Unwinding the Darkness

Unwinding the Darkness

This is last night’s  Christmas Story which I read at the church I pastor, Grace Presbyterian.. It is still very rough and in need of editing, but that’s the way with some Christmas gifts. Consider the typos, misspellings, sentence fragments, and run-on sentences my special gift. In spite of all these, I  hope the story helps point to the joyful  reason and significance of the day. Merry Christmas!

PART 1

Once upon a time in a far away kingdom in which there was no king, there lived a carpenter and joiner named John. He was a entrepreneurial sort and found many ways to make a living which was good and necessary since times had been so hard. He was nice enough to his neighbors but mostly he kept to himself. John lived alone in the large house on the edge of the little town. Because of the house’s size, he often let rooms to those traveling from the big city to coast. The authorities had ordered a counting and a tax to be taken, and so as of late, traffic had increased, and there were always people looking for a place to stay.

John could build anything and was often asked by the town’s people to do so. He had built man of the outbuildings behind the house, he made his own tools, farming implements. He made the plow his ox pulled, the the scythe and blade by which he cut the grain he grew, and he made the troughs out which his livestock ate. He built the cabinets in his kitchen, and he turned the legs of the table at which his guest sat.

On this night, John sat alone on the roof of a home which he and his assistant had worked. He looked up at the stars, and recalled the promises. It seemed that the sky was especially clear this night. “It’s only the dry air,” he thought. “Nothing more.”

And turning back to what was irritating him, he thought, “Where is he? Where could he have gotten to? He said he would be back after lunch.” They needed to finish this job today. A storm was brewing. There was a time when you could count on help. But today? People only look after themselves. And it was a two person job. He had tried most of the afternoon to set joists in the roof, but he couldn’t do it by himself. And that’s also what frustrated him. The irony of needing help and complaining that people only looked after themselves was not lost on him.

PART TWO

It had been many years since there had been a king in the kingdom though from time out of mind, the learned and wise said that a king would one day rule again in the chief city. But since the days of the last king, the land had been run by gremlins and their chief, Faustus who liked to be called, the Doctor. Faustus was not the kind of doctor who worked for an earned degree, nor was he the kind that made things well. Rather he was a gremlin of meaningless titles invented by himself or given by those who curried his favor.

No one remembers electing or appointing Dr Faustus, but ever since the gremlins arrived, they just seemed to always be around and doing things. In fact their ceaseless activity made it impossible to do anything without their presence. And they never slept.

When the gremlins first arrived in the kingdom, they were unorganized. Gremlins, being gremlins, like to steal and take things apart. They came at night and took things or disassembled them so that when the people awoke in the morning, the things that they had been working on during the day were gone or in pieces. Knitting was pulled out, toolboxes emptied, dishes scattered around the house, keys and wallets taken, clothes pulled out of their dressers and left on the floor. No doubt you’ve been surprised to find the sink full of dirty dishes just after you had loaded the dishwasher. Or maybe you’ve not been able to find a matching sock in your sock drawer? The gremlins were the first to steal socks, long before our clothe dryers ever thought of it. These sorts of mischievous pranks were just the beginning and whims of a few. Dr. Faustus organized the gremlins, and they began to work together.The gremlins worked out of sight and tirelessly to take things apart. Eventually it got so bad that people needed the gremlins to put them back together. Dr. Faustus offered, for a modest fee, the gremlin’s service.

The Doctor’s truly wicked work was his invention of a glass which he called a “reductifing glass”. He made and gave each gremlin a reductifier, and they wore it around their necks. Whenever anyone looked at something through the reductifier, he would be able to see (or so they thought) what a thing was. This was very helpful. For if a thing was broken, a gremlin could look at the pieces through the reductifier to see what it was, and then they would be able to put it back together. Invariably they would leave parts out which the reductifier said were not important. Though things worked, they didn’t seem to work just right, and they certainly did not work the way they did before.

More and more the people of the kingdom sought the gremlin’s help who with their reductifiers seemed to make things simpler. They would look at something that was broken and say, “It’s only the light bulb”; “It’s only the battery”; “It’s only unplugged”; “It only needs re-booting”.

