This is just what X-Mass Means to Me

The exercise of X-Mass which is cherished by so many evolved over time from a pagan practice as I discovered in the X-file. I found out that long ago when the heathens were in bloom, some disgusting behavior ruled the day. Some bizarre festivities came to be as a result of enduring those long cold months of the year. People became weary of being in the dark and soon after discovering fire the tribe began to assemble, mostly to stay warm. Eureka! It’s story time. Eventually the imagination began to gel into all kinds of superstitious rituals and one of them became known as the winter solstice celebration and December 25th became a big day in this sunny historical recipe. Primitive religion and basic violent ignorance was the mechanism of the first entertainment system. This chilly and annoying season of vacant space in the schedule became a tiresome routine, so man said, “Let there be lights,” and that was just the beginning. Eventually this pseudo enjoyable, time consuming and expensive activity was born and there were lights.

The early Roman church hierarchy came up with the original X-Mass notion that if we place the baby Jesus in there somewhere, we could sanitize this void and in the mix make a few bucks; all to the glory of God of course. This salvaging operation in the festivities department soon began to inspire more ridiculous stories that gullible and illiterate Christians commenced to believe, accept and support. What had began as mostly pious superstition soon procured additional financial momentum. This offered the possibility of holding the infant Jesus hostage for a few weeks during the coldest days of the year while negotiating terms for releasing the legends and inaccurate fables. It sounded delightful, it glittered and had an aroma of its own. I have come to understand that it just smells.

There’s more. The X-mush is a side dish of mentally unhealthy side affects. It can be depressing to a poor man and a disappointment to a greedy or ungrateful person. It has so very little to do with Jesus anymore and more to do with the accumulation of those unnecessary items which at a reasonable time of year will end up in a garage sale. Modestly priced I might add. Don’t get me wrong, I have been both victim and perpetrator in these X-miss trends and habits. I too have looked at many a gift and thought, “just what were you thinking when you paid the cashier for this future white elephant?” It’s not going to bother me if you think that I’m a Scrooge. This guilt driven insult is spoken to intimidate the rational inspection of the issue. It is part and parcel to the expectations, family traditions, seasonally cloned attitudes, and the purchasing mystique. These X-mess absurdities just keep getting passed on to the children.

When my son was small, we showered him with gaudily wrapped prizes and read to him from the second chapter of the Gospel of Luke. My wife cooked and we went to the Christmas service at our church and enjoyed the truth that God became a man and lived on the earth. I have heard that if you want anything done right, you have to do it yourself. The Lord obviously agrees. But I noticed that Jesus had no festivities committee present or even a welcome wagon. There was no invitation on a flashy Hallmark card and I believe very few knew or cared that He had arrived. God was born in a barn of sorts among the farm animals with the smell of manure in His first breath. There was no pine tree cut down in the prime of its life, laden with ornaments over in the corner. None of the fancy wrapped store bought packages, the bric-a-brac of our high tech, remote controlled, return them if you don’t like them environment cluttered the stable floor. The shepherds of today refuse to spread the good news like they did 2000 and some years ago. The wise men and theologians of today don’t believe the bible and wouldn’t understand a sign from heaven if they saw one and couldn’t pour eggnog out of a boot if the directions were written on the heel. Spiritually speaking that is.

Jesus came to us not requiring that we celebrate His birth, because He has no beginning and He has no end. He did although come to present Himself as a gift and still offers Himself to anyone who will accept it. He is now mostly ignored in the X-must rush. For those who choose to believe, He only requires that we remember to acknowledge His commandments and promises. But we still insist on giving Him an unfair trial, if we dare to try Him at all. Think of it as a gift exchange with an unusually cruel death for Him and in return a new life for us; as in, His beating for our healing. You get the picture. It’s not as pretty as a Hollywood film, but then truth just isn’t as exciting as intoxicating visual animation.

I appeal to you to consider the resurrection in the X-missed it again object lesson. It’s all some of us can do to get out of bed and face another day except on X-Mass day as we have done since we were children. Great resurrection morning! We rise up early, make a lot of noise tear open perfectly wrapped items and begin operating them with not even the benefit of reading the instructions. We will become goofy and surprised, somewhat confused and also a bit envious too, until about noon when most of the toys will loose their interest in us and remain neglected or broken already. We’ll stuff ourselves silly with white sugar, starch and cooking grease. We will consume the worse types of snack ever invented, designed or brewed and of course do all this with at best a marginal suggestion of appreciation to the One who makes it all possible. Some will say that that’s just my opinion and a very X-treme one at that.

