Before I start this, I just want to say "thanks" to everyone that comes here.  You guys are really the best.  I appreciate EVERY comment and thank you for taking your time to share them.  If you are a blogger yourself you probably know how much it means have comments.  I don't always have time to respond to them and some don't seem to need a response, but I read every one with great interest.  I am honored when people feel they can comment, even though they don't echo my thoughts and feelings.  That is really awesome to me.  Thanks to all of you.

J

The custom of making New Years resolutions started 4000 years ago in Babylon and people have been breaking them ever since.  Okay, here they come:

1. I Resolve NEVER to pet-sit again as long as I live.
2. I Resolve to read the Bible all the way through.  Our church gives out BREAD (Bible Reading Enriches Any Day) charts that go between the Old and New Testaments.  I have read it through a couple of times before but what usually happens is I get sidetracked on studying something out and forget about where I was at, get discouraged and give up.
3. I Resolve to try to update these blogs at least once or twice a week, even if I have nothing to say.  (Oh, yeah Herb, how is that any different?)
4. I Resolve to update my blogroll and links and keep them that way.
5. I Resolve to finish a story and submit it somewhere.
6. I Resolve to find a place to join like http://www.fictionpress.com/ or http://www.fanfiction.net/ or http://www.fanstory.com/.  It may be the last one because that is the on that Writer's Digest suggests.
7. I Resolve to try to love a liberal.
8. I Resolve to try to get my weight down to "overweight."
9. I Resolve to enter something in some writing contest somewhere.
10. I Resolve to make more long-distance calls to friends and family.
11. Since you are reading this on the 2nd you can tell I need to put "Stop Procrastinating" on this list, and maybe I will add it next year.

I think that's plenty to try to accomplish in one year.

Remember, The Good Book says:  "For if any be a hearer of the word, and not a doer, he is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass: For he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was."

I had started this entry on 12/9 when our town was supposed to be visited by Fred Phelps and I listened to a radio station reporter who had interviewed him and his followers.  I wonder how many will bother to read past the first paragraph though?  Oh well.  I have re-written it until my fingers bleed and now you can read it.

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Preachers of “tolerance” amaze me.  They expect me to be tolerant of their views and lifestyle, but when does it ever become their responsibility to extend the same courtesy to me?  One blog I read all the time made reference to a new movie about a couple of gay cowboys and when someone made a comment that this was wrong, another person immediately responded that this person was a homophobe because they said this.  Heterophobic comments like that annoy me.  I weary of the presumptuous nature of the same people who preach we should accept everyone not accepting me because I think homosexuality is a sin against God and Nature.  It is a sin of lust and has become a cause célèbre that is driven by lust and greed and power.  I suppose that classifies me as a homophobe.  “Who are you to judge my lifestyle?” they say.  Well, who are you to judge mine?  I don’t have to judge you and I don’t intend on judging you.  There is an almighty God that will judge you according to the 66 books he left us.  He will judge me, also.

From the people I know and have talked to about the issue, it is small, vocal, extremist groups that are behind much of what we see as the “Gay Rights Movement.”  They are on the extreme left. I have read newspaper accounts and seen photographs of groups that marched in the halls of Congress while they were ratifying the Boy Scouts charter chanting, “Over 8 is too late!” with pictures on their signs that I will not describe here.  Should I accept that these people speak for gay men everywhere or should I think that this is some sort of lunatic fringe with crazy, harmful, ideals that include child abuse?

I mention this radical movement for a reason, a reason which ends up giving me great pride to live in a country where I can say these things freely.  You can say what you want, as well.  We can have a thoughtful, well-reasoned debate or a name-calling shouting match.  I love America.  I love this country and its constitution and even though I do not agree with you, you can love this country as much as I do.  And that puts us both in the same category.

According to a preacher from Kansas we are both going to burn in hell for eternity along with every veteran that ever fought in any war since WWII.  This is because, according to this man, God hates America.  You see, our town was going to be graced once again by the presence of the REVEREND (you have to imagine my saying the word “reverend” with pompous-sounding sarcasm.) Fred Phelps.  But he didn’t show up this time.  He was going to protest the formation of a gay club in a local public high school.  How this is his business escapes me since he is from the Westborough Baptist Church in Kansas, but he was going to be here to protest, just the same, but at the last minute he found something he’d rather be doing, which I will explain in a moment.