Now for some of those problems which seem inexplicable, “It’s only…” are relieving words. But “It’s only…” began to creep into the people’s conversations in other ways. Though gremlins knew how to take things apart and though they knew how some things worked, the people of the kingdom began to believe that Dr Faustus and his gremlins were wise and knew what a thing was.

The people began to ask the gremlins to use their reductifiers to look at their problems and people and their surroundings. Curious and troubling questions which required a lot of counsel and wisdom to answer, question which left one asking, “I wonder why that happened?” or “I wonder what they are really like?” or “I wonder what causes that rainbow?” or “I wonder what made light to play that way in the morning or evening?” These questions in which people of all ages used to delight and think about began to be replaced with, “Its only….” “It’s only water vapor.” “It’s only the sun.” “It’s only an optical illusion caused by the curvature of the earth.” “It’s only…” came to be their favorite expression.

“Look at the beautiful sunset!”

“It’s only light passing through the atmosphere.”

“Look at the beautiful blue sky!”

“It’s only ozone.”

“Look at the beautiful fall leaves.”

“It’s only the breakdown of chlorophyll in the leaf.”

Hearing “It’s only….” over and over again eventually made one think only in those terms. Soon everyone was saying it. A statement of right or wrong was answered with, “It’s only your opinion.” A question of true or false was answered with, “It’s only a figure of speech….” In this way even the promises began to be questioned.

There were many promises written in The Book and spoken by the Witnesses. There were the promises of: a Word that would explain all questions, of a Redeemer who could reach every person, of a Judge who would silence every oppressor, of a Deliverer who could unlock any prison, of a Light that could illumine any darkness, and of a King who would unite all people. These were the promises of which many continued to hope, but many now said, “It’s only a metaphor”, or “It’s only a comforting story”.

In this way, Dr Faustus controlled the people and imprisoned them and was able to do so without the walls of a prison and even in such a way that the people did not even know they were in a prison.

PART THREE

Even though things were very bad in the kingdom without a king, there were still those who believed the promises and did not go to the gremlins for answers; these were the Witnesses. The Witnesses believed that that the King was coming, and that his coming was drawing closer and closer. From town to town they traveled, and they shared with anyone who would listen about the coming King.

Three years ago, at this time, a strange guest came to the town and stayed in John’s inn. This Witness said that very soon the King would come and that he would come to this very town. John responded saying, “It’s only ‘Witness-words’, the talk of dreamers and prayers,” said John to the visitor, but the visitor responded,

“To say that something, ‘is only…’ is not to say what a thing really is. The promises are true, you shall see.”

And then the Witness began to speak as if making a pronouncement. He said,

“The King who is coming will rest first to this place.
His first voiced cry in this town shall speak
The esteemed of his Kingdom will first see his face

When he raises the lowly, strengthens the weak.

And then he chanted the words of the old promises in a song. It went something like this,

A King is coming whose reign and reach
Will gather the nations making them one;
Whose words thought foolish, the wise shall teach;
Whose humility, outshine the sun.
His tender hands gather and soft shoulders bear
By his own strength and power;
The weight of the world’s worries and care;
When he comes, do not miss the hour.
Upon his brow you’ll see his crown;
His gaze shall pierce and see;
He ascends his throne midst a rabble’s renown;
Shall bless from the life-giving tree.
Make ready for the King who brings the light
Unwinds darkness, when he enters the night.

When the Witness finished, a great tiredness overtook him, and he fell asleep in his chair. Pausing for a moment, reflecting on what the Witness had sung, John said irritatingly, “It’s only a lot of words and empty wishes!”

After the Witness left, John found that he couldn’t keep his the words out of his mind. What if the King were coming here? In all reality there was no place else in the little town for anyone to stay except for his house. Surely the King would have to come to him. This was his opportunity. John began to prepare, and he began to imagine, “What if the King and he got along? What if the King liked him and liked the things he could do?” Surely this would be his ticket into bigger and better things.