I have come to believe that a resurrection happens every December 25th in most of the free world and is soon forgotten in a vapor of gluttonous spending and anxiety. In an earth that knows no peace, a day of ancient custom whose origin is found in witchcraft has no special magic for me, knowing that many will go to their grave without ever opening the gift that God gave us. Go ahead and celebrate this pagan holiday while you can because there are not many X-messes left until He returns. Learn to be thankful for every moment you have above ground. Without the Lord and His love for mankind, there would be no use to celebrate anything. He alone has allowed and even tolerated all of the Christmases past. This present one and any future ones however are still in question, and that’s just what X-Mass means to me.

　

Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter; Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is man’s all. For God will bring every work into judgment, including every secret thing, whether good or evil. Ecclesiastes 12:13-14

T. LaVigne

A Box of Screws

I don’t recall being in the Spirit on the Lord’s Day or having a vision that would cause a person to write an inspirational novel and get them selves booked on a traveling ministry circuit or ending up as a guest on Oprah, but I do wonder if I was merely in the pretrial deposition phase of a possible imagined conviction. A criminal might get anxious if he was to get himself busted and be sent to prison in a similar scenario and over such a minor technicality as I present here.

As I was doing an inventory of the evidence that was being compiled pertaining to the impending case against me, someone came across a box that was to be presented at my trial. The box in question was filled with small metal screws, nails and washers. As I looked at what appeared to be peoples exhibit A, the District Attorney, a flashy devil in a three piece suit, began to unravel the contents of my life. He asked me why I had used so little of the items in the box but yet was so overly liberal with gossip and innuendo which I noticed was labeled peoples exhibit B. He must have thought that my response would be the coup de grace in the case as I hesitated to present a plea. It was then that I realized that I wasn’t given a large task in my former life. I wasn’t put in charge of the electrical grid or the drywall, the roofing or any heavy lifting for that matter. I was not required to mow the lawn, pour any cement or pave the Lord’s driveway. I was given minor duties that had I kept busy would have used up much more of the hardware in question. Each of the small items were the God bless you’s, kind gestures and simple courtesies. A short prayer on behalf of a stranger or asking to do some small chore could have changed the moment for someone. I must have thought so little at the time about those seemingly insignificant phrases that could have helped to make someone’s day. A kind hello or a random act of kindness was often neglected. How many people did I meet in everyday life that I had so little concern for? I would often think that yes, Jesus may love you but I think you’re a certified jerk. I’m sure I’m the only one who has ever experienced that. Just a little screw or a thumb tack would have helped someone keep it together for another day. A nail could have fixed a picture to the wall or provided a place to hang a hat. The possibilities were endless and I realized that as I approached the bench. I’m sobered in this moment of thought as I come to understand that this box of unused fasteners may just be my eternal reward at the Judgment Seat of Christ. I may be reminded all through eternity that I missed so many precious opportunities to build someone up or to help in a small way to establish someone’s faith. Although I hope not to over simplify this, these small opportunities are only a byproduct of our walk with the Lord in this lifetime and these works of faith do not save us from God’s major penalties. Only the atoning blood of Jesus can do that but we do these generous acts of faith as a token of our love for Him. To brighten someone’s day or to bring joy to a sorrowful soul is just a small cog in the big wheels of this awesome living mechanism called the New Jerusalem. Some of us will do great things but most of us will not get any credit for any great achievement here on this planet in our lifetime. We’ll have to wait for our reward in His everlasting kingdom but until then I pray you can empty your box of hardware in a blessed and prayerful fashion. As for me, it may have been a dream but I’m awake now.

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom; teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord. And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him. Col 3:16-17

T. LaVigne

My Life with Al K. Hall*

Al K. Hall and I were the best of friends for several years. Our conversations consisted of Al doing the talking and me not paying attention to detail or accuracy. Al would often boast of great feats of strength and had the best of intentions but without me he was nothing. We would often wander uninspired down Any St. of Any Town America where loitering was considered a serious business and our unkempt lifestyle preserved our poverty.

Al and I were a team and we were going places, although when you are going nowhere in particular, any road will get you there. Al K. Hall and I went down that road together. We dwelled in the alleys and abandoned buildings strewn with broken dreams, rotting vitality and lost ambition. Our world was void of imagination and purpose, so I only wonder now what I could have done without Al K. Hall.

