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27 April 2024, the calendar is ended.

(Last window on 25 December 2014)

Trinity Lutheran Church - Owatonna, Minnesota

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It's another Thanksgiving Thursday!

Today, we hear from Trinity's Lead Pastor, Todd Buegler, as he shares about his sense of thanksgiving during this Advent. In short, he is thankful for a community that rallies around the mission of the Gospel to make a difference in the world.

How have you been ministered to? How have you ministered to others?

Thanks to God for the ways that we can be a community together!

(One of the things for which I'm thankful is that we have great videographers in our community so that our film clips are usually much better than this one. - Pastor Dean)

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The Author of Away in a Manger remains unknown. Some early works suggested it was written by Martin Luther, although this appears unlikely. It is probably a late-nineteenth-century American carol. The first published appearance is in the 1885 Philadelphia The Little Children's Book for Schools and Families. Richard S. Hill, who was head of the reference section of the Library of Congress, researched the origins of the carol and concluded it was likely a poem read in Lutheran children's celebrations of the 400th anniversary of the birth of Luther in 1883. The third verse did not appear until 1892 in a collection edited by Charles H. Gabriel.

The tune of the song is not universal. Indeed, over forty different tunes have been placed alongside the lyrics in hymn books. In the UK the most popular is William J. Kirkpatrick's Cradle Song which is a Gospel song. Kirkpatrick was the music director for the Grace Church in Philadelphia and compiled a total of eighty-seven gospel song books! In the USA the main tune used with the lyrics is James R. Murray's 1887 Mueller.

Away in a Manger is one of the most popular Christmas carols. A 1996 Gallop Poll revealed that it was the joint second most popular carol in Britain along with "O Come All Ye Faithful."

Away in a Manger's contents have very little foundation in the actual text of the Bible. The Bible does not contain any references to cattle at the birth, nor does it say that Jesus did not cry as a baby.

[From awayinamanger.org]

This video features beloved singers John Denver, Kathy Mattea, and Patty Loveless from John Denver's 1991 special, "Montana Christmas Skies."

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It's Wildcard Wednesday!

Do you have a Nativity scene in your home? What makes it special? What does it mean to you when you set it up each year?

Have you--as Pastor Todd suggested--removed Jesus from the scene until Christmas Eve?

Nativities come in all kids of shapes, sizes, and themes. Mark Ostreicher, a well-respected youth ministry guru, has compiled a collection of some of the weirdest nativities around. Enjoy!

Copy the link below and paste it in your browser to see:
http://whyismarko.com/the-50-worst-and-weirdest-nativity-sets/comment-page-2/#comment-1211821

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It’s no secret that I thoroughly enjoyed the time I worked at Sears in the Summit Place Mall in Waterford, Michigan. My memories are especially vivid this time of year, and those memories have led to me to my own personal tradition to celebrate on this Tradition Tuesday.

I loved the pre-Christmas season in Sears Hardware department. I loved the frantic pace. I loved the constant activity. I loved the opportunity to exercise my tact and diplomacy skills—especially on Christmas Eve Day.

I also loved the moment in the car after I clocked out and went to the parking lot. I loved the quiet. I loved the calm. I loved sitting down after 9 hours on my feet! It was good to be still during the ride home. It was even better to be still during the Christmas Eve Candlelight Service despite my sore knees and aching feet. Driving home after midnight past the many closed stores was always meaningful to me. It was my best understanding of Peace on Earth.

Which leads me to the present day… I still do a Closed Store Tour every Christmas Eve after the late service. I leave church and drive downtown. I head to Cashwise, up to Wal-Mart, across to Lowes, down to Target, and over to Fleet Farm. (Sorry, Hy-Vee, I live on the west side of town.) At each of those stops, I pray for the people who work in those stores. I pray for peace and rest over the next day. I pray for their aching joints and muscles. I pray for their hurt feelings from customers’ misplaced anger. (I pray for the Hy-Vee folks, too.) I pray for an island of peace between the last-minute frenzy and the day-after bargains.

