Tuesday, November 27, 2012

This is Just What “X”-mas Means to Me

The exercise of “X”-mas 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.

Then the church ( Roman Catholic mostly ) came up with the “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 began with pious superstition eventually 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”-mas 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”-mas 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

 
Written by Timothy W. La Vigne
Original concepts 12/18/1999 Vancouver, WA

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Are You Thinking?

Are you thinking of investing in a 2013 hot shot preacher’s Alaskan cruise, annual celebrity concert & revival tour or maybe just an off the rack specialized seminar circuit event? I’m thoroughly impressed with the big name conference & concert combo brochures that are printed on expensive paper & include hotel availability & booking rates. Often, if you sign up early you get a whole 10% off the overpriced gala. Too much exaggeration & not enough honesty are spent hyping the three day music festival or week long seminar that in the real world couldn’t survive without such crafty advertising & heavy promotion. It only takes a few gifted voices to attract the ears of an easily manipulated audience. Just for perspective some Sting 60th birthday concert tickets sold for $1074 a pop. The artist’s name in this case fits the whole concept. Without the oversold curiosity factor, similar pseudo religious pabulum would evaporate. If one person will seek God with an open Bible & a closed mouth sooner or later that person will know more than all the PhD’s in the world. I’m going to write more about this in the future & I’m so inspired by Rick Warren & Joel Osteen. I just can’t decide whether to call the article ‘The Concert Driven Life’ or ‘Your Best Convention Now.’

Thursday, January 12, 2012

GOT SIGNAL?

Among the clouds above us there is a network of electrical impulses and unseen signals racing past and around us. Cell phone towers scatter the chatter to the four winds and the wireless PC connections soak up our time and afferent broadband curiosities. Satellites far above our world transmit various surveillance codes and photograph our whereabouts. So it is in the Spirit world as Angels of the Most High and demons seemingly share the same atmosphere in this invisible exchange. The Lord too is always broadcasting to whosoever will listen, believe and acknowledge Him in their lives. We must have a ‘perceiver’ and be tuned into His frequency in order to hear from Him. We are made aware of His news updates, weather alerts and traffic conditions as we stay connected. Often when attempting to tune in through prayer and waiting on the Lord we are annoyed by the static and crackling noise. When you are far away from a desired station the signal will fade in and out. Sometimes the effort is so tiring that we turn off the receiver and just do without. Such religious interference comes from too many voices trying to talk over each other. One says you should be saved in this manner, another, that tithing is a blessed necessity and still another requires your undivided devotion to more devotion. Then the latest contemporary gospel music plays seductively with the intention of getting you to hum along at first and then go buy the CD. These pied pipers with their convenient electronic methods are what form the opinions and theology of those who have given themselves to the white noise of iTunes Christianity. The psychological interference alone leaves the hearer in a low frequency relationship with the Lord. The right connection is the careful study of the scripture and allowing the Holy Spirit to interpret His own transmissions. The personal altitude for honing in on that signal requires an antenna and that antenna is an effectual, fervent and high frequency prayer life. .

Radio announcers are known for their authoritative voice which causes us to surrender our attention. Orson Welles was such a voice. In the radio production of The War of the Worlds back in 1938 he was so convincing with his description of space aliens invading the earth that several people committed suicide and panic was induced in much of America as a result of the prank. It worked so well that the government realized that you really can fool most of the people most of the time and this could work again and again. It did, it has and it will. The point is if a person is willing to pay close attention to what is being communicated, believe it and entertain the concepts, the future could very well be a bamboozling success and a complete and yet lucrative disaster.

Who or what do you give your attention to these days? Do you rely on C-span, ESPN, Dr. Laura or MTV? Our spiritual nature is drawn to sources like EWTN, One Place.com, Charles Stanley or other seeker friendly network static. Don’t get me wrong I like Dr. Stanley. In the end we all choose what we will give our ears to. Jesus said that he that has ears let him hear. Then he says something to the effect that to him that hath shall more is given. Hath what? Hath ears! So the one who is paying attention will be given the ability to pay more attention and those who are not paying attention will have what they thought they understood, taken away from them. Disinformation is now usually accepted because most of us don’t care for personal investigation which requires examining the forensic evidence. When a person has no discerning heart he isn’t capable of comprehending what is being broadcast and the truth of God (pardon the pun) just goes over the head of the hearer. The directional signal is the gift of the Holy Ghost and He will sort out and tune in the content of each broadcast and now the only question left for us now is.. Got Signal?

For whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance: but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath. .. .. And in them is fulfilled the prophecy of Esaias, which saith, By hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand; and seeing ye shall see, and shall not perceive: For this people's heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed; lest at any time they should see with their eyes and hear with their ears, and should understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them.
Matt 13:12 &14 * my bold italics

Thank you and stay tuned for a word from our sponsor. To Him be the Glory and Honor and (well over 500,000 watts of 24 hour a day) Power.

T. LaVigne
thewinevine@hotmail.com

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

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

Sunday, March 20, 2011

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

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

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

Friday, February 11, 2011

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

Count Your Blessings & Thank You