the day i saw the Saviour

i have been a CHRISTian since 1997, when CHRIST revealed Himself to me in fullness in el naranjal, honduras, on a dirt road in that mountain village.  no sermon, no invitation complete with 15 verses of "just as i am," just an almost pauline experience of "why are you playing games with religion?" with the Saviour.  i was raised by wonderful, godly parents, who made sure that i was exposed to the Bible and the Gospel throughout my childhood days, but i will be the first to admit that in my life i have had doubts, culminating in college when everything i was being forced to learn in the biology/chemistry field contradicted what i was taught as a child.  i went through a crisis of faith, that i mostly kept to myself, where i questioned all that i had been brought up to believe.  but once CHRIST saved me, and changed my life forever, my faith became solidified in my life.  however, i will admit that i felt as many CHRISTians probably feel, a longing for the day when our faith will become sight, and we can see the Saviour face to face.  what is the reason for this?  many will give you a plethora of reasons, but very few will admit that they themselves struggle with the reality of it.  sure, they may have faith, and the Bible defines faith as "the evidence of things unseen," and unfortunately, for the majority of CHRISTians around the world, their faith must needs be placed upon things unseen.  that does not make it any less real, nor does it imply ignorance on their part, but rather the reality that we have to believe something we can only read about, and as a result, we become almost like thomas:  wanting to believe, but finding it difficult sometimes in the midst of a lack of seeing it ourselves.  that is why we long for that day when we shall stand face to face before our Saviour, experiencing Him fully and bowing at His feet in humble thanks and adoration and worship.

however, yesterday, something changed.  i saw the Saviour.  when orthodox jews pray, they pray moving their whole body, utilizing all of their senses, yielding all of them to God.  until yesterday, the only sense utilized in my faith was the sense of hearing, when my faith came by hearing the Word of God.  however, being able to utilize the senses of sight, smell, and touch, brought me one step closer to faith becoming sight.  being able to walk in the steps that CHRIST walked; touching the place where He cried out in anguish for the cup to pass from him, where His cross was placed, where His body was laid in preparation for burial, and the stone slab in the tomb where He defeated death; smelling the smells of jerusalem, the musty smell of the olive trees and dirt in the garden of gethsemane, of the anointing oils used in burial that emanated from the stone of preparation, the sickly sweet smell of stone and earth inside the tomb; made everything in the Bible come alive.

but the one sense that was the spark that lit the flame inside my soul, illuminating my faith, was the sense of sight.  standing on the mount of olives, seeing in one direction the desert where He went to be tempted, and in the other direction the city of jerusalem below, where He looked down and was moved with compassion, i gathered a glimpse of the drive inside of Him, of loving a people so deeply that it grieved His spirit at their hopelessness.  sitting in the garden of gethsemane, and looking around at the olive trees, kneeling at the stone where He prayed, and closing my eyes and picturing the darkness of that night as He awaited arrest, knowing what lay ahead, and having a chance to walk away, but choosing to submit to the Father's will,  i experienced a mere semblance of the urgency of the mission that He must have felt, the urgency of knowing that there was no other way for sinful humans to meet God's demands for holiness.  walking the via dolorosa, "the way of anguish," i could almost hear the people shouting, could almost see them lining the streets, pressing upon Him and pushing Him forward towards the place of His crucifixion.  it flooded me with the great sorrow that weighed heavier upon Him than the cross he bore upon his back, a sorrow not of what He was going through, but a sorrow wrought in the ignorance of the people around Him, the ones He loved, who not only didn't love Him back, but hated and despised Him, of a love unrequited.  few things in this life are as painful as a broken heart, and His heart was breaking as He walked that half-mile to golgotha.  seeing the rough stones on that street, and the steps going upward, that made it a sometimes unstable and difficult walk, brought to life the unbelievable task of walking that street while dehydrated and exhausted from lack of sleep, with the immense weight of a wooden crossbeam on His back.  going into the church of the holy sepulchre, i climbed the steps to golgotha, and saw and touched the ground where He was nailed to the cross, and the hole that the cross was dropped down into.  i closed my eyes and tried to block out the gaudiness of the silver and gold icons that now surrounded the place where my Saviour died for me.  i imagined what the area looked like, the smells of death and decay that would have permeated the air.  i saw His passion as He cried out "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."  climbing down from golgotha, i went to the place where His body was prepared for burial.  the romans in their cruelty, wanted to make sure that people realized the penalty for defying them, so they would not only leave people on the crosses for days after their death, to be used as fodder for crows, but once the deceased condemned were taken down from the cross, there was a stone slab nearby that their body would be placed upon and sometimes left for days as well, so that their grotesqueness and decay would be witnessed by all who passed by.  this as well removed any shred of dignity as their body lay there naked awaiting their loved ones, if any dared, to come out and prepare them for burial, and would be a further reminder to the jews of what happened when someone dared to defy the roman empire.  it was there that i saw His humility, in allowing them to treat Him with such contempt, and it resounded in my mind, flooding my thoughts, the verse where it said, "and He humbled himself, being obedient to death, even to death on a cross."  it was there that the "even" garnered meaning beyond anything i ever have imagined in my head.