John set aside one room in the home for the King. Taking the best wood he had stored in his workshop, John made a table upon which the King could have his meals, He made an accompanying chair that he imagined a throne. John also made a bed upon which the King could rest from all his hard work. Hours and hours he spent on the furniture, turning and carving and joining the wood.

For a while, John and the townsfolk were attentive, and watchful for the coming King. But as weeks turned to months and months turned to years and the King still had not come, the people and gremlins settled back into their routine. The people thought the word must have only been a rumor. They even began to disbelieve that there had been a Witness. And so the people and John returned to their lives, and Dr Faustus and his gremlins continued to steal, to charge, to take apart, and reductify.

PART FOUR

The young teenage girl and her husband had come looking for a place to stay only last month. John had no room in the large house, in fact he made provision for others who seemed more important with hopes of gaining favor with the influential. This couple was only a poor family. A teenager and her older husband had come to town because of the tax and the counting. Since all the rooms had been taken, there was no place for them to stay. They were after all, only poor out of towners, and she pregnant. What was that about them being married eight months ago? Hmmm. No wonder there wasn’t a place for them among their own. John allowed them to stay in one of the outbuildings where the livestock were allowed in for the night. The young teenage girl, found ways to help. Her husband helped too, and he was quite a hand with hammer and a square which was good because John had several building projects in town with which he could use some help.

John was away on the other side of the village working to repair a leaky roof and ceiling. His tenant husband had stayed back with his wife after lunch but said that he would send him some food later. The gremlins had obviously been at work filling the gutters with leaves and taking out shingles, and so the roof was soft with water and rot.

You know how the work is. Sometimes when you send help home, that’s when things fall apart. And when you’re expecting some food to be sent back, it never comes. So, John found himself at a home with the ceiling repair opened up to a hole in the roof. John paused for a moment to sit and and eat his leftover sandwich.

Even as he looked up and saw the stars and the constellations, something caught in his heart and couldn’t say, that it was only the hunger, or only the peaceful evening. There was something more stirring in him. The stars reminded John of the promises and what the Witness had said, that “one would come and unwind the darkness.”

From a long way off he saw a company of men walking toward town and talking loudly with each other. When they came into view, he could see they were hill-men, shepherds in the hills beyond town. Whatever the reason for their return, could not be a good one. Wolves had been on the prowl lately and growing more bold in their attacks. No doubt some trouble was afoot.

John gathered his tools and went to find out what was going on.

Calling to the shepherds, John asked if there was anything the matter. One shepherd said, “Only if a Bright-Witness with a flaming sword was the matter!” John looked puzzled and the shepherd replied, “We have been visited by a Bright one, a Messenger who has said that the King has come and that we should go see him.”

“Why would he want to see the likes of us?’ says I.

And the Messenger says, “This is good news for all people not just the wealthy, the good, the put together or the accomplished — for all people.” And the Messenger said we should go and see.

John was stunned, could he have missed it? All the months of preparation and the years of waiting. He couldn’t even remember if he had any room, let alone whether he had kept the King’s chamber available.

John followed the shepherds back into town, and they led John to his own house. Had the King come already? What of the husband and his wife, couldn’t they find time to send him word? No doubt they were pressing their own advantage with the King. John had thought better of them, but they’re only people and people look out only for themselves.

John went through the house looking for the King, but he could not find him. In fact the house was empty. Where were his tenants? When he came back to the front door, the hillmen were gone. Running around back John found the shepherds and his missing tenants who were gathered around the entrance of the shed.

There in the midst of the circle lying on a pallet, lay the the teenage girl with a baby boy, and the father looking worried and exhausted.

The young girl took the nursed infant and wrapped him in cloths and laid him on a bed of barley wheat which filled the manger. There the baby furrowed his brow and cried out for whatever reasons babies cry, pursed his lips and fell asleep.

One of the shepherds said, “See, it is just as we were told. This is the sign fulfilled. The King is come.” And they worshiped the baby in the manger.

