One of the things I love about Christmas is the power of story which runs through the season.  It’s like a layered cake with so many different flavors, sweet tastes and textures.

In my family we feast on this cake almost from the moment the Thanksgiving feast ends.  Some of the layers are weighty and dense, serious literary endeavors like  A Christmas Carol by Dickens or Little Christmas by George Macdonald.  The reading out loud of one or both of these is a sacred tradition for my family.  Others are light and fluffy but also very tasty and satisfying; like White Christmas or Muppet Christmas Carol.  These also we partake of without fail each year.   We also sometimes have time for It’s a Wonderful Life, Charlie Brown Christmas, Miracle on 34th street and the Grinch.

Then there are the multitude of smaller sprinkles throughout the cake, things like Frosty, Rudolph, Santa, Christmas Elves and so forth which we dip in and out of through the season.

But it is not just these stories that make Christmas what it is.  It is also the stories that we are creating as a family by partaking of these stories.  The cake we make is our cake, as we eat it together.    Sure there are times when one or a few partake together, but for many of these events we gather all nine of us together.  I insist everyone from youngest to oldest sit and listen while I read Christmas Carol.  My oldest daughter insists we all watch White Christmas together.

This year, I was noticing, as we decorated our tree together (another tradition) how much of story there is in our tree as well.  Most of our decorations (of which there are many) tell some kind of story.   I snapped a few pictures for you this year.  Here’s a just a few chapters of the Pastormac Family Story.

For those of you who’ve never met him, this is Frankenpine.  He is our hybrid artificial Christmas tree.  He came our way when a local Nursery went out of business, selling all their artificial Christmas Trees at a steal.  We joined forces with some friends of ours and listed these trees on ebay (when I had my ebay business).  This one tree could not be sold because it was not a complete tree.  It was instead one artificial tree with no top, and a completely different species of  artificial tree on the top. He leans dangerously to the side because the stand he sits in is for yet another tree.  He is pre-lit and every year is a hold-your-breath moment to see which bulbs light and which ones don’t.  He’s a misfit, like Rudolph and the gang and we love him.  I am also amused by the idea of a nursery selling artificial trees and artificial trees coming in various species.  Until Frankie, we always had real trees, but there is so much story and character to Frank, they we haven’t truly missed our real trees.

The items which decorate Frankenpine also tell their own stories.

This year, my daughter Sweet Lee put a present on the tree because Bing Crosby keeps singing to us to please put presents on the tree when he comes home for Christmas. Yep, he really does.

We have a number of Angels given to us by our girls' former choir director whose middle name was Angel.

My wife hates snow. But she has a collection of snowman ornaments. Go figure.

We have good friends that give us Christmas Ornaments they make themselves every year without fail. It's a cool tradition and this is one of my favorite.

Stockings are an important part of our tradition. Every member of the family has their own stocking. (My wife's of course has a snowman on it.)

These mittens are the size of Sweet-an-lo and Sweet-Lee when the older was three and the younger a tiny baby. (Now they are 19 and 16!)

We brought the queen(one of our two ethiopian children) home in 2007 and had to leave Bear behind. This ornament was the only way he celebrated that first Christmas with us.

Now he's actually here. Much better!

A wedding present, 1989, the year we got married. It's the alumni Chapel on UNM where we actually did get married.

And I bought this our first Christmas together.

Since then, each year I try to buy one ornament which reflects something from the year. This was the year gas hit 4.00 a gallon!

And this was last year when I started working at the Apple Store and consequently eating lunch frequently at McCalister's deli, which put this ornament out that year.

Everyone in our family has an ornament with their name on it. This includes birds, cats, dogs, and anyone who happens to drop by when we're in the mood.

We have ornaments from my childhood as well. This one is from Thailand where I grew up son of a Peace Corp doctor.

My Wife's second best friend (I'm presuming to be her first best. painted this for her. It got broken, but we hang it every year anyway. It's very special to her.

