I've long looked down on 'We Three Kings' as a Christmas carol. Sure it's traditional, but it's long, the melody line is hard to sing with a group, and it is so boring to play. I've never heard it and liked it (apart from the stellar version from the Barenaked Ladies and Sarah McLaughlin; but try getting your local church to play that version!) My other beef with the song is that it doesn't really give any spiritual insights to the Christmas story. Sure, it's about the journey of the wise men to see the Christ child, but that's about it. It's mostly a narrative of their trip. Look at the chorus even - it's all about the star that they followed, not even Jesus!
It was on the other day in the background, one of the many songs playing over and over on a Christmas only station, when one particular line nearly knocked me off my feet. "King and God and Sacrifice." Three words, linked together inequitably. King and God go together. Sacrifice does not. King and God are high positions, upper eschelon, top of the food chain. Sacrifice is the lowest of low - what you present to kings and gods. How amazing that Christ can be all in one equally - king and God and sacrifice.
Today we gloss over this fact. We've grown up hearing and reading about the sacrifice of God for us. God became flesh and dwelt among us. Christ took our sins upon himself, becoming the sacrifical lamb for humanity. We know this basic fact of Christianity like the back of our hand. But think about the radical idea that this was back at the first Christmas. The Jews were waiting for their King and their God to arrive boldly, to throw off the oppression. Instead, He came meekly and mildly, a helpless baby born to a young girl, with the spectre of death in His future. A sacrifice, yet King and God as well. This is the mystery and majesty of Christmas.
King and God and Sacrifice. All equal, all linked, all fulfilled in one Person.
Merry Christmas.
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Friday, December 24, 2010
Friday, August 14, 2009
Christmas wish
My 3 year old sat on Santa's lap and Santa asked him what he wanted for Christmas. He replied, "A candy cane." That was it. Nice and simple. I joked to the mom standing next to me, "I guess it will be an easy Christmas for me this year!"
I think back on that day with a tinge of melancholy, for I know that it will someday be lost in a whirlwind of memories and cute stories. I think on it with melancholy, for the innocence that allows him to wish for a candy cane for Christmas will also be gone someday and it tears me to pieces to think of it.
In the three short years since becoming a parent, I am amazed at the transformation in me. The little things that used to bug me are somehow smoothed over, the silly grudges I harbored have been released, the selfish nature that I laid claim to has been purged, all for the love of this child of mine. I don't allege to have become perfect by any means, but suddenly life has a bigger purpose than just my whims and indulgences. My life is this child. I rejoice to see him happy, I sympathize when he is sad, and I hurt to see him in pain.
Right now his world is so easy. His parents love him, he has a few friends that he likes to play with, and he gets a lollipop when he poops in the potty. Throw in a little 'Candy Land' and a trip to the playground and life is good...very good. He thinks everyone likes him, we're all laughing with him, and the hardest thing to deal with is having to turn the T.V. off after just one show.
But as the rest of us know, everyone doesn't always like us, they're not always laughing with us, and there are a lot harder things in life to deal with than a T.V. restriction. I feel almost physically sick to think of the day that will inevitably come when he is rejected by a friend. When he is excluded from the group. When he is the object of laughter. When his heart is broken. When life seems to be closing in on him. My precious son....
Life isn't fair, life isn't easy. I'm pained to know that he will have to learn these lessons. I want for him to know sunny skies and shining waters, not stormclouds and droughts. This sweet smile of his will fade and the sparkle in his eyes will dim. The only thing I can do is teach him that it doesn't have to be a permanent thing.
I want for him to keep the innocence of childhood in his heart forever. I want him to see beauty in a smooth rock on the sidewalk. I want him to know a true friendship. I want him to appreciate the simple things life has to offer. I want him to know that this life isn't the end.
I want him to get his candy cane.
December 20, 2006
I think back on that day with a tinge of melancholy, for I know that it will someday be lost in a whirlwind of memories and cute stories. I think on it with melancholy, for the innocence that allows him to wish for a candy cane for Christmas will also be gone someday and it tears me to pieces to think of it.
In the three short years since becoming a parent, I am amazed at the transformation in me. The little things that used to bug me are somehow smoothed over, the silly grudges I harbored have been released, the selfish nature that I laid claim to has been purged, all for the love of this child of mine. I don't allege to have become perfect by any means, but suddenly life has a bigger purpose than just my whims and indulgences. My life is this child. I rejoice to see him happy, I sympathize when he is sad, and I hurt to see him in pain.
Right now his world is so easy. His parents love him, he has a few friends that he likes to play with, and he gets a lollipop when he poops in the potty. Throw in a little 'Candy Land' and a trip to the playground and life is good...very good. He thinks everyone likes him, we're all laughing with him, and the hardest thing to deal with is having to turn the T.V. off after just one show.
But as the rest of us know, everyone doesn't always like us, they're not always laughing with us, and there are a lot harder things in life to deal with than a T.V. restriction. I feel almost physically sick to think of the day that will inevitably come when he is rejected by a friend. When he is excluded from the group. When he is the object of laughter. When his heart is broken. When life seems to be closing in on him. My precious son....
Life isn't fair, life isn't easy. I'm pained to know that he will have to learn these lessons. I want for him to know sunny skies and shining waters, not stormclouds and droughts. This sweet smile of his will fade and the sparkle in his eyes will dim. The only thing I can do is teach him that it doesn't have to be a permanent thing.
I want for him to keep the innocence of childhood in his heart forever. I want him to see beauty in a smooth rock on the sidewalk. I want him to know a true friendship. I want him to appreciate the simple things life has to offer. I want him to know that this life isn't the end.
I want him to get his candy cane.
December 20, 2006
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