Al managed to escape going to jail. I of course stayed there occasionally because of some trouble he started. He was always faithful to wait for me outside until I did our time. Al was always busy in an unproductive sort of way. He managed to tear a family apart and killed a couple teenagers on the highway. I wasn't with Al that time but I could have been. I’m sure I was vertically inconsistent and less than ambulatory. Al K. Hall helped me lose my job that very day. I heard Al was the featured attraction at a funeral, a brutal domestic violence incident and a prison sentence, all at the same time on the same day and at several places at once. He really gets around and the police know him by name. He seems to be a great influence in the community. Some of us just can't get enough of Al K. Hall. He's so entertaining, infamous and full of it. You know, taste and variety.

Al was such an inspiration to me. He encouraged me to gamble, steal and start arguments. I owe all my debts and failures to Al K. Hall. I spent the money I didn't have on people I didn't really know to pay for an experience that I don't clearly recall having. Everyone assured me that I had a good time.

I lost a fortune investing myself in his company. Al helped himself to most of my potential, and soaked up my creativity while all the warning signs or common sense went neglected. He often caused me to break down and weep like a child but as soon as we were back on speaking terms he assured me that nothing was going right, that life was meaningless and frequently made a suggestion that I find a gun and terminate my existence. He always mentioned he would be willing to stay until I obtained the nerve to complete the chore. He didn't say anything about who was going to clean up afterward. He only promised to remain close, right up to the end. I mentioned that Al did most of the talking in those days. It should be clearly obvious that Al K. Hall did most of the thinking too.

Al and I went to Hard Knox University in the mid to late 90's. We did our undergraduate studies at the Curbside Annex in Any Town. Al enrolled us in Hell 101 and our school colors were black and blue. I was short by a few days of completing a minor in DUI and almost graduated with a DOA. Although some people never learn from their mistakes, I on the other hand have earned a certifiable education that any liberal college professor could appreciate.

I haven't seen Al for some time now since we went our separate ways. We had an inevitable disagreement over that sobriety thing. We went to church together some but Al got real uncomfortable when he saw that a change was coming and just got up and left. With God’s help I don’t expect to be seen with Al ever again. I don't imagine there's any way for Al K. Hall to get right with God. I still see Al around from time to time in magazines or on television. I know he will most likely be here in Any Town until the judgment day. I know there's a case pending against him. I believe I can testify to that.

*My Life with Alcohol.. 6/22/2005 Timothy La Vigne

Reflecting on It

Some people just don't get it.
It might be the death of us all
So we better get used to it.

Writers attempt to describe it and
Musicians claim they feel it.
Critics will pick it apart
While the courts put a price on it.
Thieves conspire to steal it but
Then dictators only kill for it.
Many have become sick from it and
They never saw it coming.
It was on the six o'clock news.
Governments tax it, then deny it.
I almost lost my faith because of it
But I found it in an old book.
It is written. That's what it said.

There! It's all behind us now.
I admit it, although it's hard,
Sometimes, I just don't get it either.

T. LaVigne

Through a Glass Darkly

What do you make of a character that loiters around your house and waits for an inconvenient time to get in your face about something; you know like a zit, an ugly tie or a bad hair day. I think he sits on the edge of the tub on the other side of the wall and jumps up when he hears me coming and throws himself up against the glass about the time I arrive. There’s a person who looks just like you who hangs out in your hall and insists on giving you his approval before he lets you leave the house. Sometimes he looks worse than you do and causes you to start feeling like he looks. Or at least until you come to terms with the moment.

What does he do all day while I’m at work? I can tell he’s not a good housekeeper. I think he comes through the glass and goes through my personal affects while I’m away and then when I see him he acts like he didn’t do anything wrong. And what’s with that stupid grin when he thinks he’s come up with an original thought? I’ve come to believe that this curious yet suspicious fellow has been following me around. I saw him at the mall the other day on a surveillance monitor stalking me. He even showed up at church on several occasions observing my reflection in the vestibule window. When I go to buy clothes I seldom go into the fitting room because I’m concerned that he’ll make me out to be fashion deprived and obsolete style wise. And there is an added insult. This dude’s picture is on my drivers’ license. If he gets into trouble with the law, I get to hold the numbers during the photo portion of the arrest process while he remains unaffected. So if you see any resemblance to a person like this in your mirror, be advised that you’ll have to come up with your own alibi. He’ll expect you to cover for him.