Every year, the same ornament is always the last one to be placed.  After the beads, after the ornaments, tinsel, after the roast beast when all the who’s down in whoville–no wait, that’s not my family.  Where was I?  Oh yeah, AFter the beads, the ornaments and tinsel, we place the last ornament.  Every year a different child does it.  We’ve followed a very strict order from youngest to oldest and then back again, through the years.   This final ornament is a reminder to us of the story which anchors all the other stories.  In our family, we feel no qualms about feasting on the Christmas stories of legend and myth.  However, the truth is we gorge ourselves on these stories with full awareness that each of these layers is only an attempt to get at the true story.

I love stories, in part, because I believe all stories are a quest for the one Great Story; the story of the universe, the beautiful love story, sacrifice story, adventure story, and Christmas story which all other stories strive to become.  I am speaking of course of the Gospel which begins with The Christmas Story (no not the “shoot your eye out one.”) as recorded in the Gospels by Matthew, Mark and Luke (and in a different but equally true way by John.)    This is the story which even a pre-christian C.S. Lewis said was one of great power, and to which his friend Tolkien (according to legend) replied ,”Well yes, but the great difference between this story and all others is that it is true.”

So, each year on top of Frankenpine, above all the other stories, watching over us as we read, and sing and feast, sits our final ornament, high above us, proclaiming by it’s presence just as her real counterparts did so many years ago and more recently even a comic strip character with a blanket recalled:

"Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. "

We are deeply saddened to announce that Steve Jobs passed away today,” read a statement by Apple’s board of directors. “Steve’s brilliance, passion and energy were the source of countless innovations that enrich and improve all of our lives. The world is immeasurably better because of Steve. His greatest love was for his wife, Laurene, and his family. Our hearts go out to them and to all who were touched by his extraordinary gifts.”

“I’m truly saddened to learn of Steve Jobs’ death. Melinda and I extend our sincere condolences to his family and friends, and to everyone Steve has touched through his work.

Steve and I first met nearly 30 years ago, and have been colleagues, competitors and friends over the course of more than half our lives.

The world rarely sees someone who has had the profound impact Steve has had, the effects of which will be felt for many generations to come.

For those of us lucky enough to get to work with him, it’s been an insanely great honor. I will miss Steve immensely. “

– Microsoft cofounder Bill Gates

I’m pondering…writing a blog.

On the one hand, a BLOG seems so trendy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not really opposed to trends and I’ve been known to hop on the occasional bandwagon as adroitly as anyone. But come on! A BLOG? Everyone’s got a BLOG. (I was going to say everyone and their dog, but that’s awfully cliche for a BLOG. (See, that’s one thing I’m pondering, can I even do a BLOG without revealing my horrible tendencies towards triteness and cliche (Not to mention my incredibly annoying habit of overusing the wonderfully clarifying parenthesis), although without having actually done the research I’m sure a quick google would probably reveal at least a dozen sites ostensibly produced by a beloved Fido or Rover, or perhaps a feline Fluffy.))) But then I just tell myself: Buck up; nothing ventured, nothing gained, take the plunge, dive right in, grab the bull by the horns and see which way the cookie bounces.)

So as I ponder, I wonder, (hey! how come those two words: ponder and wonder don’t rhyme?) what would I even put in a blog. (I also ponder whether it’s correctly BLOG or blog.)

I could talk about something I’m reading.

Reading: I’m pretty much always reading. Although these days I include listening to books on my Ipod (Product placement here.) as reading. I know, it’s cheating. Like you I tend to think that there is something definably better and smarter about holding the hard copy in your hand while you read.

Well except when you’re reading a blog,

or when you’re driving.

For some reason passengers, angry motorists and the occasional scurrying pedestrian all seem to nod approvingly when I put down the book and insert those little earbuds in my ears instead. Apparently they have somehow avoided hearing about the as-yet unnoticeable damage those little buds are causing to my ears. Or perhaps they don’t care just as long as my my eyes still work and are being put to use avoiding running over fluffy and fido (who ought to be off the streets working on their own blogs and not interrupting my reading time!)

One of the many thing I am reading in the old variety with paper and a cover, is A.J. Jacobs book, The Know It All about his quest to read the entire Encyplaedia Britannica. Interesting book full of interesting facts, but somehow all I can think to say about it right now is: Did you know that the philosopher Descartes had a fetish for women with crossed eyes?

