The Exeter Times-Advocate, 1969-12-23, Page 19• • • ••• • .....
Christmas is hairy!
Times Established 1873
Advocate Established 1881
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CHRISTMAS .MESSAGE
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By REV. R. V. WILSON
Centralia United Church
A small child, with Christmas plans and preparations in
his mind, made an error in saying his prayers, and said,
"Forgive us our Christmases." It was an amusing mistake, yet
one which contained a truth in it, for there is the chance that
the meaning of the season is lost sight of in excitement and
confusion. There are indeed, some Christmases that need to
be forgiven.
1. There is the Christmas that does not survive. Many
people act as though they are glad when the occasion is all
over, but the spirit of Christmas was meant to be perpetual.
It is often remarked that greater friendliness prevails at this
season of the year; people exchange favours; prisoners are
treated more leniently. But if we can be considerate and kind
and polite now, why not all the time?
It is a common, although fatal, error to try to "make
up" for spiritual lapses by being extra nice for a little while.
We work a kind of secret deal, whereby we make amends
here for being negligent there. We donate to some worthy
cause, to salve our consciences for a misdemeanour that
bothers us. We are extra nice at Christmas to offset our
indifferent kind of life the rest of the year.
Instead of attempting to balance good against bad, we
ought to unify our life by bringing all of it up to the standard
of Christmas. We should cease to "observe" the Day by some
special service, but "keep it" always by maintaining the
Christian spirit of goodwill all the time.
2, There is the Christmas kept within our own circle
only. The joys of the season are multiplied when we have
first given to the needy at home and abroad; when we have
done something to brighten the drab lives of less fortunate
folk.
In "The Vision of Sir Launfal" we are told of a wealthy
knight who dreamed of seeking and finding the Holy Grail.
Setting forth on his quest, he is accosted by a dirty beggar at
the gate, and flinging him a coin, he rides on. Instantly
everything changes. He becomes ill clad, on foot, in the midst
of a wintry storm. The trees have lost their leaves, and all is
barren. Later on, he is moved by pity to share his last crust of
bread with the same beggar, but this time he does it with full
awareness of what it means to be hungry and cold and poor.
And the cup which he gives the thirsty tramp becomes the
Golden Grail of his dreams. 'Ps not what we give, but what
we share, for the gift without the giver is bare."
Those who have experienced the grace of God in Christ
will not fail to be generous to others in want, no matter
where they happen to live.
3. Another Christmas that needs forgiveness is the one
which is merely external. Christmas is the Christian version of
a once pagan Roman festival of feasting and carousing to
celebrate the turning north again of the sun. The Church
sought to adapt this gay period to holy purposes, and we
should keep it on a high level, by offering our best to the
Master.
We should seek to understand the deep spiritual
significance of the occasion and not get carried away by the
commercial and festivity aspects which are but the tinsel
adorning the tree.
4. Finally, there is the Christmas without Christ. It
seems odd, but the Very One whose birthday is being
celebrated, can be lost and forgotten. In our quest for more
business, we can miss seeing the Lord of glory.
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Our Church Services must not take the place of service.
Dr. Fosdick once shocked his congregation by preaching on
the subject, "The Peril of Worshipping Jesus." It was his way
of bringing home the fact that praying to Jesus, kneeling to
Jesus, giving to Jesus, must not get in the way of living for
Jesus every day. It is alright to have our vision upon the
housetop, but it must not prevent us frdm hearing the knock
on the door which calls us to help someone in need.
Though Christ a thousand times
In Bethlehem be born,
If He's not born in thee,
Thy soul is all forlorn
Let us resolve to keep the Christmas spirit employed all
the year round to think of others outside our own close
circle; to keep it in the heart as well as outwardly; to bring
the Lord Jesus into our festivities. Then we shall not have to
ask forgiveness for our Christmases.
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DRAWN BY THERESA VAN WEEN -- J.A.D. McCURDY SCHOOL
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giblets are in a nice little bag
tucked inside the frozen carcass.
I can't quite believe that they
have ever been real turkeys that
have walked and eaten and
fought and mated.
Getting the tree was the next
step. You went out into the
country with your kid brother,
walked half a mile into the bush
and selected a beautiful spruce,
one cutting, the other watching
for the farmer. You dragged and
carried it, sometimes two miles,
home. There was a great sense of
satisfaction.
Today we go down to a
Christmas tree lot, fumble
through a pile of half-frozen,
crumbly Scotch pines, select the
least misshapen, take it home,
and when it thaws, discover that
the frozen side has a gap the
length of your arm in it. This is
after forking over a small
ransom. There is a great sense of
dissatisfaction.
Decorations in those days
were simple, inexpensive, but
just right. Strings of red paper
bells, venerable but cheery.
Strings of red and green curled
crepe paper all over the house.
The tree itself had "icicles" and
some . colored balls. A few
wealthy people had colored
lights. On top was a home-made
angel.
Today, on decorations alone,
some people spend what would
have fed a family in those days
for two months. Fancy candles;
store-bought wreaths of ersatz
holly; colored lights everywhere,
inside and out; trees tnat are
almost hidden from the naked
eye by festoons of fribbery.
Buying gifts in those days was
simple, compared to the frenetic
business it is today. There was
scarcely any money then, and
everybody needed something. So
it was long underwear, or a
hand-knit sweater, socks or
gloves, maybe a few real
luxuries, like a 59-cent game of
snakes and ladders, or a book.
Ten dollars didn't go far, even
then.
Today people almost go
around the bend trying to find
something for other people who
have everything, or can buy it.
Nobody makes a gift. They buy
them. They haven't time,
because of the "Christmas rush".
Clothes that don't fit.
Eight-dollar toys that last five
minutes. A hundred dollars
worth of ski equipment that
isn't the right kind.
Christmas Eve then was carols
around thee piano, mother
stuffing the turkey, kids to bed
early quivering with excitement.
Stocking-stuffing time for the
adults. A quiet chat, with a little
despair that there wasn't money
for skates and new winter coats,
and things like that.
Today it's frantic last-minute
shopping and wrapping of gifts,
entertaining people who have
managed to finish their rat-race
(we got to bed at 4 a.m. last year
after receiving carollers and
others, and, believe it or not, we
had frozen chicken pies for
Christmas dinner.)
Hope I'm not getting
maudlin, but Christmas used to
be merry. Now, it's just hairy.
DRAWN BY CAROLYN PERRY — EXETER PUBLIC SCHOOL
As the getting-ready-
for-Christmas tempo around our
house increases from mild panic
to wild hysteria, I can't help
thinking a long way back: to the
times when Christmas was an
experience to be anticipated
with thrilling delight, to be
savoured when it arrived, rather
than the inane, exhausting
scramble it has become in these
affluent times.
First real indication of
Christmas was the buying of the
turkey. In my home town, there
was an annual Turkey Fair, late
in November. Exciting for
youngsters. Farmers brought
their turkeys to town,
fresh-killed and plucked, but
with heads, feet and guts still
there. Housewives wandered
among the turkeys, looking for
the perfect bird, pinching,
poking, sniffing. Then it was
hung in the woodshed, by the
feet.
At the right time, it was
brought in, the pin-feathers
plucked with care, head and feet
chopped off and guts removed.
Then the scent of home-made
dressing filled the air. It was a
.real turkey.
Today, we elbow and shove
our way along the meat counter,
gazing at a row of pallid,
yellow-white lumps wrapped in
plastic, legs neatly tucked in.
They all look the same, and they
all taste the same (wet paper),
but we are secure in the
knowledge that we don't have to
disembowel them, that they are
"eviscerated" and that the