No More War On Christmas
Stories
Object:
Contents
"No More War on Christmas" by John Sumwalt
"The New Business Model" by Keith Hewitt
* * * * * * * *
No More War on Christmas
by John Sumwalt
Philippians 4:4-7
A few years ago, a television commentator by the name of John Gibson wrote a book called The War On Christmas. He held that, "It is no longer permissible to wish anyone Merry Christmas," and that "a free expression of Christmas in this age is fast becoming impossible." Gibson claimed that there is a "carefully organized conspiracy" to stamp out Christmas. Some television preachers warned that Americans who celebrate Christmas are "facing persecution."
What are those of us who love Jesus and love our traditional Christmas celebrations to think about all of this?
I say let Jesus be our guide to celebrating Christmas. We need not be swayed by those who have a political agenda, either liberal or conservative. We can all read the scriptures and decide for ourselves what Christmas is about.
The earliest Christian writer, the Apostle Paul, makes no mention of Christmas. Christians in the first several centuries of the church knew nothing of the Christmas traditions that are so popular today, most of which were adapted from pagan celebrations many centuries later. If Jesus was ever concerned about how his birthday should be celebrated it was never recorded in the gospels.
Most of what we know about Christmas is what three gospel writers, Matthew, Luke, and John wrote about Jesus' birth. The beloved stories of the angelic announcement to Mary and Joseph, their journey to Bethlehem, the manger, the shepherds, the star, the visit of wise men, even Herod's slaughter of the innocents and the flight of the Holy family to Egypt are the focus of our celebrations in the church. It is in these stories and in John's reflections on the word becoming flesh and living among us that we find the meaning of Christmas.
Cartoonist Charles Schulz understood this when he made A Charlie Brown Christmas, which first appeared on CBS almost fifty years ago and is run every Christmas season. You know the story: Charlie Brown says to Linus, "I just don't understand Christmas." By the time we get to the climax and after the Peanuts gang turns on Charlie over the anemic little Christmas tree he's brought for their pageant, he says, "Everything I do turns into a disaster. I guess I really don't know what Christmas is all about... isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?" And Linus, whose voice was done by a seven-year-old boy, takes center stage, blanket in hand, and recites the familiar words in a solemn voice:
And 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 shown round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, fear not: for I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a savior which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find a 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.
Then Linus turns to Charlie and says, "That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown," and he puts his thumb back in his mouth and his blanket back up to his cheek.
It is a simple, gentle and loving witness to what God has done in Christ, and all the more powerful because Charles Schulz's words make no judgments and no demands on the viewer. There is no condemnation of anyone else's religion or lack of religion, no attempt to convert anyone who has different beliefs. The viewer is left to decide how to respond.
When the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and told her she found favor with God and that she was going to have a baby and this child would be "called the Son of the Most High..." she had a choice to make. How would she respond to what God was doing in her life? Mary said yes.
This is where Christmas hangs in the balance. Everything else, whether we call it a holiday tree or a Christmas tree, whether manger scenes or Santas are allowed in the village square, even whether the school concert includes Christian Christmas carols is beside the point, trivial really. The only thing about Christmas that is of the ultimate importance is how we respond to what God is doing in our lives and in the world. This requires a commitment to living the Christmas message every day of our lives, which is easier said than done.
In another Peanuts comic strip moment, Lucy, who is always the grouchy one, says to Charlie Brown, "Charlie Brown, in the spirit of the Christmas season, I think we should let bygones be bygones and just try to be kind to each other." Charlie Brown, always the idealist, says to Lucy:
"Well, Lucy, that's wonderful, but don't you think we should be kind to each other all year long?" And Lucy looks at him with amazement and disgust and says, "What are you, some kind of fanatic?"
John Sumwalt is the pastor of Our Lord's United Methodist Church in New Berlin, Wisconsin, and a noted storyteller in the Milwaukee area. He is the author of nine books, including the acclaimed Vision Stories series and How to Preach the Miracles: Why People Don't Believe Them and What You Can Do About It. John and his wife Jo Perry-Sumwalt served for three years as the co-editors of StoryShare. A graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary (UDTS), Sumwalt received the Herbert Manning Jr. award for parish ministry from UDTS in 1997.
The New Business Model
by Keith Hewitt
Luke 3:7-18
Elizabeth sat down at the table and watched her husband closely. Never a man of imposing size, he seemed even smaller now as he hunched over the scrolls and scanned through line after line of small, densely packed characters, squinting now and then or adjusting a scroll so it would catch the most light coming in through the window. The light was fleeing quickly -- it had been bright when he started and faded gradually as it moved across the table in countermarch to the sun, sweeping from one end of the table to the other.