But John, thought, “They’re only a poor couple displaced by the census and tax, and this is not a King, it’s only a baby

PART FIVE

And so it happened just as the Wanderer had said. John had made the bed upon which the King rested and where he first voiced his wishes and received his esteemed guests.

And all of a sudden the “It’s onlys” gave way to wonder and confusion and amazement. How could this be the fulfillment of the Wanderer’s words? How could this baby’s frail arms reach to gather the nations? How could these tender shoulders bear a kingdom’s burdens and cares? How could this baby king, who cannot even speak, who doesn’t know any words, give answer every question? How could these small hands unlock every locked door?

And with a turn, John felt something open inside him. John drew near to the mother and baby. She could could see in John’s face the wonder and worry, and she nodding and place her hand on the baby’s head. John looked upon the baby and saw his tiny, perfectly formed features, the pursed lips and tiny nose. He reached to touch the baby’s tiny fingers with his forefinger and he felt the softness through his calloused dry fingers. And taking the baby’s hand, those tiny fingers clutched his fingers and held on.

THE LAST

It has been many years since the King arrived in the kingdom without a king. And many years after his arrival that same King cried out again speaking words which overturned the wise. On another day he would rest upon wooden frame and his hand would grasp our callousness even as he slipped into darkness. He came and did so, so that we could be gathered in and held together in his love which reached out from beyond the stars to pass through the darkness into new morning.

Tonight, even as we remember the reach of his accomplishments, we remember the King who came to world of “It’s only” to unwind its darkness and shine his light.

Photo by Hazel Kuehn

My Author

My Author

This is a sonnet for All Saints Day. In it I am giving thanks for the poet-saints who have been my guides on my pilgrimage through this world. There are so many for whom I am grateful, but these especially have had an ongoing influence. Thank you Lord, for your people.

There are lines or allusions to each of the poets pictured. See if you can pick out where the references are. The poets are John Donne, George Herbert, Malcolm Guite,  John MiltonWilliam Shakespeare, C.S. Lewis, Dante Alighieri, and Edmund Spenser.IMG_4404.JPG

Midway upon the journey of my life
Lost, having wandered from the straight way,
In this world weary of sadness and strife
You became my guide, mio maestro e autore.
Following your lead into verse I stray
Browsing midst the meter and rhyme
Imagination bodies forth, bright as day,
And leads me up the encircling climb.
Dissevering, your backward mutters unwind,
Dispelling, each volta’s gospel paradox
Singing, timelessness singing into time
Entering, as heaven in ordinary unlocks.
In your spell of song, this pilgrim finds habitation,
A concord midst the lyric lines, my reconciliation.

© Randy Edwards 2016

"This intolerable calling…

This intolerable calling requires courage and humility. It requires a life full of God. It also requires that the preacher become as wise as possible. Even an expository preacher has to become a kind of sage, a person who is conversant on the range of biblical topics and who can speak on them to healthy spiritual effect. In this calling, the Bible itself is the preacher’s first teacher. His experience of life helps a lot. So does the preacher’s wide reading of fine writers—storytellers, biographers, poets, journalists. Reading them tends to make the preacher wiser, which is perhaps, beyond sheer delight, the principal reason for doing so.

Cornelius Plantinga on a preacher’s reading diet.

(HT: Andy Jones)

"he won’t be angry with you"

“Not too long ago I conducted a funeral for the spouse of a very dear friend of mine. The spouse died of AIDS. My friend moved in a very fast crowd, and the funeral service in the home was quite informal. There was a keyboard artist playing jazz and plenty of booze and balloons. The people who came to the service were not the kind of people who are generally found sitting on the front row at the the First Church by the Gas Station. In fact most of the folks who were at the service had long since given up on religion. I could understand that. I’ve almost given up myself on several occasions. I went to the keyboard artist and said to him, “Son, when you finish this piece bring it to an end because I’m going to say something religious.” When he stopped playing and there was silence, I decided to follow Jesus’ example. He would probably (judging the report of the gospel writers who chronicled his life) be more comfortable with people like this than with the normal folks who attend normal funeral services. So, after saying a quick silent prayer, I said to the folks there: 

“I don’t do many funerals with balloons and booze. But it’s okay because that’s the way [my friend] would have wanted it. The balloons are appropriate because this is not a funeral service, it’s a graduation service. Our friend isn’t here. She’s in another place where there isn’t any more pain. She’s in heaven, and I’m going to tell you why.” 

