Are We There Yet?
Stories
Contents
“Are We There Yet?” by C. David McKirachan
“Mary — A Child Prodigy?” by Frank Ramirez
Are We There Yet?
by C. David McKirachan
James 5:7-10
Did you ever wonder where they get the kids for the TV ads, you know the ones that are always smiling, and sitting next to parents on the couch, or at the table? Maybe your kids are like that. Maybe there are kids like that somewhere. But mine… well let’s say they were more likely to be involved in other activities.
They say that one sure test of intelligence is the ability of an individual to display delayed gratification, to wait for whatever it is they are looking forward to. So much for the intelligence of the human race, at least most of the ones I’ve come in contact with.
So, put those two realities together, kids’ inability to sit still and our lack of delayed gratification, and you’ve got to wonder how anybody ever manages to make it to Christmas.
The season of Advent is rarely celebrated, in our churches or in our homes. We get the Christmas trees up as soon as possible. Get our manger scenes, complete with babies in the manger (A lot of them don’t give you choice. The baby and the manger are attached.). We’re singing Christmas carols as soon as the turkey’s off the table. The thundering Niagara of the season hits the streets after Halloween and we move into the passing lane with almost everyone else, hurrying to get to the magic day. So much for delayed gratification. So much for sitting around with the kids, soaking in the season.
I never liked James’ epistle. Luther called it the letter of straw. Well, grace and discipline are hard to mix. And Luther was big on grace. But I think we need to work on ourselves, if we are to hold up against the pushes and pulls that are working to move us off center, off the road, you get the drift.
Patience is one of those disciplines. And Advent is a season that offers us a slice of time that can enrich our lives of faith and remind us of the depth of grace offered to us. That’s why Advent’s there. It lifts up our need with the reminders from the prophets, from John the Baptist’s fierce demands, with the minor keys of ‘O Come O Come Emmanuel,’ and other ‘creepy’ chants and hymns.
Our culture prefers instant, convenient, and efficient stories. One time someone asked me why I write stories. ‘Anything that isn’t a fact-based account is useless.’ I almost rose to the bait and got into it with them. But prejudice is kind of like sippin’ whiskey. While someone’s under its influence it’s hard to have a conversation, let alone a debate. And the inertia of our culture has created an environment that drags us away from contemplation, conversation, and even prayer. If need is something to be instantly satisfied, how can we discover our own complicity in the need of the world? How can we be reminded of our call to engage our gifts and take responsibility for our own sin and the need of others or the planet that needs help?
Christmas is a glory. But when we consider the mother and child, are we willing to let them remind us of the mothers and children who are refugees right here and right now? When we sing of silent nights, are we willing to remember families living in fear, caught in cross fires between police and gangs in our own cities?
The glory of Christmas does not come from our organization or preparation. It comes because the incredible gift of God’s vulnerability creeps into the world that ‘receives him not.’ Such a tender gift is not deserved or expected. Which is why it is such a glory, such a miracle.
It cannot be hurried, or fit into reasonable categories. It is likely to be drowned in bee bop versions of carols. Only we, in our defiance of the standards that drive us like whips can allow it to creep through our lives, ‘How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is given.’ It’s not something we can add to our list. It’s something we must take time and energy, patience and discipline to develop as we follow the winding road toward Christmas.
Anybody that knows me will tell you I’m a Christmas freak. And my prayer to all of you is that you ‘rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing.’ They do you know. Oh, I forgot, that’s a story.
God bless us everyone.
* * *
Mary — A Child Prodigy?
by Frank Ramirez
Luke 1:46b-55
"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…(Luke 1:46-47).”
Say what you want — that he was only a country boy, that he wasn’t a scholar but only a pastor, or that he didn’t come from good family — but one thing is certain — John Bois (1562-1644) was a child prodigy.
At the age of six he could read the Old Testament in Hebrew, and it is said his Hebrew handwriting was elegant. By the age of thirteen he had mastered Classical and New Testament Greek (which are two very different things). A year later he entered St. John’s College, where he continued to apply himself, beginning study before dawn and continuing long after it was dark. In one month’s time, he had mastered three year’s work in Greek. One of the great scholars of the age, Andrew Downes, challenged him with more and more difficult work and John Bois proved up to it.
When it was time for his senior exams, Bois came down with smallpox, a potentially fatal disease, but he wrapped himself up with a blanket and despite a raging fever won top honors, then took up teaching at the college.
But his father was a pastor, and boys followed in their father’s footsteps, pastoring and teaching. In 1591, he was offered a larger salary if he would move to another congregation, along with the condition that he marry the rector’s daughter. The two met, decided they could get along, and for a time this seemed to put an end to any possibility to an academic career. He did however become a tutor to not only his own children, but for many others as well.
Then, in 1603 King James decided there ought to be a new translation of the Scriptures to be read aloud in churches. His reasoning was not so much because a new translation was needed, but because the highly popular Geneva Bible included marginal notes, among which were some that suggested that God installed kings and God could remove kings. This didn’t suit King James’ idea of the divine right of kings, so the new translation was commissioned, six committees were formed, and of course John Bois was appointed as one of the translators, serving with his former mentor Downes.