A cup of wine and a plate of bread and fruit saw next to the scrolls, untouched.
She watched as, with the meticulousness of a trader -- which, in a sense, he was -- he drew a line through a set of numbers and carefully replaced them by squeezing new, smaller numbers into the margin next to them.
He'd been doing that a lot, that afternoon.
With a repressed sigh, Elizabeth looked up, caught the girl's eye and made a slight motion with her hand, pantomiming taking a drink. The girl quickly poured a cup of wine, cut it with about half that amount of fresh, cool water and scuffed across the floor, handing it to Elizabeth. She accepted it without looking at the girl or saying anything and drank deeply and then set it down on the table with a thunk.
She stared at her husband for another moment or two, then raised one corner of her mouth in a sardonic expression and said, "Just so I know what to tell Mother, Samuel, when -- exactly -- did you lose your mind?"
His eyes rolled up so he could look at her without lifting his head. "What?"
"I said, when did you lose your mind?"
He frowned slightly, sat up and lay the stylus down, rubbed his eyes as he answered. "What makes you think I've lost my mind?" His voice was tired -- it showed none of the animation or agitation that he had brought home with him from his day in the wilderness, seeking out that Galilean madman.
Silently Elizabeth cursed the shopkeeper who had dragged him there. "You have been sitting there all afternoon, going through the tax rolls, and from what I can see you're cutting the amount owed by most of the people."
Samuel blinked and smiled faintly at his wife. "And that constitutes losing my mind?"
"It does when the money you're cutting out is how we make our living!" She took another drink, set the cup down a little harder, and this time a bit of wine sloshed out onto her hand; she ignored it. She reached across the table, tapped the scroll, not mindful of the droplets of wine she dripped on it. "Look there! The tent maker. You cut his bill in half! And the carpenter, you cut his all together -- see -- 'paid in full,' " she read, upside down.
Samuel shrugged. "It was the right thing to do. Business has not been good."
"That doesn't mean our business has to suffer! We deserve to eke out a living, Samuel. After all, we take the risk on taxes. We promise the empire a certain amount of tax money each year, in return for the tax collection franchise. We make our living by adding a surcharge above and beyond the tax being collected."
"And a prosperous life it has been," Samuel answered.
"Hardly luxurious," she countered, waving a hand to encompass their property, house, and girl. "A small home, a single servant, food on the table... hardly the lap of luxury."
"The people we have been collecting from might differ with you, my darling. Servants are few and far between among our neighbors and many of them are grateful to have both meals at the end of the day. We have never gone hungry."
"So? Are you planning to improve their lot by making ours worse?" she demanded. "Is that your grand plan? You go out to listen to some bug-eating madman, and you come back ashamed of all that you've accomplished?" She leaned forward again, looked into his eyes. "Think of what you have done, Samuel, think of where you were, where you started. We started with nothing but a couple of shekels and some dreams -- and now we're here."
"Darling, what good is it to stand tall if you must do it on the backs of your neighbors? Listening to this man, I realized that what we've been doing is wrong. No, there is nothing wrong with collecting taxes, but extorting -- strong arming people into paying twice what they owe, threatening them with imperial justice if they don't give us what we demand -- that's wrong. Making our money by taking it from them -- not earning, but taking -- is wrong. We should be sharing with them, not taking from them."
"But our life? How can we continue to live if you stop charging for collecting taxes, Samuel?" She was agitated, now, her voice reflecting the panic in her heart.
"That's what John taught me, Elizabeth. How can I continue to live if I do do these things?" He paused for a beat, smiled again. "To do that is death, not life. I choose life." After a moment, he picked up the stylus again and said softly, "I still have work to do, while the light is with me. You understand."
She didn't repress the sigh, this time. "I understand nothing, you crazy old man," she said bitterly and raised her head looking around for the girl. When she caught her eye, she raised her cup once more. The girl hurried to her side, took the cup, and turned away quickly. To her retreating back, Elizabeth added, "And don't cut it this time. I'm going to need all the help I can get."
What kind of life was this going to be, she wondered, as her husband labored to set things right by the fleeing light.
Keith Hewitt is the author of three volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a local pastor, former youth leader and Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He is currently serving as the pastor at Parkview UMC in Turtle Lake, Wisconsin. Keith is married to a teacher, and they have two children and assorted dogs and cats.
*****************************************
StoryShare, December 16, 2012, issue.
Copyright 2012 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.