All this is to encourage each of us in these busy days before Christmas to remember that the people on the other side of the name tag are Children of God who are loved and forgiven and good. Please pray for them. Please be kind. Let there be peace on earth…and let it begin in Housewares…or Sporting Goods…or in the Dairy Department…

- Pastor Dean Smith

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The Medieval History of the Christmas Cookie

It’s the most wonderful time of the year, when cooks around the country take to their kitchens to bake cookies galore. Whether you prefer gingerbread men, crisp springerle or crunchy biscotti, chances are you’ll enjoy some fresh baked Christmas cookies this holiday season. Like many Christmas traditions, the origin of this delicious custom lies ages ago, in solstice rituals conducted long before Christmas became the huge commercial holiday it is today.

Winter solstice festivals have been held for eons, across the world. From Norway to West Africa, Ireland to India, groups of people gathered to celebrate the changing of the seasons. Celebrations revolved around food; after all, you had to feast before the famine of the winter. Solstice often meant the arrival of the first frost, so animals could be killed and kept safely to eat through the winter, and fermented beverages like beer and wine that had been brewed in the spring were finally ready to drink. As any modern host knows, a hearty roast and a stiff drink need just one thing to complete the party: dessert.

By the Middle Ages, the Christmas holiday had overtaken solstice rituals throughout much of present-day Europe. However, the old feast traditions remained. And while the roast and drink recipes were probably quite similar to what earlier Europeans had enjoyed, the pastry world was experiencing some amazing changes. Spices like nutmeg, cinnamon and black pepper were just starting to be widely used, and dried exotic fruits like citron, apricots and dates added sweetness and texture to the dessert tray. These items, along with ingredients like sugar, lard and butter, would have been prized as expensive delicacies by medieval cooks. Only on the most important holiday could families afford treats like these, which led to a baking bonanza to prepare for Christmas. And unlike pies or cakes, cookies could be easily shared and given to friends and neighbors. Our modern Christmas cookies date back to these medieval gifts.

Though cookies have come a long way since medieval times, some things haven’t changed. Many Christmas cookies are still heavily spiced. We think of “traditional” Christmas flavors like cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger, and those are exactly the same spices medieval cooks would have used in their cookies ages ago. Gingerbread is a classic Christmas cookie, and yet it’s also a cookie that would have tasted strikingly similar back in the Middle Ages. Ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg and mace combine to make a snappy, spicy taste, just like they would have back then. And gingerbread uses molasses as a sweetener, something that medieval cooks would appreciate as refined sugar was so expensive. These cooks would not have made gingerbread men, however. The first person to try that was none other than Queen Elizabeth I of England, who had the cookie molded into the shapes of her favorite courtiers.

[From The History Channel at history.com]

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Story Saturday! Here is a special story for your Christmas preparation.

"Papa Panov's Special Christmas" by Leo Tolstoy.

It was Christmas Eve and although it was still afternoon, lights had begun to appear in the shops and houses of the little Russian village, for the short winter day was nearly over. Excited children scurried indoors and now only muffled sounds of chatter and laughter escaped from closed shutters.

Old Papa Panov, the village shoemaker, stepped outside his shop to take one last look around. The sounds of happiness, the bright lights and the faint but delicious smells of Christmas cooking reminded him of past Christmas times when his wife had still been alive and his own children little. Now they had gone. His usually cheerful face, with the little laughter wrinkles behind the round steel spectacles, looked sad now. But he went back indoors with a firm step, put up the shutters and set a pot of coffee to heat on the charcoal stove. Then, with a sigh, he settled in his big armchair.

Papa Panov did not often read, but tonight he pulled down the big old family Bible and, slowly tracing the lines with one forefinger, he read again the Christmas story. He read how Mary and Joseph, tired by their journey to Bethlehem, found no room for them at the inn, so that Mary's little baby was born in the cowshed.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear!" exclaimed Papa Panov, "if only they had come here! I would have given them my bed and I could have covered the baby with my patchwork quilt to keep him warm."

