Christmas. This little Light of Mine.

There has been excited talk between branches of the Union of Real Santa's about what really discriminates between a real and a fake Father Christmas. Does he have a real beard or simply cotton wool stuck on his cheeks? Is he a fully paid up member of the union, does he wear the full standard Santa suit. Piffle indeed.
But well meaning and sincere Christians are asking similar questions.
When was Jesus really born? Was it in on December 25th or sometime in September?
What about a Christmas Tree? Is this really a pagan symbol of the fertile earth? Should we decorate the house?
Can we introduce the candle lighting ceremony of Hannukah just ensure that we are in line with Jewish tradition?
Shakespeare wrote a play entitled "Much ado about Nothing."
He could have been speaking about Christmas and all the to-do and drama that goes on.
We will all keep the main thing the main thing if we LET THE LIGHT SHINE.
Last week a few of us went down to the city centre and lifted up our voices to sing carols and remind people that JESUS is the reason for it all. No Jingle Bells, no Chris Kringle, no Frosty the Snowman, just a few men singing and shouting forth the good news of Christ's birth. Was it the best way? Could there have been a better way? Maybe, but it was OUR WAY. If you let the light shine in YOUR way this Christmas, from fifty miles in space it will all look like one big kaleidoscope of Christian light and wouldn't that be great!

Jubilate.

Ian

Hark the Herald Angels.

My brother in law from England enquired yesterday why he had not received a BWI for a week. He was suggesting that in seven days of Donald Trump, climate change and international Jihad I was a little off my game.

Not so! There has been a recent warning that too much red-meat is bad for the health and so I decided to stay with the more serene message of Christmas.

Since David attends a Methodist Church he should be happy that Pauline is sending the strains of Hark the Herald Angels through our house even as I write.

Charles Wesley penned the hymn over over 250 years ago. Arguably it has been the most loved and most sung carol ever composed.

Charles went on to write about 4,000 other sacred songs. He is the most prolific and inspired of all English speaking poets. I read one of his hymns every morning as part of my devotions. His verse, his sublime themes, his magnificent metre, his mastery of the language, his deep insights into the forlorn state of the human heart and of the infinite mercy of God to reach out accept, forgive and redeem, place him at the very apex of literary genius.

Through his writings and the preaching of his brother John, England averted the blood shed of a revolution that convulsed France in the 18th Century. Fully one million people, out of a English population of six million, were swept into the Kingdom of God during the religious revival that engulfed the land.

How wonderful! Why is it then that we have not heard more of Charles Wesley and why his body of work has not been enshrined with that that of Browning, Byron, Shakespeare and Shelley?

In a word: PREJUDICE. That very rooted and obstinate disposition I meet every day when I speak to people of the redeeming love of God and their refusal to listen. I have got used to it. Nothing much has changed in 200 years.

But I still recommend the poems of Charles Wesley as the greatest ever penned.

Merry Christmas.

Ian