Maybe I should just make my reading interests a sidebar.

Ponder, ponder: I could talk about myself. I think that’s what most Blogs are for:

Myself: I’ve been warned by other Bloggers not to reveal actual identities of myself or family as it tends to invite oddities like people with strange fetishes, which makes me wonder about Descartes web surfing habits. It also makes me wonder if the web has produced a whole slew of superhero Bloggers with secret identities. Anyway, some of my friends call me Pastormac. This is because I am a pastor and I use a macintosh. See? simple.

Actually that’s a nice story but really it’s because I thought it sounded cool and I talked them into it. Most still just call me by my Christian name (although what is more Christian than a name with Pastor in it?)and refuse to use my superhero name, pastormac. I have to be honest about that on this blog because my closest friends, none of whom call me pastormac, are the only ones likely to ever read this Blog!

Well, in case you tragically stumbled on this website, perhaps after googling Descartes and fetish, without already knowing me, and perversely made it this far, let me break it down for you with a minimum of parenthesis.

I am a father of 5: Two girls followed by three boys. I’ll have to come up with superhero identities for them in another blog. Suffice it to say for now that 5 kids is less work than you might think. That is, if you’re the kind of person who thinks in extreme hyperbole and equates caring for five kids to, say, performing brain surgery at the same time you cut a diamond, run for President of the United States, read the Encyclopaedia Britannica, and fix the Social Security Crisis. It’s slightly less work than that. Without my wife’s wonderful mothering skills, it would indeed be overwhelming. You can check out my wife’s blog (I’ll let you know when our dog starts one) for more details on the family.

We are in the process of adopting two more: From Ethiopia. A girl and a boy we think. I suspect I will ponder quite a bit on this in future blogs.
We’ve already put in about 7000 dollars into the process and have about 15 thousand more including travel and such. Pray for us in this process.

I am a pastor: I am one of five pastors, what most of you would call an Associate Pastor. Along with generally sharing in the shepherding of the flock, I teach about half the sermons. I bet you never would have guessed I like to talk! (And yes, I do talk in parenthesis too!) Here’s my church website (oops, there goes my secret identity!).

My faith: I believe in the real historical Jesus who is really God in the flesh, that he really died and actually rose again to objectively save us from our literal sins. Jesus Christ is my closest companion and my Lord. I’m sure future ponderings will inevitably include aspects of this. Did I mention I’m a preacher?

Anchors Away Ministry: A ministry I developed to help people overcome deceptions and build their faith. I provide resources like conferences, counseling and small group study materials.

Well, that’s me I guess. Ponder, ponder. I could talk about politics, but that might not make me popular since I’m in that 1/3 of the population who actually thinks President Bush is doing a good job!

So, after all this pondering I discover I’ve posted my first blog and all about my ponderings. I think I’ll do it again some time.

At any point along the way that you would like to comment, please do so, if only to provide me assurance that someone else is out there and I’m not stuck in some Twilight Zone of the Blogland pushing the apple key over and over yelling, Where is everybody, please, Is anybody out there…

In future blogs, I plan to ponder many things. Some serious, some silly, and the occasional obscure twilight zone reference, but all, I hope, at least a bit interesting. Still, if I only amuse myself that wouldn’t be the first time for that either.

Well, at this point, I’ll say good night to the only two people even possibly still reading this blog!

Good Night Pastormac’sAnn, Princess of my Heart, dawn of my days and shining star of my nights.

Good Night Mom. I’ll call you!

Please feel free to comment on them just as you would any other blogs, especially as I probably won’t bring over the old blog comments and so they will be lonely without comments.  Although I think I will make my own comments of new thoughts or changes since the original blog, kind of updates.  But in this case a blog which only has comments from the author is patently pathetic, so if you love me at all you’ll save me from this by posting your own comment!

Anyway, I’ll start at the very beginning (a very good place to start.  When you read you begin with A,B,C, when you sing you begin with…name that musical!)  So the first one (after this one which isn’t really a rerun but more of a commercial for the rerun–speaking of pathetic!) will be my very first blog.  Expect it tomorrow sometime (I know you can hardly wait!).