Perhaps you are not familiar with the work of the rabid REVEREND Phelps and his group.  They are a rabid anti-homosexual group.  The GOOD REVEREND and his followers are the folks that protested at the funeral of the young man that was murdered in Wyoming.  The REVEREND Phelps and company went to the young man’s funeral, and held up signs saying, “Your son was a faggot and now he’s burning.”  For those who may not have heard of this incident, a young man was beaten to death in Wyoming because he was gay.  The REVEREND and his CHURCH went to the funeral to tell the boy’s mother that her son was in hell and it was her fault.

The REVEREND Phelps is past and beyond the extreme right, just as the “North American Man Boy Love Association,” with the slogan “Over 8 is too late,” AKA, NAMBLA, is past and beyond the furthest left of the left-wing.  He does not represent the majority of right-wingers and Christians any more than the other group does gay people.  Anyway, he and his entourage did not show up here this time.  Rather than come here and protest the school and school district, they decided to focus on their newer and more important mission.

According to the spokesperson that a local radio reporter talked to, their new mission is to go to the funerals and memorial services of soldiers who have died in Iraq (or any war from WWII forward), not soldiers who were known to be gay mind you, just any funeral of any soldier they hear about and can get to, and picket it.  It isn’t really a protest as much as they want their message to be heard.

Carter, James (If you guys are somewhere where you can read this), any veteran including me, according to the REVEREND Phelps, if you or one of your soldiers gets killed in Iraq, or anywhere else, you have an automatic place in Hell because you were defending a nation that has allowed the gay movement.  Not only do you have a hot-seat reserved, they will come to your funeral and march with picket signs telling everyone, including your grieving relatives.

I guess the fact that you were unseating a tyrant possibly as evil as Hitler and fighting for Democracy and the rights of people to speak openly, even people like them, extreme extremists, is lost on them.  The fact that their ability to criticize the government or anyone else, has been preserved by our strong military people is, apparently, not important.  Strong military people like those who served in WWII are, according to the GOOD REVEREND, evil, because “they allowed all this to start on their watch.”  The generation that is commonly known as “The Greatest Generation,” who defeated and defended us against one of the most hateful murderers of all time, was bad and should have been defeated.

A 19 year old girl from the Westborough Baptist Church, standing on an American flag while her fellow protester wiped his nose on another flag, told the radio reporter all of this the last time they were here to protest.  Hmm, didn’t they wonder why they didn’t have to wear their brown shirts and “Nazi Youth” pins?  How could they be allowed to treat the national flag so disrespectfully and speak out against the government that way?  Oh, because the good guys won.  At least I thought it was the good guys.

Yes, the Greatest Generation, the veterans of WWII are all burning in hell before us.

I guess I have my place there too because I think the REVEREND Phelps and his lot are despicable and hateful.  Their number one priority is picketing funerals.  You know, I am afraid that if one of these bums ever showed up at a funeral I was at, I probably wouldn’t be a very good example of a Christian and Santy might not bring me nuttin’ fer Christmas.

I don’t have the time or energy to go into the ideals of compassion and love, healing and forgiveness, of righteousness, peace and Joy in the Holy Ghost and how the kingdom of God is supposed to be spread, in this entry.  The fact is I probably don’t know all that I should about it.  But I do know that if the GOOD REVEREND really is doing things that are pleasing to God, I have to re-think a lot of things.  I do not think the GOOD REVEREND is pleasing God by his antics.  I do not think he is fulfilling the Great Commission that Christ left for his church because he is not converting anyone by his self-aggrandizement (which is really all it turns out to be, in my opinion).  He is doing the opposite.

I am proud of Colorado Springs and the CSPD however, because whenever these people come here, they always ensure, even if they personally find their teachings distasteful, that their rights are protected, as well as the rights of the protestors that in turn come out to protest them.  They work hard to protect the rights of everyone and are, in my unlearned opinion, one of the finest police forces in the country.  Not only is Colorado Springs one of the most generous communities, we are, by far and away, one of the most intelligent and tolerant.  And we are smart enough to figure out for ourselves what we believe when we hear the GOOD REVEREND preach.  We realize he has the right to preach what he believes in his supposed heart.

