A Historical Christmas

"You know that tuberculosis was a huge killer before 1900," I said to the student who was working with me.

"I've heard that," he said vaguely.

"Some pretty famous people died of it," I said.

"Really...?"

"People like Robert Louis Stevenson," I said.

"Never heard of him," he returned.

"How about the Bronte sisters?"

"I don't think I know who they are either.  A musical group?"  He hazarded a guess.

"How about Frederic Chopin?"

"He sounds foreign," the student said.  "I don't know a whole lot about pop culture."

I gave up.  Clearly he wasn't going to recognize any historical figures that were born pre-1970.

Part of the problem with history is that there is so much of it.  Everything from Washington Crossing the Delaware, to the Journeys of Marco Polo, to the Crimean War falls within its purview.  The bigger problem is that for many people, historical things feel very remote and unrelated to their lives today.

I guess I think about it now, because it is hard for people to understand how the birth, life and death of a man two thousand years ago should make any difference in their lives today. Something from so long ago in the past feels meaningless to the modern American.

Christmas is about remembering just such a life.

They would be right, if Jesus birth was a one time event.  They would be right if Jesus' life was so long past that it was shrouded in the mists of time, but there is something different here, because yes, Jesus was a historical figure, but He is more than that.

Jesus lives today, not as a baby in a manger, but as a Redeemer, Savior, and a Friend.  It's not that Jesus lived, it is that He lives.

I spoke to Him just this morning and I guess that makes all of the difference in the world to make Him the most important person to know.

Even for people uninterested in history.

A Sense of Wonder

A scholar and a farmer went for a walk together in the woods one day.  As they went along the trail, the scholar was constantly pointing at plants and rock formations and identifying them by their Latin names.  Little wildlife showed itself because of his noisiness, but the few birds they did see, he named quickly.

All the while, the farmer was silent, even as he walked along the same path.  He too saw the same plants and trees, but rather than thinking of their genus and species, he soaked in their beauty.

At the end of the walk, the scholar said to the farmer, "You've been awfully quiet.  I hope you've enjoyed our walk as much as I have."

The farmer thought for a little and then said, "You know a lot about all of the things we saw -- more than I'll ever know.  You still need to learn one thing -- never let your focus on details steal your sense of wonder."

I think about this story at this time of year, because it sometimes feels like Christmas is about lists -- lists of people to buy gifts for, lists of people to visit, lists of special candy or cookies to make -- and in all of the busyness, there is little time to breathe, let alone stop and remember what the whole point of the season even is.

I know I'm not very good at that -- I'm more the sort of person who holds his breath all the way through the month of December.  I only begin to respire again when New Year's Day is safely in the rearview mirror.  It certainly isn't the most enjoyable time of year for me, but I usually struggle through it...

One of the beautiful things about having children is being able to see things through their eyes.  The wonder of God becoming and infant and the amazing details of the plan that culminated in the birth of Jesus are awfully well known to me, but their eyes still light up as we read and talk about them.

Just for a minute or two, I would become like a child and feel that sense of wonder again.

There are many things that need to be done, but none is as important as to stop and breathe and just for a moment feel the wonder of it all.

The Castle

The Castle.

It certainly was imposing.  I remember seeing it, standing six stories tall on a ridge overlooking the city of Gatlinburg.  Just looking at it from the tram up to Ober Gatlinburg, you had to be impressed by its size.

I read a little about it later and found at that it had been in the 1960s by a man named John Ruppel, who had a somewhat checkered history.  It had cost over 12 million dollars to build, had 32,000 square feet of living space, an amazing view, and had numerous secret passages and hidden rooms in it.

The thing is that when we talk about "The Castle," we must use the past tense, because in the recent forest fires that besieged Gatlinburg, this home was one of those that burned.

There is a sense in which all of the great works of humans pass, given enough time.  Of the seven wonders of the ancient world, only one -- the Great Pyramid at Giza -- still exists.  Over time, structures deteriorate, burn, and just generally decay.

The Bible tells that eventually everything will burn, "But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything done in it will be laid bare." (II Peter 3:10). 

It all sounds a little nihilistic.  What's the point of trying to leave a legacy, when whatever we do will eventually decay and burn?

Sad to say, too many people focus on the wrong things.  The important things aren't the material things we might accumulate, the wealth we might leave to our families, or even things we build with our hands.  The important things are the ways in which we touch the lives around us and the ways in which we spread joy into the lives of others.

It is the sort of thing that may go unnoticed.  Certainly it will never stand out like a six story castle built in the Smoky Mountains, but it will last a lot longer.

Our heavenly Father sees these little things and will remember, long after all of this has passed away.

Colds

I hate colds.

It really isn't the coughing, sneezing, aching head, or even the generally worn down feelings that you get with one.  It isn't even the fact that I can finish off a Kleenex box in an hour or two (by the way, by the end of the first box, Kleenexes feel like sand paper on your nose, even if they are "ultra soft").  Anyway, the biggest problem with colds is just that you can't do anything to treat them.

(I have one right now, if you haven't guessed)...

Antibiotics don't work, that's certain.  You are guaranteed about seven days of cough with Keflex, maybe about a week of symptoms without.  I always recommend my patients to drink more H2O, but personally, the biggest thing I have found is that when you drink a gallon of water a day, you spend more time in the bathroom.  Maybe you don't notice your cough as much when you constantly need to urinate.  Vitamin C never did much for me either.

But people never were bothered to much by colds in the old day, did they?  They were more worried about scary things like Small Pox and Plague and Typhoid Fever, to be bothered by a little runny nose and cough.

I suppose it all comes back to the need to be in control.  It's the twenty-first century and certainly we should be able to do something to treat the common cold.

I suppose that's why there are folks who come to see me on the second day of symptoms.  "I just want to catch it early," they tell me. 

That's all well and good, but having caught it early, I am afraid that they will keep until their handy immune system kicks in to get things under control.

We all want to be in control of every situation, but whether it is the weather, forest fires, or even common colds, so often we come to the realization that we aren't in control and in fact, we never really were.

That's really OK, because there are bigger hands than ours that are taking care of things and God has given each one of us an immune system that can deal with all sorts of germs.

Even the viruses that cause the common cold.