Jonathan seemed to be enjoying the awkward silence which followed, only reluctantly breaking it when the characteristic laugh forced itself from his broadly grinning mouth.  He clapped Walter on the back, who grimaced at the act, and laid a hand on Kati’s shoulder, who seemed none the happier, while declaring, “I knew it.  I just knew you guys would hit it off fabulously.”

With this cheerfully delusional comment, Jonathan strode off inviting them by gesture to join him.  When neither of them followed he looked back and upon seeing their faces was able to say only, ”See, there it is.  You are like two peas in a pod, looking at me identically like that, mouth open wide, shock across your faces,” before collapsing into such a paroxysm of laughter that tears ran down his face.

“You are an infuriating man, Jonathan” grumbled Walter, collecting his bags to follow Jonathan.

“Your grasp on reality is even more tenuous than it used to be Jonny.”  Kati laid emphasis on the Jonny as if to correct Walter’s jonathan, and to show her closer, more deserved connection.  This did not escape a barely recovering Jonathan who was somehow so amused by this show of possession that it started him all over again.

Walter sighed, “The difficulty of course is that we’re stuck here, until he’s composed himself.  I gather he’s here to pick you up as well?”

“You too?” she answered, beginning to be amused herself, despite herself by both the situation and the way Jonathan so often ended up in control of situations while trying so hard to avoid any responsibility at all.

Silence. While they stood there, Kati studied Walter.  He was not an unpleasant man to look at.  He was not only a handsome man, but a sort of regality attended him, a bearing of nobility even.  Despite her encounter he didn’t look like an angry or cruel man.  The lines of his face were soft and elegant.  He glanced her way, surprised she was looking at him and in that moment of surprise she saw sorrow.  In a blink it changed to confusion, consternation, and then settled into the controlled, slightly haughty look which he mostly wore.  She decided that the first look, the one caught in surprise, was the unguarded one, the genuine uncalculated Walter.

Then in that moment Kati decided to try again, or rather, to give him another chance.

“I think it’s worse than that.”

He looked puzzled, “What do you mean?”

“You own a farm?”

“Yes, but I don’t see…”

“An unusual one?”

“Well, yes one of a kind I believe.”

“Right, well, Jonathan came not only to pick me up, but to show me this unusual farm.  So you see, we must not only ride together, but I think he’s some idea of our spending the day together.  I always believe in making the best of whatever comes my way and right now that appears to be you…so…truce?”

Walter looked pained, but nodded, “Truce.”

They watched Jonathan a few more moments,as he seemed to be gathering himself, waving at them to wait taking a deep breath and then, just as he seemed about to be ready to go, he looked up at them and immediately collapsed again in helpless giggles.

“Really!” said Kati, shaking her head, shifting her weight and straightening her dress.

Walter sighed again and said, “It doesn’t really matter you know.”

“What’s that?”

“Making the best of what comes your way.  It doesn’t really matter.”

“Are you saying we should make the worst?”

“No, not that.  We must do our best of course.  I’m just saying what comes comes, and it really doesn’t matter.  If destiny smiles on you, well then enjoy it, but if you happen to be one of the unlucky few who are cursed…”

“What nonsense you are talking!  You believe you are cursed, some kind of voodoo or Shaman?”  Kati forgot about Jonathan, her discomfort, in fact everything else for a moment at this new game unfolding before her.

“Well, no not in any way you’re suggesting.  I don’t mean cursed really.  I just mean destiny smiles on some of us, like our friend Jonathan there, and on some of us it well…”  He trailed off.

“Well if you really know Jonny, you know that he makes his own destiny.  So do we all.”

“That’s not what he says.”

“Oh, I know what he says, but it doesn’t mean he believes it.  And what about you?  From what I understand you are born into a prosperous family, own your own farm… you don’t look to be hurting to me.”

Walter sighed again, an affectation Kati now realized was well practiced. “Oh very propserous, and a vast fortune just waiting for me to take it.  Just reach out and it’s all mine. “

“Indeed?  A vast fortune”

“Oh yes, in this very town, I have but to sign the papers and I own it.”