The Good Book says, “Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.” And “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.”

I haven't been around the blogsphere visiting because I didn't even get on the computer on Sunday...I should say I didn't get on the Internet.  Since I got the game I wanted, Civilization IV (link might be a long load for dial-ups, I am not sure) I have been playing it and playing it and playing it.  They are almost ready to send me to Civanon already.  Hahaha.  But, I am going to trule the world!!!!!  Buahahahahaha!  Civ IV is what's called a turn-based strategy game and I have loved playing it from the beginning.  Troy spent way too much money on me for it, but it is so cool.  It doesn't play one the laptop, unfortunately, so I guess I will still blog.  (Joke there, a joke.  Did you think you oculd be rid of me that easily?)

Christmas was pretty wonderful.  I didn't get a lot of pics of Savannah since we were all too busy watching her figure out what the paper was for.  I might have a few to post, though.

Anyway, Hope everyone's everything went good and not every which way.

Remember, the Good Book says, "Give thanks in all things..."

I enjoy sleight-of-hand/illusion/trickery or what is sometimes called “parlor magic.”  I love to watch a GOOD illusionist, a magician’s magician, who can make me say, “Whoa!  That’s cool.  Where DID that rabbit come from.”  Oh, I know there are now websites that can tell you how everything was done, but I don’t read ‘em unless I would want to learn to do them.

I want to share a story I heard from my Grandfather on my mother’s side many years ago.  This is the grandfather whose only plumbing was hot and cold running water in the kitchen sink, who said to me one time, when I had made a disparaging remark about using the outhouse (in the middle of a sub-zero Wisconsin winter), that there must be something wrong with city people because they go to the bathroom in their houses.  He told the story when I was very young, before we joined the religion that didn’t celebrate Christmas and it stuck with me through the years.  Whether it happened to him when he was a young boy or his grandfather told him about it or he did it, I really don’t know.  I am recalling from 40 years ago.  It may have happened during the Depression, but at any rate, it was a time that children were grateful to get any little thing.

What they got one year was a visit from St. Nick.  The poem by Clement Moore having been just freshly read or told, the children were sent to bed upstairs.  Apparently they were at that age where they start to question the existence of Santa Claus.  When you are a child you think that you can stay up all night and never go to sleep, but usually you wind up at least dozing off from time to time.  When they got up and saw the presents under the tree and the stockings filled, they ran outside and sure enough, there were little footprints in the snow and sled tracks across the roof by the chimney.

What he had done was take a cat and throw it on the roof and then took a rope and pulled a sled through the snow up there!  From the ground, to bright little Christmas eyes, you could plainly see that Santa had landed on the roof and where the reindeer had pranced and pawed.

How magical!  Oh, sure, compared to the real story of Christmas it’s just parlor magic, but still, what a thoughtful and caring old magician Grandfather was.

Don’t forget, the Good Book says, “Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem, Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.”

I have noticed that many bloggers are, I don’t know, feelin’ the blues or just somewhat cynical about the Christmas Holiday season.  (Do Jewish people have the same problem with Chanukah?  I don’t know anything about that, except I wonder if the “gimme” spirit gets a hold there, too.  Does Chanukah Claus take attention away from the candles burning without oil?  I don’t know.  Perhaps someone with a clue would comment?)  Anyway, if you are down, I am sorry that you feel that way.

One thing that helps me, along with focusing on the real meaning of the season, is to make and/or keep traditions.    If your family has always had a certain tradition that they have done, find out about it.  If you don’t know of any, go talk to some older folks, even visit a nursing home and listen to “tales of the glories of Christmases long, long ago”.  Take your kids and adopt a grandparent and see if they have something to say that you can adopt as a tradition.

I will tell you plainly that I grew up as a Jehovah’s Witness and did not have any celebrations.  Even so, I can remember being a little child and hearing my grandmother sing “Silent Night” in German.  I still get a lump in my throat every time I hear that song, especially if someone sings it in German.  I can remember…my grandma, my cousins, uncles and aunts…and I was very young.

