Merry Christmas - May I Say That?

 

Somewhere in the convoluted course of my annual traditions, I can't seem to start my Christmas columns until I get that first Christmas card from my Aunt Bob from north of Edmonton. Or till I have heard about someone's Christmas staff party when Max from Accounting made a complete a_s of himself trying to kiss the water cooler.

On the other hand, it is easy to write about this "most wonderful time of the year" when I see fields and trees (and my mudroom) all covered in snow. And it doesn't hurt my traditional, festive spirit to be buoyed with the recent news that the term, "Merry Christmas" (with an emphasis on the 'Christmas' part), is making a comeback.

For years, there has been a growing resentment—only part of the multiculturalism disaster—against anything religious to do with Christmas. Somehow the secularists, the atheists, and the New Agers have waged a war against the well-documented birth of arguably history's greatest figure. (Note: I am intentionally leaving out any Biblical reference, at least at this point.)

I would like to see these same people try that in Iran or Somalia or Sudan. I can see it now: "No more 'Merry Mohammedmas' for us." I thought so: They would last one night before they donated their respective heads to charity.

There is no question that secular effects come from secular causes – in other words, in a culture that continuously de-emphasizes the Scripture as its basis for law, marriage, and economics, it's bound to come up empty when it comes to celebrating the arrival of the One that that very Scripture is all about. The logical flow doesn't leave me, that is, one leads to the other—that I understand.

What I fail to grasp is simply this: Why mess with something as innocuous and upbeat as celebrating Christmas? Why the angry urge to re-name it, then re-package it? If there was a religious curfew, say, like Ramadan, imposed by wild-eyed Christians, I think you would have a case. Or if there was a Crusade-like edict, eg., "celebrate Christmas our way or lose your head," I would side with the secularists.

But none of the above is happening, or will be happening. (Just as a side note: If you want to worry about religious rules being crammed down your throat, please monitor the growing Islamic threat seeping throughout Europe, and wait for its arrival on our shores within the next generation.)

Meanwhile, back in Bethlehem...

Christmas, more than Valentine's Day, Groundhog Day, Canada Day, and such, has taken the brunt of the secular mindset, and I sincerely think this is tragic. Even the pronouncing of the word (sounds more like it's named after someone called Chris) really doesn't sound like one is using the name of Christ—if, in fact, that is the real issue.

In one of life's more delicate ironies, the name of Christ is used constantly and repeatedly, on a daily basis, but never in an innocent and upbeat way. If you missed my point, please make someone stub their toe, hit their head, or jam their finger.

If someone wants to wish me a "Happy Holiday," or a "Merry Yuletide," I will thank him. I will regard that as a genuine seasonal greeting. I won't demand they wish me the only approved winter cheer. That would be imposing my standards (or even convictions) on them. But I would expect the same courtesy, namely, don't make me out to be a religious nutcase, or turn it into a criminal offense, because I choose to celebrate this grand season with the word "Christ" on my lips.

Here's a proposal for you: You may keep your Santa Claus, just let me keep my Christ; you may lose control with your Christmas spirits, just let me keep under control with a balanced Christmas spirit; you may want to view this time of year as an opportunity to rack up some serious debt, just let me invest in friends and family.

And by the way, have a very Merry Christmas.

Ode to a Deer

 

Years ago, when I was in a much simpler mindset, I ran over a possum. Not only did I kill the thing, I actually went home and—get this—wrote a poem about it. I felt so terrible about my misdeed that I even "humanized" it; that is, I gave it human qualities, thus making that road kill equal to vehicular homicide.

Times have changed and I can assure you that I no longer write poems about animals I kill.

Case in point: A few days ago, I met a deer on my way to work. It wasn't a formal meeting, but it was a final one, at least for the deer. I didn't even have a nano-second to stop, likely a blessing, considering the weather conditions at 6:30 AM. Had I braked, for example, I may have done some very serious damage to my truck, my body and someone's ditch.

It has been a busy process since then, what with autobody shops, insurance adjusters and brokers, plus a visit to the local RCMP detachment. I don't know how it will all work out, but my truck looks really beat up and it may have to be written off.