"No More War on Christmas" by John Sumwalt
"The New Business Model" by Keith Hewitt
* * * * * * * *
No More War on Christmas
by John Sumwalt
Philippians 4:4-7
A few years ago, a television commentator by the name of John Gibson wrote a book called The War On Christmas. He held that, "It is no longer permissible to wish anyone Merry Christmas," and that "a free expression of Christmas in this age is fast becoming impossible." Gibson claimed that there is a "carefully organized conspiracy" to stamp out Christmas. Some television preachers warned that Americans who celebrate Christmas are "facing persecution."
What are those of us who love Jesus and love our traditional Christmas celebrations to think about all of this?
I say let Jesus be our guide to celebrating Christmas. We need not be swayed by those who have a political agenda, either liberal or conservative. We can all read the scriptures and decide for ourselves what Christmas is about.
The earliest Christian writer, the Apostle Paul, makes no mention of Christmas. Christians in the first several centuries of the church knew nothing of the Christmas traditions that are so popular today, most of which were adapted from pagan celebrations many centuries later. If Jesus was ever concerned about how his birthday should be celebrated it was never recorded in the gospels.
Most of what we know about Christmas is what three gospel writers, Matthew, Luke, and John wrote about Jesus' birth. The beloved stories of the angelic announcement to Mary and Joseph, their journey to Bethlehem, the manger, the shepherds, the star, the visit of wise men, even Herod's slaughter of the innocents and the flight of the Holy family to Egypt are the focus of our celebrations in the church. It is in these stories and in John's reflections on the word becoming flesh and living among us that we find the meaning of Christmas.
Cartoonist Charles Schulz understood this when he made A Charlie Brown Christmas, which first appeared on CBS almost fifty years ago and is run every Christmas season. You know the story: Charlie Brown says to Linus, "I just don't understand Christmas." By the time we get to the climax and after the Peanuts gang turns on Charlie over the anemic little Christmas tree he's brought for their pageant, he says, "Everything I do turns into a disaster. I guess I really don't know what Christmas is all about... isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?" And Linus, whose voice was done by a seven-year-old boy, takes center stage, blanket in hand, and recites the familiar words in a solemn voice:
And 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 shown round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, fear not: for I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a savior which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find a 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.
Then Linus turns to Charlie and says, "That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown," and he puts his thumb back in his mouth and his blanket back up to his cheek.
It is a simple, gentle and loving witness to what God has done in Christ, and all the more powerful because Charles Schulz's words make no judgments and no demands on the viewer. There is no condemnation of anyone else's religion or lack of religion, no attempt to convert anyone who has different beliefs. The viewer is left to decide how to respond.
When the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and told her she found favor with God and that she was going to have a baby and this child would be "called the Son of the Most High..." she had a choice to make. How would she respond to what God was doing in her life? Mary said yes.
This is where Christmas hangs in the balance. Everything else, whether we call it a holiday tree or a Christmas tree, whether manger scenes or Santas are allowed in the village square, even whether the school concert includes Christian Christmas carols is beside the point, trivial really. The only thing about Christmas that is of the ultimate importance is how we respond to what God is doing in our lives and in the world. This requires a commitment to living the Christmas message every day of our lives, which is easier said than done.
In another Peanuts comic strip moment, Lucy, who is always the grouchy one, says to Charlie Brown, "Charlie Brown, in the spirit of the Christmas season, I think we should let bygones be bygones and just try to be kind to each other." Charlie Brown, always the idealist, says to Lucy:
"Well, Lucy, that's wonderful, but don't you think we should be kind to each other all year long?" And Lucy looks at him with amazement and disgust and says, "What are you, some kind of fanatic?"
John Sumwalt is the pastor of Our Lord's United Methodist Church in New Berlin, Wisconsin, and a noted storyteller in the Milwaukee area. He is the author of nine books, including the acclaimed Vision Stories series and How to Preach the Miracles: Why People Don't Believe Them and What You Can Do About It. John and his wife Jo Perry-Sumwalt served for three years as the co-editors of StoryShare. A graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary (UDTS), Sumwalt received the Herbert Manning Jr. award for parish ministry from UDTS in 1997.
The New Business Model
by Keith Hewitt
Luke 3:7-18
Elizabeth sat down at the table and watched her husband closely. Never a man of imposing size, he seemed even smaller now as he hunched over the scrolls and scanned through line after line of small, densely packed characters, squinting now and then or adjusting a scroll so it would catch the most light coming in through the window. The light was fleeing quickly -- it had been bright when he started and faded gradually as it moved across the table in countermarch to the sun, sweeping from one end of the table to the other.