After 25 years of marriage we have a few traditions that we have sort of made up on our own.  One is that we have always taken the kids to the dollar store and let them pick up little things for each other and their friends.  Dollar stores have gotten to be pretty uptown nowadays and getting kids in on the idea that you will be excited by GIVING something to someone is worthwhile.  Last year one of my little friends, a 6 year old boy who is sort of an adopted nephew, knowing I like Coca-Cola and collect Coca-Cola stuff gave me a Coke glass from the dollar store.  He had thought about something that Uncle Herb might truly like and was thrilled when I was so happy with my present.  I was not only happy with the present, but with his thoughtfulness and let him know that, in my own way.

Another thing we do, if you have looked at the pics mentioned in the previous entry, is have the littlest one (for a while they all had to take turns every year) put the angel on the tree.  You might be able to see in the picture that our ornaments don’t match.  They are almost all gifts, given over the years and as we put them on the tree, we tell the story of where each one came from.

We also have pizza on Christmas day.  Thanksgiving we do all the traditional foods, and then we put out snack trays all season long.   But a number of years back it got to be so late on Christmas Eve and we weren’t going to have company and everybody would just be busy with their presents and other things, so one Christmas Eve we ordered pizza and just ate leftover pizza the next day.  The habit stuck.

One other thing we did years ago that has really helped and I hope you will please allow me to share with you a hint about making the Holidays happy and meaningful this year and in future years as well.  Simply, don’t get swept away in the crass commercialism of the season.  One of the many reasons there is so much depression this time of year is because Mad Ave has convinced Americans that they are bad people if they only buy small gifts they can afford.  I say, tear up, burn or shred your credit cards or at least save them for emergencies.  The idea of gift giving at the holiday is (I have been told) to emulate the Magi who brought gifts to the Christ child.  Those gifts, which have a lot of meaning in themselves, were thoughtful and came from the hearts of the worshippers.

Obviously Santa has to be real.  NORAD has tracked him for the last 50 years and we all know the Government doesn’t lie.  You can ask any Indian.  Actually, the Norad Santa site is a lot of fun.  Even after the kids were old enough to firmly disavow any belief in Santa, we still listened to the radio broadcast that followed his trek.  It was just fun.  Another one is http://quizmas.net.  I just want to help people lighten up a little and have a good time with the holiday.  Just don’t get so carried away that you lose track of what’s important in life.

Remember, the Good Book says, “…lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was.  When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.  Entering the house where the baby and Mary, his mother, were, they threw themselves down before him, worshiping. Then they opened their luggage and presented gifts: gold, frankincense, myrrh.”

Assorted Stuff…

Our Savannah Melody, AKA, "The Miracle Kid," turned 1 year old on November 28^th!  She was 1 pound, 12 ounces, when she was born at somewhere between 25 and 27 weeks.  Now she's over 16 pounds!  I apologize to my out-of-town visitors that I am not good with converting to metric.  Anyway, there are new pics at http://herbthiel.blogdrive.com/galleries along with the pics from last year when she was not much bigger than a Bic pen, with all manner of tubes and wires and bells and whistles hooked up to her.

She has got to be the most beautiful baby that was ever born.  Er, rather, um, ONE OF, the most beautiful babies ever born.  Why, just that big old spontaneous smile that explodes across her face when grampaw says, "Hi Savannah, blblblblbl" is amazing.  We took her out to dinner and there was a little boy there who was around her age.  He just stared and stared at how beautiful she was and finally he said, "Eee-aag-goo-gah-we-wah."  To which she wittily replied by putting her fingers in her mouth and blathering them up and down saying, "buh-bluh-bluh-eeee-eee-blather-blah-bluh!"  All I can say is good thing dad has a shotgun.

There are also pics of our littlest angel putting the angel on top of the tree.

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In other news, that old Cavalry warhorse, my OLD buddy, Staff Sergeant King, referred to by his troops as "The Old Goat" and many other names, has been re-deployed back to the big cat-box again!  I've lost count of how many times he has been over there now.  I probably shouldn't tell this over the Internet, but I think the Army is planning on using Carter's socks as a weapon.  His socks, which are not specifically named in the Geneva Conventions, can easily take out a nest of insurgents.  Throw one of them babies in an enemy bunker and it's better than a grenade.  Seriously, even though the man is a warhorse and a soldier's soldier, he has been over there during both wars and this will be his 3^rd or 4^th time in this war alone.  I know the Army did not issue him a wife and children but in my opinion he has done his fair share.

