05 January 2020

Carrying Christmas in my Heart ~ Twelfth Night

Happy Christmas and New Year Dear Reader,

Today I would look at the comedy of Shakespeare, written as entertainment to close the Christmas season and a tragedy hidden within it.  We are almost at the end of our journey where the focus has been on carrying Christmas in our hearts.  After we visit with some dear friends of mine tomorrow, we will move on to other matters, but we are not putting Christmas away this year.  We are going to carry it with us all year.

For now, let us consider the comedy of two siblings shipwrecked, separated, and supposing each other to be dead.  So far, it does not sound comical.  Then Viola disguises herself as a man to navigate the difficulties of nobility in a foreign society.  The tale that ensues is very witty and well-told (not by an idiot).  

The tragedy within the comedy is that someone has to hide where she is just to feel safe.  We create this in others through judgment, hatred, and prejudice.  Our obligation is just the opposite.  Our duty is to meet people where they are and be so filled with the love of Christ that we are able to show them love no matter where they are in the journey.

We do not put Christmas away.  We carry through twelfth night, one hundred and sixth night, and All Hallows Eve by showing our love and joy in Christ to everyone we encounter.  Every situation and circumstance has room for that love in it.  The very tragic ones need it the most.  As I write this Australia is in the midst of terrible expansive brush fires and the Middle East is boiling over; perhaps on the brink of war with The United States.  If there is a time for us to continue to carry hope brought by the Prince of Peace, it is now. 

As we turn the corner to the long dark of winter Dear Reader, let us remember that the light we need we carry with us.  The love we must show is never in short supply.  The world needs it clearly and purely.  There is always time for another Christmas song and I intend to keep singing them.  Please sing with me.

Another Christmas Song – Jethro Tull, Ian Anderson

Hope everybody’s ringing on their own bell, this fine morning.
Hope everyone’s connected to that long-distance phone.
Old man, he’s a mountain.
Old man, he’s an island.
Old man, he’s awaking – says,
“I’m going to call, call all my children home.”

Hope everybody’s dancing to their own drum this fine morning –
the beat of distant Africa or a Polish factory town.
Old man, he’s calling for his supper.
He’s calling for his whiskey.
Calling for his sons and daughters, yeah – calling, calling all his children round.

Sharp ears are tuned in to the drones and chanters warming.
Mist blowing round some headland, somewhere in your memory.
Everyone is from somewhere –
even if you’ve never been there.
So take a minute to remember the part of you, that might be the old man calling me.

How many wars you fighting out there, this Christmas morning?
Maybe it’s always time for another Christmas song.
Old man, he’s asleep now.
Got appointments to keep now.
Dreaming of his sons and daughters and proving, proving that the blood is strong.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a homeowner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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