He read on about the wise men who had come to see the baby Jesus, bringing him splendid gifts. Papa Panov's face fell. "I have no gift that I could give him," he thought sadly.

Then his face brightened. He put down the Bible, got up and stretched his long arms to the shelf high up in his little room. He took down a small, dusty box and opened it. Inside was a perfect pair of tiny leather shoes. Papa Panov smiled with satisfaction. Yes, they were as good as he had remembered- the best shoes he had ever made. "I should give him those," he decided, as he gently put them away and sat down again.

He was feeling tired now, and the further he read the sleeper he became. The print began to dance before his eyes so that he closed them, just for a minute. In no time at all Papa Panov was fast asleep.

And as he slept he dreamed. He dreamed that someone was in his room and he know at once, as one does in dreams, who the person was. It was Jesus.

"You have been wishing that you could see me, Papa Panov." he said kindly, "then look for me tomorrow. It will be Christmas Day and I will visit you. But look carefully, for I shall not tell you who I am."

When at last Papa Panov awoke, the bells were ringing out and a thin light was filtering through the shutters. "Bless my soul!" said Papa Panov. "It's Christmas Day!"

He stood up and stretched himself for he was rather stiff. Then his face filled with happiness as he remembered his dream. This would be a very special Christmas after all, for Jesus was coming to visit him. How would he look? Would he be a little baby, as at that first Christmas? Would he be a grown man, a carpenter or the great King that he is, God's Son? He must watch carefully the whole day through so that he recognized him however he came.

Papa Panov put on a special pot of coffee for his Christmas breakfast, took down the shutters, and looked out of the window. The street was deserted; no one was stirring yet—no one except the road sweeper. He looked as miserable and dirty as ever, and well he might! Whoever wanted to work on Christmas Day—and in the raw cold and bitter freezing mist of such a morning?

Papa Panov opened the shop door, letting in a thin stream of cold air. "Come in!" he shouted across the street cheerily. "Come in and have some hot coffee to keep out the cold!"

The sweeper looked up, scarcely able to believe his ears. He was only too glad to put down his broom and come into the warm room. His old clothes steamed gently in the heat of the stove and he clasped both red hands round the comforting warm mug as he drank.

Papa Panov watched him with satisfaction, but every now and then his eyes strayed to the window. It would never do to miss his special visitor.

"Expecting someone?" the sweeper asked at last. So Papa Panov told him about his dream.

"Well, I hope he comes," the sweeper said. "You’ve given me a bit of Christmas cheer I never expected to have. I'd say you deserve to have your dream come true." And he actually smiled.

When he had gone, Papa Panov put on cabbage soup for his dinner, then went to the door again, scanning the street. He saw no one. But he was mistaken. Someone was coming.

The girl walked so slowly and quietly, hugging the walls of shops and houses, that it was a while before he noticed her. She looked very tired and she was carrying something. As she drew nearer he could see that it was a baby, wrapped in a thin shawl. There was such sadness in her face and in the pinched little face of the baby that Papa Panov's heart went out to them.

"Won't you come in," he called, stepping outside to meet them. "You both need a warm by the fire and a rest."

The young mother let him shepherd her indoors and to the comfort of the armchair. She gave a big sigh of relief.

"I'll warm some milk for the baby," Papa Panov said, "I've had children of my own- I can feed her for you." He took the milk from the stove and carefully fed the baby from a spoon, warming her tiny feet by the stove at the same time.

"She needs shoes," the cobbler said.

But the girl replied, "I can't afford shoes, I've got no husband to bring home money. I'm on my way to the next village to get work."

Sudden thought flashed through Papa Panov's mind. He remembered the little shoes he had looked at last night. But he had been keeping those for Jesus. He looked again at the cold little feet and made up his mind.

"Try these on her," he said, handing the baby and the shoes to the mother. The beautiful little shoes were a perfect fit. The girl smiled happily and the baby gurgled with pleasure.

"You have been so kind to us," the girl said, when she got up with her baby to go. "May all your Christmas wishes come true!"