He follows his orders, however, like a real soldier and acts like a real man about the whole thing, not like some that have made the news.  "Waah, I joined the Army, but I didn't think I'd have to actually go and fight anywhere.  I could get hurt.  My recruiter told me I wouldn't have to go anywhere except to college on Uncle Sam's dime.  Boo-hoo-hoo."  The news ought to follow the career of a guy like this, but he's probably too manly for the media.  If I recall correctly, he was a man 12 years before he was born, making Sledge Hammer just an ordinary guy.

It's a shame he's so ugly, though.

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I am in the church Christmas play as the angel Gabriel and you are all invited.  I suppose I can understand that if you are in Singapore or London, you probably won't be able to make it.  I am enjoying sharing a few lines with my 8 yr old co-star who plays Hark the Herald Angel.  Well, neither of us is the actual star.  Maybe THE Star is the star?  Anyway, it will be at the First Pentecostal Church at Monica & Hancock on Sunday, December 18^th at 10 AM.  It is, of course, a fanciful recreation, based on what we know about the Birth from the Scripture and what we know from history about Roman occupied Israel at the time.  It will be a lot of fun, with a lot of kid's parts in it.  I love watching kids in plays and programs and things; they are the greatest because they are the most sincere.  This would be a good time to remind kids (and adults) what the season is all about.

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I am sad.  I had meant to tell you about this sooner, but, well, it was just so hard to take.  I…I had to trade in the Intrepid.  We needed more room for just the four adults and two teenagers, but then with Savannah and Lizzy's baby on the way, well, it just wasn't practical.  Now we have a '99 Ford Windstar.  Yes, a Ford!  It was easier for Grandma to get in and out of.  It is unequivocally the most annoying car I have ever driven in my life.  Oh, the big things are fine.  For instance the engine has some get-up-and-go.  But it does all manner of annoying things that I guess are supposed to make you feel safer, but really make you feel stupid.  If I go to drive down to the 7-11, less than half a mile away, and I don't wear my seatbelt it makes this atrocious ringing noise that stops for a few minutes and then starts up again.  It is not graceful and looks like a Dodge Grand Caravan, but doesn't give any of the driving pleasure.  Oh, and if you go over 75 mph, it starts with the ringing again!  If you go even 1 or 2 miles over, it starts with this bell that doesn't turn off or reset.  Aaaarrrggghhh!  Anyway, I miss my Intrepid.  Driving the Windstar is just driving.  Except for driving me crazy.  There are other nuisances that I can't recall at the moment, either.  *HEAVY SIGH*

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As I was practicing my lines I got to thinking about the shepherds.  Here are some folks camped out in the mountains and their country has not heard from a prophet of God in over 400 years.  There was one brief moment when they had a righteous leader that they thought might help them, but when he was killed there was no one.  400 years and suddenly a messenger from God appears to them and they were sore afraid.  I love that term, it just means terrified, but it sounds funny.  That's where my last line comes in.  This strange, other-worldly being (Hey!  No comments from the peanut gallery about me and strange, other-worldly beings.) Speaks to them and the first thing he says to them is, "Fear not."  I guess that's probably a good way to greet someone who is terrified of you.  We even do that to animals to calm them, "Don't be afraid."  The angelic messenger then goes on to tell them that they'll find the baby wrapped in barn rags, lying in a feed trough.  They didn't have time to wonder about that because suddenly there was, along with that one angel an innumerable crowd of angels that filled the entire sky with light and song, "Glory to God in the highest and peace on Earth."  My part doesn't call for any singing.  If you come, you won't get to hear me sing and if you have ever heard me sing, you would understand that, too.  Me not singing brings Joy to the World.

Remember, the Good Book says, "There were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, 'fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.' And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.' And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child."

Blogdrive has changed it's WYSIWYG editor and I am just test-driving it right now.    So far it seems to be fairly similar to the old one, but I don't know, it has generated a lot of discussion in the Blogdrive help forums.  I have never understood, however, how people who are getting something free or on-the-cheap, can be so rude and vulgar when asking for help with it.  There is no reason for it. it is ¢¢-less.    But I digress.    You guys will be getting some Christmas pics and Birthday Pics (Yes it has been a year since Savannah was born!) and an update later on.  I just had to play with the new toys.

I can't figure out how to use the currently listening to, etc, yet, though.

