental execution. For Christians it’s about sacrifice and Resurrection – much like the film, Joyeux Noël.

Much like life in the shadow of death that breast cancer brings to everyone who experiences it, or loves someone who experiences it, or works with those who experience it. Like the inevitable end of virtually every Alzheimer's patient. Even when a diagnosis of diabetes seems to throw a shadow over the future.

This holiday season is somewhat sober for me for many reasons. Yet somehow that has created in me a deeper appreciation for the joy of this same season – a profound thankfulness for many, many things. This thankfulness isn’t like the Christmas play in MERRY CHRISTMAS, CHARLIE BROWN! Rather it’s like the thankfulness of Linus’ recitation of Luke 2: 1-14 – calm, peaceful, fully aware of what he is saying.


An interesting side-story, from Wikipedia: "Christian Carion (who wrote "Joyeux Noel") spent his youth in his parent's farm fields in Northern France, where he was constantly reminded of World War I as the family often found dangerous, unexploded shells left over from the conflicts in the fields. He had also heard of the stories in which French soldiers would leave their trenches at night to meet with their wives in the surrounding German-occupied towns and return to fight the next morning. Carion stated that he'd never heard of the actual Christmas truce incidents while growing up in France, as the French Army and authorities suppressed them, having been viewed as an act of disobedience. He was introduced to the stories via a historian who showed him photos and documents archived in France, Great Britain, and Germany, and became fascinated. He tried to portray all of the soldiers with equal sympathy, as "the people on the frontline can understand each other because they are living the same life and suffering the same way", so he could understand how the truce could have come about. He endeavored to stay true to the real stories, but one of the things he had to change was the fate of the cat that crossed into various trenches. In reality, the cat was accused of spying, arrested by the French Army and then shot by a firing squad, as an actual traitor would have been. The extras in the movie refused to participate in this scene, so it was amended to have the cat imprisoned."]

On that sobering note, and as a reminder of something I discovered a few days ago, "I forget that the shadow of the cross is cast by the light of the star over Bethlehem", I go to ponder this again...


May your Holy Day Season remind you of the same.

Image: http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2080/2146696283_afc861ff00_o.jpg

Sunday, December 26, 2021

Christmas Ruminations Across Breast Cancer, Alzheimer's, and Science Fiction!

It occurred to me this morning that many bloggers, have somewhere stored, a Christmas blog they trot out each year to look at and revisit. Below is my attempt at this venerable tradition…

Like many people, I have Christmas traditions. I watch Jim Carrey’s HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS. I check out a copy of Dicken’s A CHRISTMAS CAROL (the version with Patrick Stewart, Star Trek:TNG’s Jean-Luc Picard playing Ebenezer Scrooge). I snuggle up to the TV to listen to Burl Ives sing in the animatronic/Claymation version of RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSED REINDEER.

Of course I read the Christmas story from Luke 1:1 – 2:20, but I dig out my old December 1997 issue of ANALOG and reread “Easter Egg Hunt: A Christmas Story” by Jeffrey Kooistra. I also find time alone to watch the video tape of a Christmas musical I scripted with music and lyrics by an old, old friend of mine, Lynn Swanson. The musical was called “Just In Time For Christmas” and was a children’s time-travel version of A CHRISTMAS CAROL with a couple of twists. Performed twice by a huge cast of kids from my church, it included both my son as an Outsider-sort of angel and my daughter as a shepherd who was watching her fields by night.

I conclude then that for me Christmas is about the past. It ranges from ancient times in far-away Israel to present day kerfuffles about what to do Christmas day when my sister is in Virginia with her “other” family and our get-together last Saturday was postponed because of a frigid blizzard and moved to January sometime and will include celebrating my mom’s 75th (As of this update, Mom passed away five years ago this past July) birthday and the fact that I’ll be working most of today at Barnes & Noble and Mom and Dad are coming for Christmas Eve dinner and I won’t be around to help get ready. 

This past includes my daughter’s concern about the commercialization of Christmas that led her to ask us to spend the money we would have used on her to get a sewing machine for an organization that teaches women in northern India to sew for a living. On the other hand, my son loves to seek out just the right gift for each person and disdains gift cards – he loves the giving part of Christmas. He started the small avalanche of gifts under the tree right now when he set out his college-student-meager presents.

My wife was talking to a cashier at a local warehouse grocery story a few hours ago and asked what the day held for her. The woman said that she hated working Christmas Eve because people were so crabby – they yell at cashiers because the store is out of “stuff” and if anyone bumps their cart, they explode into anger. As we walked out into a flurry of gently falling, diamond sparkling “crystal rain” (see Tobias Buckell’s fabulous science fiction book, CRYSTAL RAIN to discover the origin of that phrase  -- as I am also a science fiction writer and have a sister blog to this one!( https://faithandsciencefiction.blogspot.com/), we talked about the cashier’s observations.

Under the guidance of Our Father Below (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Screwtape_Letters), we have taken a simple attempt to remember the birth of the Son of God and have turned it into a tension-filled extravaganza of over-spending, over-eating and secular glitz that eclipses the original pagan ritual from which it sprang.

The original event also included a kerfuffle as well as a brush with governmental bureaucracy, so maybe it was only natural that we perpetuated Mary and Joseph’s search for a place for her to have Jesus by our searches for the perfect gift, food or event.

Take a deep breath, Guy. Perhaps I need to go a bit further back in time; maybe to the announcement the angel made to Mary: “For nothing will be impossible with God.” Luke 1:37. Maybe that’s the message I’ll take from this season – that no matter what happens: kerfuffles, angry shoppers, divergent gifting and traditions; nothing is impossible with God. Peace on Earth? He can bring it. Deep security? He can give it. Salvation for everyone? He did it. “For nothing is impossible with God.” Amen. (First published December 25, 2008, updated December 22, 2021)