But Papa Panov was beginning to wonder if his very special Christmas wish would come true. Perhaps he had missed his visitor? He looked anxiously up and down the street. There were plenty of people about but they were all faces that he recognized. There were neighbors going to call on their families. They nodded and smiled and wished him Happy Christmas! Or beggars…and Papa Panov hurried indoors to fetch them hot soup and a generous hunk of bread, hurrying out again in case he missed the Important Stranger.

All too soon the winter dusk fell. When Papa Panov next went to the door and strained his eyes, he could no longer make out the passers-by. most were home and indoors by now anyway. He walked slowly back into his room at last, put up the shutters, and sat down wearily in his armchair.

So it had been just a dream after all. Jesus had not come.

Then all at once he knew that he was no longer alone in the room.

This was not dream for he was wide awake. At first he seemed to see before his eyes the long stream of people who had come to him that day. He saw again the old road sweeper, the young mother and her baby and the beggars he had fed. As they passed, each whispered, "Didn't you see me, Papa Panov?"

"Who are you?" he called out, bewildered.

Then another voice answered him. It was the voice from his dream- the voice of Jesus.

"I was hungry and you fed me," he said. "I was naked and you clothed me. I was cold and you warmed me. I came to you today in every one of those you helped and welcomed."

Then all was quiet and still. Only the sound of the big clock ticking. A great peace and happiness seemed to fill the room, overflowing Papa Panov's heart until he wanted to burst out singing and laughing and dancing with joy.

"So he did come after all!" was all that he said.

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Music Monday!
"God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" is a favorite carol to share as it bestows a blessing on those whom the carolers have come to visit: God Rest Ye Merry!

However, very little is known of the origins of this song. Its first publication date is 1833, but its author is unknown.

Charles Dickens' in his _A_Christmas_Carol, refers to this tune:
"...at the first sound of - 'God bless you merry, gentlemen! Let nothing you dismay!' - Scrooge seized the ruler with such energy of action, that the singer fled in terror, leaving the keyhole to the fog and even more congenial frost."

The video features sisters Justine and Kerris Dorsey with a fun combination of "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" and another favorite, "Carol of the Bells."

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It's Story Saturday!

Mike Pilavachi is one of Pastor Dean's favorite speakers. This little video gem features Mike reading "A Visit from Saint Nicholas" (also known as "The Night Before Christmas").

From Wikipedia:
"A Visit from St. Nicholas", also known as "The Night Before Christmas" and " 'Twas the Night Before Christmas" from its first line, is a poem first published anonymously in 1823, and later attributed to Clement Clarke Moore, who acknowledged authorship in 1837.

The poem, which has been called "arguably the best-known verses ever written by an American," is largely responsible for some of the conceptions of Santa Claus from the mid-nineteenth century to today. Prior to the poem, American ideas about St. Nicholas and other Christmastide visitors varied considerably. It became a popular poem which was set to music and was recorded by many artists.

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Last week's Wildcard Wednesday featured the Skit Guys. Today, we have a message from OneTimeBlind, another excellent drama group.

What would you bring Jesus for his birthday?

This skit gives us an idea of what Jesus might really have on his birthday list.

I pray that this Christmas season will be blessed with the unique presence of Christ your life each day!

Thank you for journeying through Advent together.

Peace.

-Pastor Dean Smith

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It's Story Saturday! Here's another story that reminds us of some of the important lessons of Christmas. The author was Henrietta Eliza Vaughan Stannard, a novelist who frequently published under the pseudonym John Strange Winter.

A Christmas Fairy
by John Strange Winter

It was getting very near to Christmas time, and all the boys at Miss Ware's school were talking about going home for the holidays.

"I shall go to the Christmas festival," said Bertie Fellows," and my mother will have a party, and my Aunt will give another. Oh! I shall have a splendid time at home."

"My Uncle Bob is going to give me a pair of skates," remarked Harry Wadham.

"My father is going to give me a bicycle," put in George Alderson.

"Will you bring it back to school with you?" asked Harry.