Not being a believer in the “Committee of Three” doctrine, AKA “The Trinity,” or good ol’ three-in-one espoused by so many, I feel now is a good time to accurately explain what has gone on in human time and what happened on Christmas day, whenever you personally feel that was.  I celebrate it on December 25^th.  Before I begin, I know that a couple of caveats are in order.

First, many Trinitarians do not really believe in three gods, but have had the Godhead explained to them in this fashion for so long that they feel they MUST defend the Trinity at all costs even though the idea of three people being omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent at the same time is not even logically possible and is scripturally unsound.  The Trinity is a misguided attempt by a Universal church that was solidified in 325 A.D. at the Council of Nicea, resulting in a document called “The Nicean Creed.”

Second, many people have never read the Bible for themselves all the way through, if at all, and therefore are not knowledgeable about what God has to say about himself.  “God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”  This is the actual crux of the matter.  God, the Creator of all things, the Father of light, is an invisible Spirit.  A Holy Spirit.   Scriptures like, “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God is one LORD”, “And the LORD shall be king over all the earth: in that day shall there be one LORD, and his name one.”  How about, “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.  Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even for ever. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will perform this.”?  It is this child’s coming, the child who is also called the Everlasting Father, that I want to tell you about.

“Have we not all one father? hath not one God created us?”  In the beginning God had a plan.  The plan was completely thought out and the Greek word “logos,” which is used in the New Testament Scriptures and translated “Word,” indicates that it was an integral part of His innermost being.  Logos, according to Strong’s, means, “something said (including the thought); by implication a topic (subject of discourse), also reasoning (the mental faculty) or motive; by extension a computation…”  It was a law He made unto Himself that he would enact and carry out by “His own counsel.”

As with any good plan, He made contingencies.  They were needed because this was going to include beings created in His own image that could choose for themselves what they wanted to do.  It would even be possible for them to make wrong choices.   Having the idea laid out completely in His mind, the plan was set and completed.  The universe was created by the Word of God.  He spoke and created everything.  The only thing He did not just speak into existence was man.  He took clay from the ground of the Earth and sculpted Adam.  Then the breath of God himself breathed life into the creature and “Man became a living soul.”  A conscious, sentient being with the capability to make decisions, similar to the animals in that he had a body of flesh, similar to the angels in that he had a spirit, different from both because he did not have to listen to either flesh or spirit.  He was free to do whatever he wanted.  His mate was created in a similarly unusual way.  Taken neither from a foot-bone to be a servant nor from a skull-bone to be a master and not created separately again from the clay but rather taken from the flesh and bone that covered the man’s heart and vital organs, a rib, she also was endowed with this decision-making capability called “The Soul.”  “Bone of my Bones, Flesh of my Flesh, she shall be called Woman.”

He placed the pair in a garden and they lived a perfect life and should have lived happily ever after.  Adam had received one commandment from God, which he passed on to Eve.  They were tempted and enticed by the commonest temptations that have plagued man for 6000 years, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life.  Thus Adam sinned and by his sin, death entered into the world.  Work became the curse of man, pain in childbirth became the curse of woman and slithering on his belly in the dust became the curse of the serpent.  Just as when we make a rule for our children and they have to suffer the consequences if they don’t follow it (which is hard for us to do sometimes.  Sometimes it’s better not to make a rule if you are just going to cave in to feeling sorry for having to enforce it, but that’s for a different day.)  So God had to separate Himself from man.  “by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned”

A blood sacrifice was made and God gave long coats of animal skins to them for a covering and they were banished from the garden.  The blood of animals could not pay for what man had done, however, but did allow for the rolling ahead of people’s sins to the next year.  Some animals and items were acceptable to God for such a sacrifice from Cain and Abel’s time, through Noah, to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and finally through Moses, who spoke with God and received direct and exact instructions for the carrying out of sacrifices.  Throughout the Mosaic Law there is a recurring theme that the sacrifice must be one of only certain types of animals and must be the best, most perfect specimen that the person offering the sacrifice could find.  But no lamb, no matter how perfect, no scapegoat, no matter how pure, no ox, no matter how fine, could really pay for what Adam had done, but they could buy time.  Rolling on year after year.