and then, as i stood in line for 20 minutes to spend my 15 seconds inside His tomb, a tide of reality crashed into my faith.  the King was dead.  you read it in the Bible, you see it in movies and plays, but here, in the coldness and solemnity of this dark, cold, stone church, the reality set in.  as i waited to enter, i realized what the disciples must have felt as they waited.  those 20 minutes seemed like hours, as i tried to process all my soul was experiencing through the rush of the dwindling of time, like trying to drink in as much of a river as you could as it rushed past.  before entering His tomb, there was a tomb in a room off to the right, that was the tomb that joseph of arimithea occupied after giving his tomb to CHRIST.  it was not covered with a chapel, nor was it garnished with gold and silver or icons and paintings, but rather was a simple room, left untouched save the walls and high ceiling of the church built around the site.  the floor was not paved, but was still a rock and dirt floor, and you could walk down into it and see and experience what an actual tomb was like during the time of CHRIST.  this was a reminder of the lack of pomp surrounding CHRIST's burial.  i pictured that as i made my way forward with the pilgrims of the faithful to the entrance of CHRIST's tomb.  it was now covered with the extravagance that the church had bestowed upon the holy place.  the entrance was low and cramped, and only 3 or 4 people could be inside at a time due to the space constraints.  as i entered, an overwhelming sense of holiness permeated the air.  some may say it was emotion, but it was more than that.  i felt a stirring in my soul that was as powerful as that day in el naranjal, when CHRIST revealed Himself to me.  there it was:  the stone where His body lay.  it is important to note that:  it was His body.  He was dead.  this was a tomb, a grave, cold and dark, sealed off by a massive stone, despite the spectacle that it has now become.  in those 15 seconds inside, before the attendant outside began rushing us out, i experienced a lifetime.  for a moment, time stood still.  and in the final seconds, as i knelt there with tears running down my face, i saw Him defeat death, and noted that His body is not there!  joseph of arimithea's bones were carried away and put in a church somewhere, as were the other apostles and saints throughout history.  but there were no bones of CHRIST to carry away.  i watched Him in my mind's eye, sit up on that slab, place His feet over the side, stand up, and walk out of that tomb.  He's alive!  and because He's alive, we now have all of these places that have been preserved.  because He's alive, i now have a Saviour, instead of a dead religious leader leaving me hopeless.  the King is alive!