Since my emigration to Alberta years ago, I have developed a different, more balanced, take on wildlife. In a domestic sense, I have discovered the supreme value of cats (mousers, Horace, they eat mice). I have also seen the futility of a cow not calving for a year or two; we now call that hamburger.

Outside the fence, I repeat the following phrase, with inter-changeable parts: "The only good coyote is a dead coyote." (The inter-changeable parts, for the record, would be replacing the word 'coyote' with the word(s) fox, badger, or gopher.)

I like comics and cartoons as much as the next 56-year-old, but when an animal is given all the same qualities that a human has, then we have gone too far. Mankind is at the top of the food chain; we are the stewards of the natural and living resources beneath us, and we should take that role very, very seriously. That is both a Biblical tenet as well as a scientific one (and those two mindsets usually go hand in hand). If it was carried out the way it should be, our world would be both kinder and safer.

Case in point: when a punk drags a dog down the middle of the street in Smalltown, Alberta, he should be nailed; and when an oil corporation inadvertently kills hundreds of ducks in their tailing pond, there needs to be some sort of accountability. We simply need to take care of our animals.

One of the confusing facets of a spiraling culture (like ours) is that we de-humanize mankind and "in-humanize" animals. The former leads to the murder of unborn babies, the abuse of women and children, whereas the latter creates a senseless and unworkable equality. In other words, the heartless killing of an animal is not on the same level as the mindless killing of a human. There needs to be rules and restrictions, just different rules and restrictions.

Let me re-state this: I believe we as humans must treat all wildlife humanely, whether they are pets or prey. Feed them well or kill them quickly, respectively. That would be a summation of my position. As you know, I don't hunt, but I don't begrudge the joy of hunting to anyone. When the natural cycle of hunter and hunter, be it human and animal or animal and animal, is out of whack, you have an imbalance, not unlike the one that southern Montana has, with wolves and deer.

The fences and overpasses along some of our major highways are steps in the right direction, albeit an expensive one, in preserving and protecting our wildlife from unnecessary death. Even so, deer, moose, and bear remain significant road kill (and railway kill, for that matter) throughout Alberta.

So I killed a deer the other day. I don't feel good or bad about it, just bothered by it. Bothered by everything that I have to go through, what with all the legal and financial fuss that has followed. But at least I got more fodder for a column out of it. At least I'm not writing a poem.

Big Little Israel

As I write this, friends of mine are winging their way to Israel for one of those trips-of-a-lifetime. Had I been offered the same opportunity, I would have declined. Holy Land tours are quite the thing among evangelicals "pilgrims" (people like me), but there are too many "loose cannons" (pun gleefully intended) in that part of the world for my liking.

By the time you finish reading this, I will likely have finished reading something myself, namely, a book whose premise is as follows: When America turns its back on Israel (read: sides with one of her many enemies) some physical disaster takes place in the Lower 48. That seems to be a stretch until you read all the overwhelming evidence. I only wish there was a newspaper out there with some courage and integrity that would pass along this information.

Then there is the best prime minister in Canadian history (in my personal opinion)—that would be Stephen Harper, Maurice—who made it very clear that he (and Canadians, by extension) will defend Israel no matter what, regardless of who is against him.

And lastly, Israel has invited the thirty-three Chilean miners over for Christmas cheer, in light of their renewed interest in God. That would suggest some connection between God and the Holy Land, methinks. Sixty-nine days in an underground pit can do wonders for one's awareness of things spiritual. There's even talk that this offer may extend to fifty-five others: their immediate and extended family members.

I don't know if it was me or what, but Israel seemed to be very much in the news these past few days. Of course, there is the negative side, where there is hardly a day or a week that Iran isn't threatening to turn Israel into a parking lot, but I won't grace those imbecilic rantings to even anything more than a passing comment.

I have a strong bias towards Israel (how'd you guess?), even though I am not Jewish. I don't even use the word "jew" as a verb-- as in, "I want to jew his price down." In fact, I hardly know any Jews, unless you count Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Moses, and David. I only know them through their written epics, with some fairly thorough investigation of their respective lives, warts and all. I should add at this juncture a slight caveat to my non-war bent (from last week): I do enjoy reading about Israel's present-day heroics, especially in the spy department. I am so amazed that a country so small can do so much clever damage to so many fiends with so few casualties of their own.