“Own what?”

“The town.  All of it.  The land, the likely gold mines, the farms…all of it.”

“Destiny seems to not only be smiling, but quite gleeful, like our friend over there.” pointing at Jonathan who, as if on cue, doubled over again in laughter.

“hmmm, yes.  But also like our friend there, being smiled on and laughed at, are not at all the same.”

“Alright, alright, “Said Jonathan breathlessly finally ready, “let’s go.  This argument isn’t supposed to happen till later, when I can more fully enjoy it.”

Walter looked at Jonathan and smiled for the first time, “You seem to be enjoying yourself just fine right now.”

When they arrived at the carriage, there was an awkward moment of deciding who should sit where, but Jonathan invited Kati to sit up front next to him while he drove so that they could catch up and Walter was relieved to sit inside with no further conversation.

“Is he not the most unusual man you’ve ever met?” Jonathan asked with that same twinkle.

“Well I don’t know about that, but is it true that he almost has a vast fortune, but something prevents him from getting it?”

“Almost!?  Why it’s his for the taking, but he refuses to sign the papers to make it so.”

“But I gathered something had happened to prevent him claiming it.”

“No that’s the beauty and wonder of it.  He is only prevented from doing so by his own actions. “

“Well why doesn’t he?”

“He is convinced it’s quite useless.  That fate will not allow such a man as him to be happy.  So he refuses to sign.”

“That’s it?!”

“That’s it.”

“But you called him remarkable?”

“Oh and he is.  In so many ways.  I said that’s it, but I didn’t say that all he is.  There’s his farm for example.”

“What kind of farm could such a man have?  Ground he refuses to till?  Seeds he refuses to water?”

Jonathan seemed amused by her question and almost ready to succumb to laughter again, but instead he asked her a question.

“Remember what you used to accuse me of?  When I would assure you things would be alright, remember what you used to say?”

“When we were kids?”

“Yes, when we were kids.  Remember what you used to call me?”

“Yes, ok, I remember, but that’s a long time ago. I hope you’re not still…”

“Oh no, I hold no offense.  But would you agree with me that Walter makes a more fitting target for your accusation?”

“Yes, definitely, but really Jonny, why do you bring this up?”

Jonathan could no longer contain his laughter, and just in time for they pulled up at their destination

Walter’s farm, not farm land, but an animal farm, and not just any farm, but a new farm, a very popular tourist site with a rare and unusual bird.

Kati saw it and comprehension dawned and she joined in Jonathan’s laughter,”oh, very appropriate indeed.”

Laughing quietly, they drove onto Walter’s Farm 

No other theory is adequate to explain or comprehend the Declaration of Independence. It is the product of the spiritual insight of the people. We live in an age of science and of abounding accumulation of material things. These did not create our Declaration. Our Declaration created them. The things of the spirit come first. Unless we cling to that, all our material prosperity, overwhelming though it may appear, will turn to a barren sceptre in our grasp. If we are to maintain the great heritage which has been bequeathed to us, we must be like-minded as the fathers who created it. We must not sink into a pagan materialism. We must cultivate the reverence which they had for the things that are holy. We must follow the spiritual and moral leadership which they showed. We must keep replenished, that they may glow with a more compelling flame, the altar fires before which they worshiped.

Calvin Coolidge on the 150th anniversary of our country, July 5, 1926

See the full speech here

http://www.rges.cc/730325

Part 1:

Katherine Suzanne stepped off of the train platform and scanned the faces of the small crowd.  At the same time her nimble mind took in her surroundings, instructed her hands exactly how to arrange her dress and all the time was completely aware of the eyes turned toward her admiringly.  She was not unattractive by any measure, but that was not what drew the eyes of men and women alike.  She knew it was, instead, her red and blue “fishtail” dress, and it’s sleek, pleated look.  Stylish, elegant, with matching umbrella.  She was particularly proud of this outfit, and while modest, it drew attention for it’s lack of bustle.  She was proud of the way she wore it, the way she kept it spotless on the dusty roads and filthy train and most of all, she was proud of it because she herself had designed it.

