Merry Christmas

Yes, you heard me correctly. I want to wish you all a Merry Christmas… a heartfelt and sincere wish. This, despite the intricacies surrounding the outright deception and manipulation inherent in even in the deepest subtleties of the concept. Within the auspices of this small band, we stand at the crossroads of realization versus tradition. What of the old must go, and what is permissible to stay. As new social normative structures are established, old and – as we are now led to believe – corrupt ways are discarded. Thus, here we stand. Eye to eye, staring blankly, looking for the “proper” response to what was once so intuitive. To this I say simply and humbly, “Merry Christmas”.

It’s a lie… we’ve come to know this. Is it all a lie? This is inherently so. In this age of the cynic… where the questions lead to questions lead to differing heights of superiority in our supposed knowledge and mastery over the arcane… we revel in our perception of distance from the grid. The Christ was not born on December 25th. This is true. Even the child that that I was knew of this, and wondered not how I could be so blind. Instead, the day, whatever its etymology, stood on the merits of each passing annum. One year would seem innocent, the next less so.

Commercialism existed from the beginning… the toy commercials grander, more numerous and blatant in their enticements. Christmas was a December tradition of excesses… then it encroached upon the blowing leaves and snow and brisk airs of November… now, ever creeping into the hollows of October and it’s “Hallows Eve”… where the spirits are said to lie restless at the door, waiting the invitation to knock solidly at society’s silent veneer.

How can we doubt that we’ve been led down the proverbial primrose path? The white lie of the Saint Nicholas, the passing traditions of Sinterklaas, the consumerist’s Coca-Cola-Clause, and the dark rabbit trails of Krampus, Belsnickel, Black Peter, and Servant Rupert. Is the child you once were mindful of these things?

And what of our connective ties to December’s winter solstice, and the vast array of celebrations that herald the death and regeneration of the sun? This is not to even neglect the implication on some very non-Christian spheres of history collecting occultist and illuminist traditions of Osiris, Usirus, Asar, Aser, Ausar, Ausir, Wesir, Usir, Usire or Ausare. This motley collection of pronunciations and iterations that have led us into the belief in cycles of life, death, and supposed resurrection through the reoccurring memes of dying god, rising son, and universal mother figure. Early Christianity prostituted the truths of Yeshua Ha Machiach, Iesus Christos, our Lord Jesus the Christ for peace with the establishment and Saturnalian revelry. Now we rightly question tradition, motivation, and direction. Do we know, or want to know, more? Are we now stymied?

Consider all the traditions of men and of spirits that we now question… so innocently introduced into the wondrous consciousness of a child: holiday gift giving, wreaths, yule logs, mistletoe, Christmas trees… all elements with a past. Does the Bible even speak to this, God’s passions inflamed against even the participation? The case, though not crystal, is compelling. Now, will we consider the dangers of cauterizing this open wound with the opposing imposition of anti-revelry in general… anti-merriment in practice? Where does that leave us? What does your heart say?

Do we turn our backs on it all, or “claim it for Christ”? Is Jesus the “reason for the season”, or is it a confirmed square block that we’ve insisted on wedging into the round hole of society? Do we concede or fight, or is it a red herring? North American Christianity ignores the herring as even a possibility… camps are fortified and sides are chosen… every television commercial omitting Christ another brick in the wall. Every “seasons greetings” is a calliper used to divide. Somewhere, another soul laughs at our confusion and mocks our naïve floundering.

So Merry Christmas I say to you all today. This is not “Merry Christmas” in any commercialized sense, nor do I offer it as a tool for division. I do not say “Merry Christmas” because it is political, and do not revel in the possibility of its use as a tool for polarization.