A cup of wine and a plate of bread and fruit saw next to the scrolls, untouched.
She watched as, with the meticulousness of a trader -- which, in a sense, he was -- he drew a line through a set of numbers and carefully replaced them by squeezing new, smaller numbers into the margin next to them.
He'd been doing that a lot, that afternoon.
With a repressed sigh, Elizabeth looked up, caught the girl's eye and made a slight motion with her hand, pantomiming taking a drink. The girl quickly poured a cup of wine, cut it with about half that amount of fresh, cool water and scuffed across the floor, handing it to Elizabeth. She accepted it without looking at the girl or saying anything and drank deeply and then set it down on the table with a thunk.
She stared at her husband for another moment or two, then raised one corner of her mouth in a sardonic expression and said, "Just so I know what to tell Mother, Samuel, when -- exactly -- did you lose your mind?"
His eyes rolled up so he could look at her without lifting his head. "What?"
"I said, when did you lose your mind?"
He frowned slightly, sat up and lay the stylus down, rubbed his eyes as he answered. "What makes you think I've lost my mind?" His voice was tired -- it showed none of the animation or agitation that he had brought home with him from his day in the wilderness, seeking out that Galilean madman.
Silently Elizabeth cursed the shopkeeper who had dragged him there. "You have been sitting there all afternoon, going through the tax rolls, and from what I can see you're cutting the amount owed by most of the people."
Samuel blinked and smiled faintly at his wife. "And that constitutes losing my mind?"
"It does when the money you're cutting out is how we make our living!" She took another drink, set the cup down a little harder, and this time a bit of wine sloshed out onto her hand; she ignored it. She reached across the table, tapped the scroll, not mindful of the droplets of wine she dripped on it. "Look there! The tent maker. You cut his bill in half! And the carpenter, you cut his all together -- see -- 'paid in full,' " she read, upside down.
Samuel shrugged. "It was the right thing to do. Business has not been good."
"That doesn't mean our business has to suffer! We deserve to eke out a living, Samuel. After all, we take the risk on taxes. We promise the empire a certain amount of tax money each year, in return for the tax collection franchise. We make our living by adding a surcharge above and beyond the tax being collected."
"And a prosperous life it has been," Samuel answered.
"Hardly luxurious," she countered, waving a hand to encompass their property, house, and girl. "A small home, a single servant, food on the table... hardly the lap of luxury."
"The people we have been collecting from might differ with you, my darling. Servants are few and far between among our neighbors and many of them are grateful to have both meals at the end of the day. We have never gone hungry."
"So? Are you planning to improve their lot by making ours worse?" she demanded. "Is that your grand plan? You go out to listen to some bug-eating madman, and you come back ashamed of all that you've accomplished?" She leaned forward again, looked into his eyes. "Think of what you have done, Samuel, think of where you were, where you started. We started with nothing but a couple of shekels and some dreams -- and now we're here."
"Darling, what good is it to stand tall if you must do it on the backs of your neighbors? Listening to this man, I realized that what we've been doing is wrong. No, there is nothing wrong with collecting taxes, but extorting -- strong arming people into paying twice what they owe, threatening them with imperial justice if they don't give us what we demand -- that's wrong. Making our money by taking it from them -- not earning, but taking -- is wrong. We should be sharing with them, not taking from them."
"But our life? How can we continue to live if you stop charging for collecting taxes, Samuel?" She was agitated, now, her voice reflecting the panic in her heart.
"That's what John taught me, Elizabeth. How can I continue to live if I do do these things?" He paused for a beat, smiled again. "To do that is death, not life. I choose life." After a moment, he picked up the stylus again and said softly, "I still have work to do, while the light is with me. You understand."
She didn't repress the sigh, this time. "I understand nothing, you crazy old man," she said bitterly and raised her head looking around for the girl. When she caught her eye, she raised her cup once more. The girl hurried to her side, took the cup, and turned away quickly. To her retreating back, Elizabeth added, "And don't cut it this time. I'm going to need all the help I can get."
What kind of life was this going to be, she wondered, as her husband labored to set things right by the fleeing light.
Keith Hewitt is the author of three volumes of NaTiVity Dramas: Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a local pastor, former youth leader and Sunday school teacher, and occasional speaker at Christian events. He is currently serving as the pastor at Parkview UMC in Turtle Lake, Wisconsin. Keith is married to a teacher, and they have two children and assorted dogs and cats.
*****************************************
StoryShare, December 16, 2012, issue.
Copyright 2012 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.