there were those there that kissed the places mentioned.  there were those that were simply there because of the historical significance of them.  there were those there that signed up for a tour, and missed the Saviour.  that's because rocks and churches and paintings are just that:  creations.  there is little value in and of those things apart from faith.  some chose to place their faith in those things, worshiping the creation instead of the Creator.  for me, they were a doorway to a hidden part of my faith that i never realized was there until yesterday.  Jesus said, "blessed are those who haven't seen and yet believe."  so was my faith any less real before yesterday?  absolutely not, as is the same with yours.  the government of nigeria will pay for their people to visit jerusalem once in their lifetime.  the nation of israel will pay for a "birthright" trip for every jew throughout the world to come to the holy land once in their lifetime.  i wish that every one of you could get the chance to come and experience the holy land, if only once in your lifetime.  but for those who will never be able to, take heart, for your faith without sight is blessed, and one day, all of us will have our faith become sight when we stand before Him in Heaven to share eternity in His presence!  until that day, my faith will forever be changed, having seen a glimpse of the Saviour, much like moses in the cleft of the rock, and having those places in Scripture come to life, from words typed on the onion-skin paper of my Bible, to a place of strengthened reality in my soul.  there is no greater CHRISTmas present that i could ever have asked for!    

the night before CHRISTmas, navy style

*this post is not in my usual format since i cut and pasted it from my original file.  but this was a version of "the night before CHRISTmas" i wrote for my sailors on both uss stout and bainbridge.

Twas the night before Christmas, somewhere in the Med,
When “Taps, lights out” was heard, as passageways glowed red.
The night watch was busy standing their posts,
Diligently watching for any threat posed.
The Sailors were in berthings, exhausted from the day,
Dreaming of their families celebrating Christmas far away.

The bridge kept the helm, and I looked out aft,
As the stars above sparkled while the dark water churned past,
When out in the distance, I swore I heard bells,
What exactly it was, my eyes could not tell.
I called on the radio to report the strange sound,
But their radar showed nothing, no contacts to be found,
The full moon shone brightly, lighting up the sky,
As what I heard suddenly appeared to my eyes:
A sleigh pulled by reindeer, with Santa at the reins,
Which made me think the dark was playing tricks with my brain.
But the moonlight o’er the darkness, left absolutely no doubt,
That it really was Santa as he circled about.

Around the ship quickly, past the bridge he flew,
And I wondered if the bridge lookout saw him, too.
Yet no word was passed, from the radio, no sound,
As St. Nick and his reindeer came flying down.
Though flight quarters weren’t set, no flight crew in sight,
St. Nicholas and nine reindeer on the flight deck did light.

I stood there and stared, pinched my arm just to see,
If I had fallen asleep, and this all was a dream.
But as I pondered this unbelievable sight,
St. Nick stroked his beard, and put down his pipe.
He looked at me intently, and then gave a frown,
As he stood up and from his sleigh he climbed down.
“Young man,” he said to me, “I wonder if you might,
Explain to me why you’re on this ship Christmas Eve night?”

“Sir,” I replied, “I am a Sailor on post,
And our ship is deployed far away from our coast.”

His frown deepened further, as he looked at me and said,

“But this is Christmas Eve, you should be with family instead!”
The thought of my family brought a lump to my throat,
And I swallowed hard against tears as I zipped up my coat,

“Santa, I would much rather be home by my tree,
Watching my family unwrap presents, I miss them, you see,

But the nation, it counts upon Sailors like us,

To keep them all safe, and keep them safe we must.
Because there are those who would like to cause harm,
We’re here to stop them, so they’ve no need for alarm.
My shipmates and I, we all took an oath,
To support and defend, and with our best we’ll do both.”

His eyes welled with tears, as he wiped them away,
And he said, “Thank you, son.  I don’t know what else to say.

I really would like to tell the rest this as well,
And maybe leave gifts, and some treats, so do tell,
It is obvious you have no chimney, there’s none I can see,

Save those big smoke stacks, would those work for me?”

“Santa,” I replied, with a smile on my face, “Those go to turbines, and the engineers’ space,

And even if you could, there’s no fireplace inside,
So I think you’d be better off staying outside,”

He smiled and looked up, and then looked back at me,

And said, “Is there any kind of present they’d gladly receive?”