I say Merry Christmas to you in the same sense as I would have said it when I was a child, before I conceived of commercialism. I say it now as I meant it before I cared about what I was about to unwrap in the early hours of Christmas morning… uniformed in pajamas with no socks. I say it not for the magic that surrounded the Christmas season in my youth, but from the bottom of the heart of the boy that I was… in all innocence and all contriteness. I say Merry Christmas from the right and from the left, from the sinner and from the saint, and from a place that Jesus would gladly describe as “coming unto one as a child”… for then, and only then, can you conceive of the love of the Father given so freely through our being as a sacrificial act of the Holy Spirit through the broken vessel known as man. In the spirit of our Lord and savior, Jesus Christ… I offer my heart’s desire, and fulfillment of Christ’s stated commandments, set for emulation. As cliché an idiom as it is: Merry Christmas and Peace on Earth, Goodwill to men. Love to you all.

The Frank and Chris Show – Episode 81

No system of economics or governance is bound to any stipulation encouraging it to act in the best interests of a transcendent God. This is especially true of the God of the Bible, what, with his annoying propensity towards allowing men the gift of self determination… the utterly misguided faith placed upon such a creature as man… so quick to show his independence from the supposed tyranny of an archon of arrogance, that he chooses the path of most rebellion-laden revelry. In short, the system of man is a misguided system. Given that we’ve unwittingly, and subsequently, handed the keys of our subsistence to the king of the air, it is not even a stretch of credulity to consider it the “beast system”.

As such, be it capitalist or communist, democratic or socialist, how do we suppose that a societal push to one extreme of, say, the right or left, can ever encapsulate all that is wrong in any one governmental administration? To purport that the current U.S. interests in power are attempting a shift in policy towards the socialist side may, indeed, simply be fact. A values assessment is much more difficult to grapple with. What could one possibly mean? Consider this one example, however, that is currently the topic de jour amongst conservatives:

“Allowing for the socialization of medicine, through the policy-making of this administration, normalizes the seizure of our wealth for collectivist purposes. It is our duty to provide a way and means for those unable to provide for themselves, and it should not be accomplished through the auspices of a governmental agency.”

The first point is quite true, to be certain. A political shift towards socialism is nothing short of a centralization of power… a co-opting of possession. The second point, by contrast, is a value-based assertion. Should we consider that a man alone can, and will, seek the improvement of circumstances around his less fortunate brother or brothers? Can the “individual” affect change with greater aptitude than the “community”? Perhaps. The unspoken appeal here is to those who may consider that an opposing system can, indeed, provide for a better resolution to the continuing problem of “those who are unable to provide for themselves”. This message seems to reach a greater percentage of the Christians at large, who should probably know better than to capitulate. Which system among us is impervious to the deficiencies of the fallen state of the human psyche? Which method, conceived by man, is strong enough to stand against the goings on in the heavenly realms? Which way of man is not already succumbed to the principalities that lead us in the opposing direction to the throne of God? The following is an intended embellishment of our situation, provided for dramatic effect:

Why We Will Never Actually Save our Brother Through the Works of Any System

Imagine that our society is like a vast expanse of swimming pool, at least 15-feet deep. Then imagine a myriad of cages, each three feet by three feet by 15 feet; every cage against the next. There is cage upon cage; individually filled with one specimen of mankind… every type and every creed. If you slowly fill this pool with water, the natural urge of each man shall be, invariably, to escape through the opening located at the top of said cage, thus avoiding the prospects of a watery grave. Imagine you stand at the bottom of your respective cage. But now, consider the square-shaped metal grate that is located exactly one foot above your own head. Next, feel the slow but deliberate churning of liquid between your toes as it deliciously inches its way through each digit, and then over every hair on your foot. Welcome to our society.

Your saving grace in the before mentioned predicament is this: with work, you can slowly budge the stubborn, but still moveable, metal grate above your head. The unfortunate news, however, is that your buying power, or ability to move the confines of your predicament towards freedom, is at odds with inflation. In short, the water is more than likely to infiltrate your comfort zone at a rate greater than your ability to extricate yourself through concerted effort. Instinct tells you to push up on the instrument of your immediate discomfort, and push you do… for a time you push with all your might. One will quickly find his limits.