I told them about the people Jesus loved. I told them that their friend wasn’t in heaven because she was a ‘good’ person (they knew better than that) but because she knew she wasn’t and had turned to One who loved her enough to die on a cross in her place. 

“I’m here. I went on, “for only one reason. You needed someone to tell you the truth. I’m just one bad person telling other bad people the most important thing you will ever hear: God is God, and you should remember that. But if you go to him, he won’t be angry with you. In fact, he’ll love you. Our friend found that out, and we wanted to make sure you knew.”

As I looked around the room, there was hardly a dry eye. I didn’t have to tell them they were guilty. At least they had that right. They needed someone to tell them about a God who would love them and forgive them if they would only go to him.

Steve Brown, Approaching God

The Coming of the King

Lewis’ good friend, J.R.R. Tokein as well understood the jovial king.

“And then wonder took him, and a great joy; and he cast his sword up in the sunlight and sang as he caught it. And all eyes followed his gaze, and behold! upon the foremost ship a great standard broke, and the wind displayed it as she turned towards the Harlond. There flowered a White Tree, and that was for Gondor; but Seven Stars were about it, and a high crown above it, the signs of Elendil that no lord had borne for years beyond count. And the stars flamed in the sunlight, for they were wrought of gems by Arwen daughter of Elrond; and the crown was bright in the morning, for it was wrought of mithril and gold. Thus came Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elessar, Isildur’s heir, out of the Paths of the Dead, borne upon a wind from the Sea to the kingdom of Gondor; and the mirth of the Rohirrim was a torrent of laughter and a flashing of swords, and the joy and wonder of the City was a music of trumpets and a ringing of bells…”
J.R.R. Tolkein, The Return of the King

Jovial Kingship


“Before the other angels a man might sink: before this he might die, but if he lived at all, he would laugh. If you had caught one breath of the air that came from him, you would have felt yourself taller than before. Though you were a cripple, your walk would have become stately: though a beggar, you would have worn your rags magnanimously. Kingship and power and festal pomp and courtesy shot from him as sparks fly from an anvil. The pealing of bells, the blowing of trumpets, the spreading out of banners, are means used on earth to make a faint symbol of his quality. It was like a long sunlit wave, creamy-crested and arched with emerald, that comes on nine feet tall, with roaring and with terror and unquenchable laughter. It was like the first beginning of music in the halls of some King so high and at some festival so solemn that a tremor akin to fear runs through young hearts when they hear it. For this was the great Glund-Oyarsa, King of Kings, through whom the joy of creation principally blows across these fields of Arbol,…. At his coming there was holiday in the Blue Room…”

C.S. Lewis, That Hideous Strength

Lewis captures the jovial spirit in the descent of Glund in That Hideous Strength. Notice the similar language in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. Lucy asks regarding Aslan, “Is he—quite safe?” To which Mr. Beaver replies, “Safe? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

Here’s Michael Ward talking about the Jovial spirit.


And the second part…

150th Anniversary of "The Late Unpleasantness"

Regimental Colors of the 61st Ohio Volunteers

  In recognition of the start of the greatest trial the United States has faced, I want to acknowledge my ancestors who served their country in this war.

My great-great-great grandfather Samuel Leet Fite who served in Company C of the 66th Indiana Infantry.
My great-great-great grandfather Thomas Beasley who served in Company A of the 12th Indiana Infantry.
My great-great grandfather who served in Company B of the 61st Ohio Infantry.
My great-great-great grandfather Henry Dunn who served in Company K of the 159th Ohio Infantry.
You can browse photos from the National Archives here.
12 Indiana Infantry Monument at Vicksburg

61st Ohio Volunteers Gettysburg Monument