She accepted the admiring looks (without a blush or demure)  for only a touch longer than might have seemed appropriate only because she was still simultaneously looking for the young man who was supposed to meet her.   She was becoming annoyed.   After all, he was the one who had said it was so important.  A farm and a friend he’d said.  She must see this unusual farm and this amazing friend.

She was aware, also, of him.

Not Jonathan, not the young man for whom she looked, but instead s slightly older gentleman who seemed to be in a hurry, who was impatiently pacing, tapping and murmuring behind Katherine while she continued to scan the crowd.  She smiled to herself and moved more directly in front of the man while pretending to scan the crowd.

It was one of her constant experiments, played daily upon unsuspecting fellow members of the human race.  Would he continue to be a gentleman?  Would he try to brush  past her?  Would he speak to her or continue to pace and murmur?

He shoved her.  Hard.  She had definitely not expected that.  She was thrust forward off the train to the waiting platform where she landed in a heap;   Katherine was no shrinking violet and she was up almost as soon as she landed, whirling to face the man who had committed such an unconscionable act.

He was leaning down to help her up. In an instant she weighed the multiple optional responses and ended up accepting his hand with a look that said it was the least he could do and she was the epitome of nobility to deign to allow him to touch her silken gloveless hand.

“It wasn’t my fault.”  he said, as he helped her up.

“Oh, I suppose it was mine.”

“No,” the young man was clearly uncomfortable, “that’s not what I meant.  It was…” he waved at the crowd behind him.

“It was who then?”

“Well,”  the man swallowed nervously,” I don’t really know.  I was pushed…”

“hmmmm, a true gentleman accepts responsibility for his own actions.”

The man blushed.  Katherine began to feel sorry.

“Well, but it wasn’t my own actions.  Truly.  I was pushed too.”

Katherine was wearying of the game and was ready to start looking for Jonathan again, and was about untie the verbal noose she held him in when…

“The edge of the platform can be a dangerous place to linger.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now.”

“No, that’s not what I meant either.”

He was squirming in a suit, not too big exactly, but too old for him.

“You are a fine gentleman, constantly saying things you don’t mean then.  I don’t know if you are truly rude or just stupid.”

The blush turned to flush and the squirming stopped.

“Well, I do not seem to be champion of that particular attribute in this conversation.” he said standing up straighter.

Katherine smiled inside to see he had a backbone.

“Are you suggesting I am rude or stupid then?”

“Well you are clearly not stupid.”

“And I suspect you are not rude.”

He glared at her and she glared back.

Suddenly, incongruously, he said, “ You are not hurt then.”

She shook her head, speechless.

“Well then as you are too rude and I’m too stupid, and I’m in a frightful hurry, I’ll be off without apology.”

So saying he did indeed rush past her, as she watched him go, mouth open.  She wasn’t sure if she was amused, or angry or both.

“Well, Kati, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a look on your face.”

Jonathan had arrived when she wasn’t paying attention, a rare thing, but one he somehow managed to do more than anyone she’d ever known.

“Well, I’ve never met such a man.” replied Katherine, still staring off in the direction the man had gone.

“Ah, well whatever has happened it will all be erased soon by the memories of today.  The man I want to introduce you to is unlike any you’ve ever met.  He’s the son of Mr. Newhall himself, owner of this very railroad you’ve just arrived on, and he’s the most splendid type of gentlemen you’ve ever seen.  His name is Walter and he owns the farm I wanted to show you as well. ”  There was a twinkle in Jonathan’s eyes which Kati could never resist.

She took his hand as they walked toward the edge of the crowd, “Well then Jonathan, you must show me both.  Although what is so special about a farm I can’t imagine.”

Jonathan laughed.  ”Well you won’t have to wait long for Walter is already there just ahead of us and he has arranged a coach to take us to the farm…Walter, wait up…Kati…what’s wrong Kati.  Walter, what’s wrong?  You two haven’t already met have you?”

Walter of the suit too old,  regained his voice first, “Well yes, we have.  Just now in fact, we ran into each other.”