The only way to redeem (buy back) mankind and reinstate the communion with God would be by an ultimate sacrifice.  The LORD had not required his people to sacrifice their children because there was not anyone that was born perfectly righteous and holy.  To pay the price would require something totally different.  As Abraham had said to Isaac, God would provide himself a lamb.  “Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.”  The virgin could conceive because the power of the Most High God created within her an egg that was fertilized by his Spirit and not the seed of Adam.  This nonviable tissue mass, er, this embryo was both God and man at the same time.  The almighty, omnipresent, omniscient and invisible God came and lived among his creation as one of them.  By being born without the seed of sin, he would have the opportunity to live his life as a man without sin and thus be able to sacrifice himself on behalf of mankind by his own choice.  As God, he would be able to heal the sick and raise the dead, even raising Himself after three days.  He had to live perfectly as a human being and do the will of God completely.  You cannot look at God, He is invisible, but you can see Him in the face of His son, Jesus Christ, who is the “express image of His glory.”  “Express image” here is the Greek word, “charakter,” a graver (the tool or the person), that is, (by implication) engraving ([“character”], the figure stamped, that is, an exact copy or [figuratively] representation):—express image.

So, God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.  He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not…And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth.

The WORD, the logos, the thought/idea/computation/plan/motivation came and suffered every temptation that man can suffer, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life.  Born to a poor, insignificant family, even though both Mother and Stepfather were direct-line descendents of King David, in a stable, which was little more than a cave behind the inn, wrapped in barn rags and laid in the trough the oxen ate from.  His family was caused to flee to Egypt to escape a killer, and they returned to their little village where he grew up, always resisting temptation, knowing it was all up to him.  As a man, he prayed often, many times all night long and, having subdued his flesh to the Spirit, did many mighty and compassionate works as God, healing and saving and forgiving.  Then, this innocent man gave his life as the supreme sacrifice, fulfilling all that was needed and taking on every sin that could ever be conceived.  Since God cannot sin and cannot abide sin, this innocent man, who was God, was forsaken in his hour of need to die alone, hanging between heaven and earth.  When he cried out with a loud voice, “It is finished!” as the priests under the Mosaic Law did when the sacrifice was completely consumed, the veil in the temple, which had kept people from entering the presence of God, was ripped from top to bottom as the sacrifice was completed.

Death could not hold him, however, since he had no sin and now we can enter into the presence of almighty God, who came and lived among us as a man.  “For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus…”  “Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved.”  He promised his followers then, “Even the Spirit of truth; whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you.”  His Ghost (the spirit of a dead person that has come back) returned on the day of Pentecost and, since the price had been paid for man’s redemption, was able to fill anyone that wanted it.  “Beloved, now are we the sons of God…” except that we are not perfect, but purchased.

The Good Book says (and I have to memorize this because I am going to be the angel…stop laughing…it’s acting…I am going to be the angel in our Christmas program, Dec 18 at 10 am), “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”

Well, first of all, I have to say that I am a little disappointed in the response to the Red Kettle group.  No donations and no one joining.  I guess I’ll e-mail each one individually and remind you again about it.  I would love to see some of the higher-traffic blogs.  *sigh*

Why do people get so mad about a little baby who was born in a barn and has a birthday celebration in a country that has his Dad’s name on their money and He can’t be included in the festivities!  No matter what your belief system is, if you celebrate Christmas at all, then you have to acknowledge that, for whatever reason, the kid that was born in the barn was some kind of a big deal.  Whether you only relegate him to the status of an unusual philosopher or know that the fact is the very Creator of the universe came to earth and dwelt among us as both God and man, how do you dare to think that you can have a parade in his celebration and exclude a float that depicts the circumstances of his birth?

I hadn’t planned on going off on this tangent just yet, but I get really frustrated with our politically correct society.  I don’t remember if I ever told you guys this, but I grew up in a religion that doesn’t celebrate any holidays, especially birthdays and Christmas.  I can go on and on explaining how the Judean winters are too cold in December and how the yule log and the Christmas tree are pagan symbols and, to hear them tell it, idols.  I was 8 years old when I told my 3 year old brother about how we had just learned about all this and that next year we weren’t going to have a Christmas tree and there wasn’t no Santa and all so I suppose that someone will say, and I am somewhat inclined to agree that it is true, that now I overcompensate for that as an adult.  I am sure that’s true.  I am also sure of a few other things since God saved me.