This despite the fact that some claimed “they needed no help from the country,” reflecting their prejudice against his country origins, lack of academic title, and choice to be a pastor instead of an academic.
A few years later Bois was appointed to the final committee which prepared the final revisions of what was to become known as the Authorized, or King James, Version of the scriptures. Some decades ago some of his meticulous notes came to light. They show that under his direction a group read aloud the translation verse by verse and first discussed and occasionally made changes based on both biblical integrity and readability. Thanks to his work, along with many others, the translation that was published in 1611 became not only a biblical treasure, but a literary classic.
Bois was a great scholar, a great pastor, and a loving husband (despite the fact his wife wasted so much money that his great collection of books was sold out from under him). In some ways he was way ahead of his time when it came to health. He was fastidious, careful about what he ate, fasted often, took unusual care of his teeth for his age (and died with most of them in his head), and lived to the ripe old age of 82, very respectable in that era.
But he was also a bit of a hypochondriac, or at least very suggestible. It is said that when he took it in his head to become a doctor and purchased books to teach himself the subject, he eventually abandoned the project because “whatsoever disease he read of, he was troubled with the same himself.”
We can see that he inherited his faith and his love of scripture from his words written on the flyleaf of his mother’s copy of the Book of Common Prayer: “This was my mother’s book, my good mother’s book. …She had read the Bible over twelve times, and the Book of Martyrs twice; besides other books, a few.”
At the start of this story we mentioned that John Bois was a child prodigy and that helped lead to a life of faith, prayer, and service to God’s Word. How many of us think of Mary, the mother of Jesus, as a child prodigy? Bear in mind that most people believe that young women married after they began puberty, and that Mary was likely a young teen when she became engaged to Joseph and was pregnant through the Holy Spirit. In today’s scripture passage, she demonstrates that whether or not she received any formal training (and in her era that was unlikely) she was definitely paying attention during synagogue service, for on her visit to her cousin Elizabeth after the visit from the Angel Gabriel, Mary responds with a poem of praise we call the Magnificat, where she evidently effortlessly wove echoes from many different Scriptures, including:
*****************************************
StoryShare, December 15, 2019 issue.
Copyright 2019 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
“Are We There Yet?” by C. David McKirachan
“Mary — A Child Prodigy?” by Frank Ramirez
Are We There Yet?
by C. David McKirachan
James 5:7-10
Did you ever wonder where they get the kids for the TV ads, you know the ones that are always smiling, and sitting next to parents on the couch, or at the table? Maybe your kids are like that. Maybe there are kids like that somewhere. But mine… well let’s say they were more likely to be involved in other activities.
They say that one sure test of intelligence is the ability of an individual to display delayed gratification, to wait for whatever it is they are looking forward to. So much for the intelligence of the human race, at least most of the ones I’ve come in contact with.
So, put those two realities together, kids’ inability to sit still and our lack of delayed gratification, and you’ve got to wonder how anybody ever manages to make it to Christmas.
The season of Advent is rarely celebrated, in our churches or in our homes. We get the Christmas trees up as soon as possible. Get our manger scenes, complete with babies in the manger (A lot of them don’t give you choice. The baby and the manger are attached.). We’re singing Christmas carols as soon as the turkey’s off the table. The thundering Niagara of the season hits the streets after Halloween and we move into the passing lane with almost everyone else, hurrying to get to the magic day. So much for delayed gratification. So much for sitting around with the kids, soaking in the season.
I never liked James’ epistle. Luther called it the letter of straw. Well, grace and discipline are hard to mix. And Luther was big on grace. But I think we need to work on ourselves, if we are to hold up against the pushes and pulls that are working to move us off center, off the road, you get the drift.
Patience is one of those disciplines. And Advent is a season that offers us a slice of time that can enrich our lives of faith and remind us of the depth of grace offered to us. That’s why Advent’s there. It lifts up our need with the reminders from the prophets, from John the Baptist’s fierce demands, with the minor keys of ‘O Come O Come Emmanuel,’ and other ‘creepy’ chants and hymns.
Our culture prefers instant, convenient, and efficient stories. One time someone asked me why I write stories. ‘Anything that isn’t a fact-based account is useless.’ I almost rose to the bait and got into it with them. But prejudice is kind of like sippin’ whiskey. While someone’s under its influence it’s hard to have a conversation, let alone a debate. And the inertia of our culture has created an environment that drags us away from contemplation, conversation, and even prayer. If need is something to be instantly satisfied, how can we discover our own complicity in the need of the world? How can we be reminded of our call to engage our gifts and take responsibility for our own sin and the need of others or the planet that needs help?
Christmas is a glory. But when we consider the mother and child, are we willing to let them remind us of the mothers and children who are refugees right here and right now? When we sing of silent nights, are we willing to remember families living in fear, caught in cross fires between police and gangs in our own cities?
The glory of Christmas does not come from our organization or preparation. It comes because the incredible gift of God’s vulnerability creeps into the world that ‘receives him not.’ Such a tender gift is not deserved or expected. Which is why it is such a glory, such a miracle.