I closed my eyes and pictured Christmas back home,
As my family would be waiting for my call on the phone,

“Santa, I believe I can speak for the crew,

And I know exactly what they all would ask of you,

Go back and tell everyone that you see,
That our watch is our Christmas gift to them from the sea.”

He came to attention, and gave me a salute,
And said that he would do that, with love from the troops.
So he climbed back up, and sat in his sleigh,
And said those words heard that first Christmas Day.
“Peace on earth among all, I pray you will see,

And you no longer will have to spend Christmas at sea.
But until that day comes, please know that you,

Share mine and a nation’s utmost gratitude.”
He gave the reins a snap, and they took off like a light,
Just like a helo, lifting off in flight. 

And as I heard the 1MC call the lookout team away,

I heard him shout, “Merry Christmas to you all, and Anchors Aweigh!”

grave rolling st. nicholas

on the ship, i have been videoing readings of "the night before CHRISTmas," where people can read the book and i can burn it onto a dvd for them to send to their families.  it is truly one of my favorite CHRISTmas traditions.  the point of this post is not to get into the whole debate about "to santa, or not to santa," but rather to point out something that i noticed during the many times of hearing this story read.  are you ready?  here is a direct quote from the book, "he spoke not a word, but went straight to his work and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk, and laying a finger aside of his nose and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose."  did you see it?  i ask because after all the times i have read this poem, i never saw it until recently.  what did st. nicholas do?  or better yet, what didn't he do?  read it again.  "went straight to his work and filled all the stockings."  did you catch it?  that was all he did!  it didn't say he filled the room with presents, or decorated the CHRISTmas tree, or checked his list to make sure little johnny and susie got every gift that was on their list.  nope.  just filled some stockings.  nothing more, nothing less. 

i say this, because you have all heard me rant and rave about the materialistic idol worship service that CHRISTmas has become.  i hear pastors all the time preaching from the pulpit vilifying st. nicholas, or as he is commonly known in the common vernacular:  "santa claus" (coming from the dutch variation of st. nicholas sinterclaas.)  however, st. nicholas, or santa claus, is not the villain.  if you look at the historical account of st. nicholas, he lived in the late 200s and early 300s a.d.   he was the son of a wealthy couple who died, and left him a huge inheritance.  he was a very devout CHRISTian, and would use his wealth to help others, even after becoming a bishop in what is now modern day turkey.  the most famous story attributed to saint nicholas was the leaving of three bags of gold coins at the house of a poor man.  this money was to meant to be the dowry for his three young daughters, so that he could afford to have them married and them not be relegated to a life of prostitution.  the tradition was that he threw the bags through the window of the house for three consecutive nights, because he wanted the gift to remain anonymous so as to not embarrass the man.  on the third night, the man stood outside his house to try and find out the identity of the mysterious benefactor, so nicholas dropped the bag of coins down the chimney, which happened to land in one of the girls' stockings, which were hung by the fireplace to dry after washing them.  other accounts have him leaving coins or fruit in the shoes of children that were left outside the door to avoid tracking dirt from outside into the house.  this was traditionally held to have happened on december 6th, which is why much of the world celebrates st. nicholas day on decemeber 6th.  it wasn't until the poem, "a visit from st. nick," was published in 1822 in a newspaper in troy, ny, that they modern day figure of st. nicholas came into being.  the author, clement moore, who wished to remain anonymous at the time, wrote it as a fictional story to his children based upon the story of st. nicholas.  he himself was a clergyman and used historical facts to write the poem, such as st. nicholas having a white beard and dressing in red, as he was commonly shown in the orthodox icons.  he took some liberties in changing the date to coincide with CHRISTmas, but until then, st. nicholas was not associated with the holiday. 

