Nope 12.19.2024

     It seemed like a good idea to write about snow when it snowed on the last day of November. It was cold last week, though no snow. On Monday morning I awoke to thunder. It rained hard. It was 58 degrees. There was no snow in the forecast. I seemed like a fraud, an imposter when I tried to consider a “snow theme” for this week. That’s what happens when you select a weather-driven concept for a month’s writing. It sometimes just doesn’t work. 

    So here I sit, roughly a week before the big day trying to come up with an idea (or two) for the last blog-essay before Christmas. I’ve been in the text this week. Studying the Magi for 12.22.2024, duly noted in Things and BusyCal as “functionally Christmas Sunday." Actually, I kind of like Christmas back in the middle of the week again. It gives me some “first of the week” next week to get some work behind me before the holiday. As of 10 minutes ago, upon finishing my Christmas Eve sermon, I am “ready for Christmas.” I’ve noticed as I get older that the time passes much more quickly. It only seemed like yesterday we were celebrating Thanksgiving. And now we are a week before Christmas. 

Is there snow? Nope. 

Is there joy? Yep. 

Is there hope. Yep. 

    The Magi didn’t make the trip to Judea for the weather. It was not a vacation that brought them to Bethlehem, and it wasn’t really a business trip. Despite our creative derivation of abundant riches for decorating our houses they did not accumulate their Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh for their own enjoyment. They may have been ignorant of the time of this Kings birth, the city where it occurred, and all that it signified but they did know what needed to be done upon their arrival and they certainly did it. 

“saying, “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”” (Matthew 2:2 ESV)

“And going into the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh.” (Matthew 2:11 ESV)

What a refreshing approach to life. They set out from their homeland intending to “worship” this new-born King, and when they got their bearings straight that is exactly what they did! Imagine that. They did what they intended, and their intent was direct, practical, and doable. They did not appear to know exactly how to worship a “King of the Jews”, so they brought what they thought of as appropriate gifts—gifts that were fit for a king.  

    I love the holiday season. I love Christmas sermons and Christmas Eve services. I love sitting in the evening with the living room illuminated only by the sparkling tree. I, umm, have not wrapped any gifts yet. I will. And I will giggle when they are open by my beloved. The house has been filled with the smells of baking bread, Chex Mix, and pie. The Christmas season is awesome. 

There may be a point (after we travel!) when I sashay to the window or open the door and wistfully look outside thinking “Snow might be nice.” Of course, Christmas is on a Wednesday this year so a White Christmas would mean kind of an uncomfortable Thursday. Sometimes it’s better to wish and hope that get and shovel! 

    I don’t think that those Magi, those wise men, those supposed “Kings of Orient Are”, bantered amongst themselves about how picturesque it would be if there were fluffy flakes floating down when they knelt and opened their beautiful, worshipful, valuable, but impractical gifts. They did not ponder the purity and beauty of a well-timed, gold-encrusted, tree. They did not think of Nativities past, or how the old-fashioned trips to Bethlehem—like they took when they were kids—were so much better than these modern trips to Bethlehem. They did not argue the overt commercialization of their trip, the political fallout of the tyrants hissy-fit, nor the geo-political ramifications of Kingdom asserting itself against Empire. Their intent was not starting a movement, but to pay simple homage to a King whose presence they did not grasp, whose divinity they did not understand, and whose salvation they did not comprehend. 

    They may not have known much. But they did the right thing. And here we are, twenty centuries later getting all teary eyed about a snowy landscape, a perfect turkey, and a well-trimmed tree. When, if we sit still in the silence, we may be allowed to hear the lilting tones of “Angels on High” and the profound promise of eternal salvation. A Christmas which makes our hearts white as snow is so much more satisfying than a White Christmas, don’t you think?