Through happenstance, and the peace-inducing breaths you take after managing the working equivalent of six inches of usable breathing space, you glance at your brother in the cage next to yours. He is clearly not as successful as you are in the game of life. Your judgment call on this wavering brother allows a rough count of around nine inches difference between the height of your breathing room and his. What is your first thought? Honestly?

“Thank God I’m not him! I must be doing well! If anyone is going to perish this day, it is more likely he than I”.

Through shame or through compassion, you again look at your brethren. His eyes fix upon yours, and you see the desperation… the short gasps and the occasional drop of his sightline to the rising waters below. You recognize immediately that his hope is failing him, and his will is succumbing to glassy stare of abject resignation. Perhaps without hesitation, you reach your arm clumsily through the entanglement of metal and space, fighting the section of cage operating as obstacle overtop of obstacle, using pure will to ignore the immediacy of your own situation. Your arm muscles stretch in various places and to differing degrees as your remaining willpower ignites, within your members, the last remaining momentum to shove your partner’s topping metal grate the grand distance of about an inch… perhaps two. The water has risen. Much of the advantage you had afforded yourself has dissipated in the attempt to aid another. You have successfully carried your brother and yourself, though the words, “overt victory”, seem hollow to the ear.

Thus begins a caricature of the society we find ourselves tethered unto. Whether it is, by choice or by health – God willing – that you may be afforded the ability to assess if your minimal efforts towards freedom are required, or maximum and undivided attention, is for time and practice to tell. Some may attempt more effort for the luxury of peace of mind. Some only ask, or can give, the smallest of measures. Where we, in western society, reside, it is an embarrassment of riches, indeed. Some rest comfortably upon devices, which float, never more than a pinkie toe shall test the temperature of the principle cause of other men’s sorrows. From this height some even mock the exasperation and macabre dance, half in, and half out, of the waters. All limbs are aflutter with twisting and turning, telling stories of their own. Those upon their perch never chance to think of the metal grate that so easily moves for them today. When it reaches the measure of height that the cage will provide, will this 15-foot limit end with the clanking of a metal grate flying loose from it’s bindings – freedom at last, or will it freeze in it’s place – locked once and for all against four walls? Imagine the expression of the rider as his carriage meets the very end his travels never once prepared him for.

This is a system developed by man, and inspired by spirit. It is a fallen state of affairs, as are they all… for the alternative we’ve invented to the trappings of before, is, instead, a pool where we’ve abdicated the power we had one time to wield as free choice. Now within our metals cages, we are obliged, by force, to consider the cage beside our own. You will lift the burden of the next, their grate and their livelihood firmly in your hand. In turn, the other does the same on your behalf, and you pray that it is a load they will be willing to carry faithfully. Balancing confidently upon the tops of the cages, are the men who are more “equal” than you are considered to be. Given sufficient time, and grumbling from below, they will, one day, carry the rod.

Thank God, then, and those faithful to his call. For they exert on another’s behalf not because of expected return. They do it not for the gratitude of the aided. They are not prompted by threat or coercion. They continue without fear for themselves, for it is as if they apply the pressure as is required to their own grate above, but still have room and time to help another. On more than one occasion, I would even be tempted to swear that the swells and influx of water seem to even time themselves to the efforts of the faithful. It does not strike me as reactionary response to a respite in tide, however, because I have, myself, witnessed the faithful begin their work anew… unaware that the flow of water was impeded until their efforts had already begun. God’s way works when the waters are low. His way works when the waters are high. It works when it is my choice to help, and it works when the guard stands above me, rod in hand, obliging me to carry the weight of another. I cannot put my loyalty behind the system of cages. In truth, all things considered, I’d rather have Him.

I’d hesitate for at least a moment… before I identified myself, unwaveringly, with a system of any sort that imperfect man has devised.