A recent email laid out in no uncertain terms the disproportionate number of Jews that have won Nobel Prizes, especially when compared to those, say, of the Muslim culture. If memory serves me correct, I believe it was something like 165-5. I would venture to say that no other nation has produced winners like Israel, ever—and that is all the more remarkable because they have only been a nation, this time around, since 1948.

The scrub land that they were presented with by Great Britain has become a veritable Garden of Eden (though there is no direct connection with that Garden and Israel: it actually was in what we know as southern Iraq). The ability of the Jews to turn any little thing into a big thing, any weak thing into a strong thing is beyond my comprehension. You might say they have the true "Midas touch" at every level—be it academics, economics, agriculture, and technology.

Even as a war machine (again, as much as I hate war, I recognize its place), Israel is completely unlike any other country. One scrawny country of a few million has fended off many countries of many more millions, time after time after time. How they do it, I cannot say. If Israel was a horse, I'd bet on it every time. If it was a neighbour, I'd have the best sleep ever. But it's neither horse nor neighbour, just a great country that needs our support as much as possible. 

You may read here in months to come even more favourable copy about Israel. Or you may want to read another Book about Israel's incredible past, challenging present, and breath-taking future.

Remembering the Cost

 

Unlike some of my sons, I don't watch war movies. Ditto for books about warfare of any stripe (no pun intended). Throw in any show about the Holocaust, for that matter—I'm just not into it. I suppose that makes me a wimp of sorts, but I can live with that.

Beyond the queasiness of blood and gore, there is a measured conviction on my part of the futility and anguish of war that really gets to me. And any medium that trivializes war and peace, is evil. That would be evil, as in E-V-I-L.

And, in light of the Remembrance Day celebrations that will take place in two days, my thoughts are focused on war of any kind—be it on a global scale, such as the Muslims versus the rest of us; at a country level, such as Iraq; or even gang warfare in Calgary.

War a horrible reality, so to pretend it shouldn't or doesn't exist is the depth of ignorance. If the heroes of the the major world wars hadn't stepped up to do their duty, we'd all be eating sushi in our brown shirts, with a sickle and a sword on our flag.

War, or at least the propensity for war, is as close as family—husband versus wife, sibling rivalry, parent-child conflict. To think that fighting and disputes are simply out there somewhere and overseas is foggy thinking at best. We are at war with each other because we are at war with ourselves.

One of the most unusual oxymorons (no, Maurice, that's not a stupid ox) is a "religious war." If you have what the Scriptures call true religion, there is no place for violence or bloodshed. That's why the Crusades, in my limited understanding, were a debacle at every level. Conquest in the name of Christian, blood because of Bible: People, don't let the repeated lies of history fool you.

So now, in two days, we celebrate "the war to end all wars." A poppy here, a minute of silence there, but in all reality we are just going through the motions. I say that kindly and I say that personally, because I am as guilty as anyone of not really understanding what these men and women suffered so I can enjoy peace.

With everything so plentiful and so peaceful, it is truly next to impossible to appreciate the sacrifice of those who died to make it happen. How do we teach historical gratitude? (That's a question every parent wishes an answer for.) I'm not sure, but I think an accurate war documentary – as opposed to a war movie - might be a good place to start.

Even regionalized news broadcasts might be a step in the right direction. I know I have dealt with this before, so that's almost the extent of my commentary. But some sort of appropriate exposure that shows the horrors of life in Iraq, Somalia, the Congo, yet without the glorification of victory--and without the (usual) bias against the United States--would be a start.

With Thursday being Remembrance Day, what should we be in fact remembering? Obviously, we should remember the grandfathers and great-grandfathers that gave their lives and their limbs for us. We should remember that this wonderful country called Canada is worth fighting and dying for, and not to waste the opportunities at our disposal.

And we should likewise remember that there is a war zone in the heart of each one of us, and to keep it in check—so that the war out there never becomes the war in here. It's good to know who the real enemy is.

You see, the greatest casualty of war may not be those who died. It may be those who lived, but forgot the cost of freedom.