It cannot be hurried, or fit into reasonable categories. It is likely to be drowned in bee bop versions of carols. Only we, in our defiance of the standards that drive us like whips can allow it to creep through our lives, ‘How silently, how silently the wondrous gift is given.’ It’s not something we can add to our list. It’s something we must take time and energy, patience and discipline to develop as we follow the winding road toward Christmas.
Anybody that knows me will tell you I’m a Christmas freak. And my prayer to all of you is that you ‘rest beside the weary road, and hear the angels sing.’ They do you know. Oh, I forgot, that’s a story.
God bless us everyone.
* * *
Mary — A Child Prodigy?
by Frank Ramirez
Luke 1:46b-55
"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…(Luke 1:46-47).”
Say what you want — that he was only a country boy, that he wasn’t a scholar but only a pastor, or that he didn’t come from good family — but one thing is certain — John Bois (1562-1644) was a child prodigy.
At the age of six he could read the Old Testament in Hebrew, and it is said his Hebrew handwriting was elegant. By the age of thirteen he had mastered Classical and New Testament Greek (which are two very different things). A year later he entered St. John’s College, where he continued to apply himself, beginning study before dawn and continuing long after it was dark. In one month’s time, he had mastered three year’s work in Greek. One of the great scholars of the age, Andrew Downes, challenged him with more and more difficult work and John Bois proved up to it.
When it was time for his senior exams, Bois came down with smallpox, a potentially fatal disease, but he wrapped himself up with a blanket and despite a raging fever won top honors, then took up teaching at the college.
But his father was a pastor, and boys followed in their father’s footsteps, pastoring and teaching. In 1591, he was offered a larger salary if he would move to another congregation, along with the condition that he marry the rector’s daughter. The two met, decided they could get along, and for a time this seemed to put an end to any possibility to an academic career. He did however become a tutor to not only his own children, but for many others as well.
Then, in 1603 King James decided there ought to be a new translation of the Scriptures to be read aloud in churches. His reasoning was not so much because a new translation was needed, but because the highly popular Geneva Bible included marginal notes, among which were some that suggested that God installed kings and God could remove kings. This didn’t suit King James’ idea of the divine right of kings, so the new translation was commissioned, six committees were formed, and of course John Bois was appointed as one of the translators, serving with his former mentor Downes.
This despite the fact that some claimed “they needed no help from the country,” reflecting their prejudice against his country origins, lack of academic title, and choice to be a pastor instead of an academic.
A few years later Bois was appointed to the final committee which prepared the final revisions of what was to become known as the Authorized, or King James, Version of the scriptures. Some decades ago some of his meticulous notes came to light. They show that under his direction a group read aloud the translation verse by verse and first discussed and occasionally made changes based on both biblical integrity and readability. Thanks to his work, along with many others, the translation that was published in 1611 became not only a biblical treasure, but a literary classic.
Bois was a great scholar, a great pastor, and a loving husband (despite the fact his wife wasted so much money that his great collection of books was sold out from under him). In some ways he was way ahead of his time when it came to health. He was fastidious, careful about what he ate, fasted often, took unusual care of his teeth for his age (and died with most of them in his head), and lived to the ripe old age of 82, very respectable in that era.
But he was also a bit of a hypochondriac, or at least very suggestible. It is said that when he took it in his head to become a doctor and purchased books to teach himself the subject, he eventually abandoned the project because “whatsoever disease he read of, he was troubled with the same himself.”
We can see that he inherited his faith and his love of scripture from his words written on the flyleaf of his mother’s copy of the Book of Common Prayer: “This was my mother’s book, my good mother’s book. …She had read the Bible over twelve times, and the Book of Martyrs twice; besides other books, a few.”
At the start of this story we mentioned that John Bois was a child prodigy and that helped lead to a life of faith, prayer, and service to God’s Word. How many of us think of Mary, the mother of Jesus, as a child prodigy? Bear in mind that most people believe that young women married after they began puberty, and that Mary was likely a young teen when she became engaged to Joseph and was pregnant through the Holy Spirit. In today’s scripture passage, she demonstrates that whether or not she received any formal training (and in her era that was unlikely) she was definitely paying attention during synagogue service, for on her visit to her cousin Elizabeth after the visit from the Angel Gabriel, Mary responds with a poem of praise we call the Magnificat, where she evidently effortlessly wove echoes from many different Scriptures, including:
- 1 Samuel 1:11, 2:1, 2:5, & 2:6
- Psalms 33:10, 34:2-3 & 10; 35:9, 71:19, 98:1 & 3, 103: 17-18, 113:6, 118:15, 126:2-3, 132: 11, 138:6,
- Habakkuk 3:18
- Malachi 3:12
- Genesis 17:7, 19
- Exodus 20:6
- Isaiah 40:10; 51:9; 52:10;
- Job 5:11;
- Jeremiah 31:3,20
*****************************************
StoryShare, December 15, 2019 issue.
Copyright 2019 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
