Christmas Thoughts (2009)

Christmas Thoughts (2009)

The muezzin of the infinite and light-emblazoned firmament
Marked the nightly vigils' silent and meditative hours
Of those wakeful, watchful shepherds, Scientific avatars,
Who pondered not dusty constellations of earth's deceptions,
But the higher lessons witnessed in God's refulgence,
Thus to behold the glow of that eldrich eastern star,
Herald of Jesus' nativity, Light's advent in the flesh.
That event was once and not to be repeated,
Yet for those whose receptive hearts wander wearily
Among the darkly lighted trails and travails of mortality
The promise of that holy dawn blesses all eternally.

Malignant Mithridatism

In at least one movie version of "A Christmas Carol" (wth Reginald Owen as Scrooge) the young Scrooge is a fairly normal, if somewhat unhappy, young man. The movie makes the point that his avarice, with its insidious and corrosive side effects, came on silent cat feet over many years until it had dissolved all his humanity and enslaved him under a cruel despot. He probably never realized something had taken possession of him. If error typically announced itself by kicking in our front doors and stomping rudely all over our mental homes with muddy hobnail boots we would certainly take the intruder by the scruff of its neck and throw it out on its keester. Except that evil more often comes politely, subtly, to the door of consciousness all smiles and a shoe-shine, with an appealing and seductive sales pitch, smoother than a hot cup of rich cocoa on a freezing winter night.

Setting a diligent and never-flagging watch is no task for the odd moment, but are we always cognizant of the terrible cost of not doing so? Not only do the little foxes spoil the vines, but as James observes (3:5) "Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth!" The slightest compromise with mortal mind is a very slippery slope whose dangers are too often obscured in tawdry blandishments. Our dear Master has admonished us ". . . what I say unto you I say unto all, Watch".

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,

from "Reluctance" by Robert Frost

We must also be alert that we do not allow ourselves to be bamboozled by the compromises of others, however much we might admire or respect them. We need to recognize a sandcastle when we see one, no matter how attracively caparisoned it may be. Quite by happenstance an exerpt from an old Sentinel dropped onto my desk. If I seem to be one who doesn't know when to simply give it a rest and leave my tired hobbyhorse to munch his oats peacefully in his stall, I can only say I would rather be condemned for protesting too much than too little and simply drifting along apathetically with the flow. I humbly recommend any reader's attention to the notice "From the Directors" in either the March 1977 Journal or March 5, 1977 Sentinel. My suggesting the value of context in a recent "poem" which touched on the now dreaded subject of full-text Bible lessons also seems to have been pre-validated by the 1977 notice. The sow's ears of grotesqueries and unjustified mutations, no matter how effusive the fulsome puffery which preceded them, should never be granted unquestioned silk-purse legitimacy.

"Tanta stultitia mortalium est"

Consciousness may be likened to a tractor (truck) pulling the freighted trailer of the body. Each trip which has progress as its desired destination will have a much happier and more uplifting ending if the driver (individual thought) keeps his eyes fixed undeviatingly on the road ahead (God and His spiritual and perfect creation), not on the trailer in the rear-view mirror. The trailer will always follow the leading of the tractor, so it does not need to be sedulously, and foolishly, watched, agonizingly tempting as furtive perusals might be. Just as the watched pot never comes to a boil, so the scrutinized body with its afflictions will not be improved. If one is dissatisfied with an inept ventriloquist, he doesn't correct this shortcoming by replacing or manipulating in some way the dummy.

As if driving forward while looking backward isn't risky enough, attempting to drive the truck from the trailer (i.e., using the material body as one's starting point and basis of thought), is even more foolhardy. One may think in his sweet innocency that no one could be that muzzy, but it can be confidently asserted that it has, alas, been tried. Not, of course, successfully tried--just tried. As Mrs. Eddy lovingly tells us, suffering or Science (and probably some of both) will get one back in the cab where he belongs and with God at the steering wheel of thought. "The sharp experiences of belief in the supposititious life of matter, as well as our disappointments and ceaseless woes, turn us like tired children to the arms of divine Love." (S&H 322: 26-29) It is thus that the tractor, and hence the trailer, will be directed to where they need to be and where, in fact, they have always been in their eternal spiritual perfection.

Note: The title, "What fools these mortals be", is from Seneca. Shakespeare's use of the expression in "A Midsummer-Night's Dream" is much better known.

A Gift to Ourselves and to Suffering Humanity

Among the many somber events preceeding Christ Jesus' crucifixion were the failure of the disciples, most notably Peter, to stay awake while with him at Gethsemane and Peter's denial shortly thereafter that he was a follower of Christ Jesus, a particularly painful moment in light of his vehement denial that he would ever abandon the Master. It is easy to "tsk tsk" these failings with perhaps a dash of smugness, but we might ask ourselves "Would I really have acted more courageously?" But then, a more basic question might be "Do I express enough real Christliness to have even been chosen as one of the twelve?" For myself, I'm pretty sure I know the regrettable answer.

Not very Christmasy musings, I agree, but it isn't the birth of the infant Jesus which is of so much importance as it is the life of Christ Jesus. Fourscore and ten of gift buying, wrapping, and opening, tree decorating, carol singing (inspiring and beautiful as many of them are), gourmandising, and jolly festivities won't bring one noticeably closer to demonstrating the Truth, Life, and Love Christ Jesus' works and words expressed. While we are perhaps carving another turkey, ham, or goose this holiday season would it not also be wise to carve out some quiet time in our busy loves to contemplate the object lesson Peter offers and be humbly thankful if we become worthy even to walk in that man's footsteps?

Note: St Louis, I think, inquired about the (unintentionally) obscure last line of the Thanksgiving poem. As I read Mrs. Eddy in Christ and Christmas, Sharon's rose is a reference to the Christ. There are a few Christmas carols which speak of the rose, but what is referred to varies. Herbert Howell's fine carol "A Spotless Rose" seems to refer to Christ Jesus, as does the old German carol "Es ist ein Ros' entsprungen". I emphasize, however, these are my quite possibly flawed readings of these carols and Mrs. Eddy. The carol "There is no Rose" seems to be about the Virgin Mary. The term "rose of Sharon" occurs in Song of Solomon (2:1), of all places, but appears to have no prophetic intent. There is also a general reference to the rose in Isaiah 35:1,2. It was obviously Mrs. Eddy's usage (as I understand it) I was hitching my little effort to. If this still doesn't clarify, to some extent anyway, the last line, I suggest having some sympathy for a well-intentioned poetaster.

The Old Drummer's Incessant Drumming

The Old Drummer's Incessant Drumming

His handle's Nick, Old Nick. Unwary gents
And ladies reap the tares he sows and eat
Their deadly grain. They pay their hard-earned pence
For pleasures false and hopes profane. 'Tis sweet.

For each seductive ware he substitutes
A foul delusion hid up perfumed sleeves.
Nick's jolly lollipops are sticky toots
He trumpets artfully as he deceives.

He's generously proffered full-text ease,
Not context stuffy tomes provide. His hol-
Low platitudes ring true, deaf ears to please,
While soporific fairy tales enthrall.

Who dote as well on sugar-coated lies
As soothing flaccid prayers--those cupboards bare--
Let louche caresses pass for sin's demise.
Thus such as these are guests within his lair.