In that other scene behind the wall people come and go from time to time near and around that window in between two worlds. When you are there next time see if you really recognize that person who has claimed your facial features. He might attempt to convince you that he can understand what makes you anxious and can feel your pain; you know, like Bill Clinton. But don’t take it too seriously if he just makes a face at you. That’s what he does for a living. Sometimes you just have to turn your back on him and he’ll go away. He will of course return occasionally to remind you to adjust your self esteem methodology. When you were younger it didn’t matter that much but now that time has had its way the truth may have become an unkind opportunist. You must do business with that image and face the fact that you may not know that person at all. The apostle Paul said in one passage; For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. 1 Cor 13:12. If you turn off the light the person in question doesn’t seem to be so threatening and doesn’t have an opinion or any recognizable features at all. But in order to make those suitable repairs one must have the light on and face the future head on.

But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves. For if any be a hearer of the word, and not a doer, he is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass: For he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was. But whoso looketh into the perfect law of liberty, and continueth therein, he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work, this man shall be blessed in his deed. James 1: 22-25

This is the day that the Lord has made.. now go out there and make something of it too.

Here’s looking at you, T. LaVigne

What's In A Seed?

There is a parable* in the New Testament that mentions wheat farming from an ancient perspective that is still practiced today. Assured that a piece of property has been cleared of stones, plowed and fit to accept the seed, we can begin. The inexperienced often throw seed in every direction thinking they are sowing but the knowledgeable farmer goes into a prepared field to begin sowing. Tomatoes or potatoes require a different cultivation format but the Lord used wheat in a few of His parables. Jesus implies that some seed found its way to the extreme or curious fringes along the very edge. The stones from the field were piled near an access road where bramble bushes would grow and the birds would have had a field day. No pun intended. Every seed has a life of its own and in a different toss would have landed in the good ground. You don’t see the farmer focusing on the desolate areas but what we observe is an inadvertent loss of a precious item; the seed. In that seed is a future and a hope. It has all the potential of any other seed in the sack but where it lands is up to the inadvertent action of the sowing. Time and chance happens, as Solomon would say. Eccl 9:11-12

Of all the landing zones mentioned, the thorny patch is worthy of examination. A shallow start or a bird snack is one thing but the thorn garden has a classification of its own. In this sticky situation the dirt is suitable enough and has depth, sunshine and a built in security system. It may produce an attractive flower or a fragrance like a rose and of course is part of a community of assorted weeds and briers. When good seed ends up in undeveloped territory, it is unfortunate but then it happens all too often.

The root in the ground is the heart of the problem. At first a basic sprout is like any other conversion to any other religion but the rich soil of American Christianity lends itself to the environment of achievement and expectation. A prosperous preacher who drinks and beats his wife can still be seen on Sunday with a sack of seed, so let’s not credit the farmer for crop failure or a bountiful harvest and how others handle their germination process is of little concern. As the roots of the good seed get entangled with the root of the weeds it soon becomes difficult to consider leaving that plot of dirt. The riches of this world are being offered wholesale to many church members today. Twisted among the roots are scriptures that seem to imply that the Lord is pleased with much activity, many friends and a social or environmental agenda. Patriotism, politics and moral causes along with Christian fiction, contemporary gospel music and Jesus movies are implemented as nitrate additives to insure a false nutrition in the early years of this Purpose Driven garden party.

In our modern age the thorns are longer and the roots go deeper into the world, the world that is about to be destroyed by fire just before the last wheat harvest. In the outside chance that a stalk of wheat survives all of this and grows to maturity, the chances are that that stalk of wheat would not be part of the harvest. It’s a, ‘being in the wrong place at the wrong time’ scenario. It’s so out of character and is one of those oddities of nature that happens rarely but today the way the gospel is being presented you would think that it is a field of thorns that is the desired crop. In another parable Jesus speaks of such an agenda. Thorn seed is being sowed by many evil evangelists, and is sprouting up unnoticed in the fields of what were once amber waves of grain. The ideal scene would be a thorn among the wheat. We could handle that with a hoe but we are beyond that agricultural anomaly now.*

T. LaVigne
*Article based on the parables found in Matt 13:1-23; Mark4:1-20; Luke 8:4-15