Here’s the deal.  Here is how I have dealt with the subject of Christmas over the years.  First of all, ever since I came to Colorado Springs in 1988 and we decided that we were going to get back in church, we have attended regularly and taken our kids, who were 5 and 2 at the time, to Sunday School.  Children are best taught by you, by your example, what your religion is all about and how it is lived.  This became important in dealing with the “Santa issue.”  See, I have always felt that it is wrong for parents to lie to their children, but yet there is something so magical and fun about the whole thing that it is hard not to say something.

What I did about it was what ill-advised people, often without children of their own (The world is full of unmarried marriage counselors, isn’t it?) have said I should do about religion and that is to let them figure it out on their own.  I figured it was safer to do that with the Santa Claus sect than with the truth so I decided to let them figure out for themselves what they believed.  Over the years I guess that if I taught them anything about him, the teaching would probably be along the same lines as in “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.”  “Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn?  Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there.”  The CBC interviewed Virginia when she was a 74 year old grandmother.  But you see, just because I didn’t teach them about Santa doesn’t mean they didn’t develop their own belief system over time.  This was punctuated by their questions to me and my answering as truthfully as I could.  As they grew older, it was easier and easier to have conversations like, “How does Santa see you when you’re sleeping?”  “Well, is there anybody who knows everything and can see everything that we do?” “God.” “Is Santa Claus God?”  “No.”  Then I would just leave it sort of up in the air.  Later on we would do our nightly Bible reading as a family, which was something we used to try to do all the time, and somehow the topic of omniscience would come up.  See, we would read the Bible out loud as a family every evening we could, and talk about what we believed and actively worked on teaching them about that.

So, over time, we learned that it was Jesus’ birthday party and that, while Nicholas had been a nice man that had tried to do some good things, he didn’t die for our sins and heal and save people.  Santa became something more of an icon, except…well, strange things still happened.  There were years that we had no plans to have Christmas and presents, but somehow, Christmas morning, there they were anyway.  One year was truly bleak.  We really were not going to have much when, Christmas morning, there was a knock on the door and out front of the house were a couple of cars and a van and a pickup truck and these people, who I had never seen before and have never seen since, started carrying packages and boxes of food and wheeling in bikes and things, and when I asked them who they were and what group sent them, they just said they were some of Santa’s helpers.  “Santa sent us.”  That was maybe in 1992 or 3, I don’t remember for sure and Margaret is still sleeping.  How did these people know our situation?  Who had sent them?

That was when my son and I began developing our conspiracy theory that, even though there might not have been a 600 year old man living at the North Pole who could traverse the world faster than Superman, was it not possible that he had some descendant or descendants that thought someone should carry on the good works he had started?  Was there a club of some sort that you could become a member of and did it spread all over, networking around the world amongst adults and certain children?  Santa could not know everything, but, if your neighbor was one of his helpers, he could report back to Santa or, if your dad was the head of the local secret chapter of the club, he might get the report…Santa’s helpers could be…ANYONE!  Man or woman or boy or girl, they might know…

Another thing we did and still do is we take turns going shopping for other people in the family.  That way everyone gets to get in on some of the secrets of who’s getting what, and helping make the day special and full of surprises because even to this day there are presents that come that nobody really knows where they came from.  Well, almost nobody.

We always have fun at the dollar store, too.  When they were young, we would give them money and let them pick things out for siblings, relatives and friends.  Some dollar stores offer very nice merchandise for a buck and priceless gifts.  My little quasi-nephew, Christopher bought me a Coca-Cola glass last year because he knows I would like that.  He got the message of what giving a present to someone is really all about!  You know, folks, the American celebration of Christmas is so crassly commercial and out of control that “All I want for Christmas is more, more, more…” isn’t just a novelty song anymore.  And while we hear, even on the Christian radio station, songs about Santa and reindeer, let’s try to remember the shivering baby born in a barn.

Remember, the good book says, “I ain’t gettin’ nuttin’ for Christmas, mommy and daddy are mad, I ain’t gettin’ nuttin’ for Christmas, ‘cuz I ain’t been nuttin’ but bad.”

P.S.

I believe the story of Chanukah is true, too, that God kept their lamp burning without oil for 8 days.