so why the history lesson?  because i believe that if st. nicholas could see what his story has morphed into today, he would roll over in his grave.  this was a man who devoted his life to helping others, including sailors, which is why he is the patron saint of mariners.  he was a person who was not materialistic, but rather one who sought to help others with the gifts that God had given him.  that is a far cry from what santa claus and CHRISTmas represents in today's society.  but there is a debate technique called "setting up a straw man," in which a person sets up a decoy and attacks it, rather than attacking the actual problem.  this is the whole debate over santa claus.  you see, many people attack the "lie" of santa claus, and not what the lie represents.  many of the people who preach against santa claus have no problem with other make-believe games with their children.  how many dads have had sword-fights with their kids only to fall to their young knights' blows?  was the dad dead?  no!  he was pretending.  how many moms have sat at a tea party with their daughters and sipped pretend tea, telling them how good it was?  i know many santa claus deniers that have admitted to playing the tooth fairy game.  what is creepier?  a little fairy that loves children's teeth so much that they are willing to pay for them, or a man who gives gifts to children out of generosity?  but, like i said before, the purpose of this post is not to debate the game of santa claus.  because the game is not the problem.  yet we sit and whack away at the straw man that is santa claus, all the while ignoring the real problem:  greed and coveting.  why do we do this?  because it's easier to attack a fictional character as the culprit behind the problem that we create ourselves.  we are the culprits of greed. 

in the movie "fred claus," the statement is made that in the early 1900s, the average child asked for 3 presents, and today that list has grown to 27 gifts per child, and due to this increase, there was no way that santa claus could keep up with the demand and needed to step aside.  it's comical, but true.  there was a letter from the early 1900s to santa claus that was recently published, and the list was surprisingly simple and short.  the modern day phenomenon that is black friday, that everyone laments, was created by us.  it's easy to blame the merchants.  but yet, the real blame lies on us.  think about it, if the CHRISTmas lists of the early 1900s hadn't grown into the books that they have become, those children wouldn't have grown up expecting extravagant CHRISTmases, nor would they have passed that on to their children.  we are all born with the sin nature, meaning that we are all born wanting stuff.  and when that nature is fed, it grows.  that's why the Bible says to train up a child in the way he should go.  so when our kids begin becoming materialistic, we can either a) teach them the dangers of greed and want, or b) feed their greed and want and watch it grow to the point that we stab other parents trying to take the last ps4 at wal-mart on black friday because we have to get it for our kids or they won't have a good CHRISTmas.  so the problem is not an imaginary obese man in a red suit, it is the greed that has been unfairly associated with a man who devoted his life to giving to help others.

so what are we to do?  can we fight society?  no.  we can't stop the ebb and flow of the societal river.  but we can take a stand in our own lives and the lives of our children.  there is nothing wrong with giving gifts.  the gifts given to the CHRIST-child are a perfect example of this.  but when it comes to CHRISTmas and the traditions surrounding it, we can take that opportunity to teach our kids about contentment.  just because a kid gives you a list doesn't mean that you have to get them everything on it.  it doesn't mean that you have to go into debt to buy gifts that you can't afford.  it means that you take the time to teach your kids about what it means to be greedy, and the dangers of that mentality.  it means that you love your kids enough to tell them "no" to outrageous requests.  it means that you share in the magic of CHRISTmas with your children, by reading them fictional stories and decorating and engaging in family activities together such as making cookies and candies.  or better yet, how about our taking the story of st. nicholas, and teaching that to our kids, about giving to others less fortunate, whether that's packing a box for operation: CHRISTmas child, or buying a CHRISTmas meal for the family in your church that is struggling, or by pulling an angel off the angel tree at the mall and giving your kids the opportunity to share their CHRISTmas with an unknown child that is truly in need.  psychologists have even shown that a person who gives is happier than a person who gets.  in "a CHRISTmas carol," the ghost of CHRISTmas present shows ebeneezer scrooge the two children hidden underneath the bottom of his robe.  he says that their names are "ignorance and want," but to beware "ignorance" most, because on his forehead is written the word "doom."  our "want" has consumed us, but our "ignorance" of it will lead us to our doom.  a nation that is greedy will eventually consume itself.  judging by what we see every year in december, it doesn't seem we are far from it.