"Oh! yes, if Miss Ware doesn't say no."

"Well, Tom," cried Bertie, "where are you going to spend your holidays?"

"I am going to stay here," answered Tom in a very forlorn voice.

"Here - at school - oh, dear! Why can't you go home?"

"I can't go home to India," answered Tom.

"Nobody said you could. But haven't you any relatives anywhere?"

Tom shook his head. "Only in India," he said sadly.

"Poor fellow! That's hard luck for you. I'll tell you what it is, boys, if I couldn't go home for the holidays, especially at Christmas--I think I would just sit down and die."

"Oh, no, you wouldn't," said Tom. "You would get ever so homesick, but you wouldn't die. You would just get through somehow, and hope something would happen before next year, or that some kind fairy would--"

"There are no fairies nowadays," said Bertie.

"See here, Tom, I'll write and ask my mother to invite you to go home with me for the holidays."

"Will you really?"

"Yes, I will. And if she says yes, we shall have such a splendid time. We live in London, you know, and have lots of parties and fun."

"Perhaps she will say no?" suggested poor little Tom.

"My mother isn't the kind that says no," Bertie declared loudly.

In a few days' time a letter arrived from Bertie's mother. The boy opened it eagerly. It said:

My own dear Bertie:

I am very sorry to tell you that little Alice is ill with scarlet fever. And so you cannot come for your holidays. I would have been glad to have you bring your little friend with you if all had been well here.

Your father and I have decided that the best thing that you can do is to stay at Miss Ware's. We shall send your Christmas present to you as well as we can.

It will not be like coming home, but I am sure you will try to be happy, and make me feel that you are helping me in this sad time.

Dear little Alice is very ill, very ill indeed. Tell Tom that I am sending you a box for both of you, with two of everything. And tell him that it makes me so much happier to know that you will not be alone.

Your own mother.

When Bertie Fellows received this letter, which ended all his Christmas hopes and joys, he hid his face upon his desk and sobbed aloud. The lonely boy from India, who sat next to him, tried to comfort his friend in every way he could think of. He patted his shoulder and whispered many kind words to him.

At last Bertie put the letter into Tom's hands. "Read it," he sobbed.

So then Tom understood the cause of Bertie's grief. "Don't fret over it," he said at last. "It might be worse. Why, your father and mother might be thousands of miles away, like mine are. When Alice is better, you will be able to go home. And it will help your mother if she thinks you are almost as happy as if you could go now."

Soon Miss Ware came to tell Bertie how sorry she was for him.

"After all," said she, smiling down on the two boys, "it is an ill wind that blows nobody good. Poor Tom has been expecting to spend his holidays alone, and now he will have a friend with him--Try to look on the bright side, Bertie, and to remember how much worse it would have been if there had been no boy to stay with you."

"I can't help being disappointed, Miss Ware," said Bertie, his eyes filling with tears.

"No; you would be a strange boy if you were not. But I want you to try to think of your poor mother, and write her as cheerfully as you can."

"Yes," answered Bertie; but his heart was too full to say more.

The last day of the term came, and one by one, or two by two, the boys went away, until only Bertie and Tom were left in the great house. It had never seemed so large to either of them before.

"It's miserable," groaned poor Bertie, as they strolled into the schoolroom. "Just think if we were on our way home now--how different."

"Just think if I had been left here by myself," said Tom.

"Yes," said Bertie, "but you know when one wants to go home he never thinks of the boys that have no home to go to."

The evening passed, and the two boys went to bed. They told stories to each other for a long time before they could go to sleep. That night they dreamed of their homes, and felt very lonely. Yet each tried to be brave, and so another day began.

This was the day before Christmas. Quite early in the morning came the great box of which Bertie's mother had spoken in her letter. Then, just as dinner had come to an end, there was a peal of the bell, and a voice was heard asking for Tom Egerton.

Tom sprang to his feet, and flew to greet a tall, handsome lady, crying, "Aunt Laura! Aunt Laura!"

And Laura explained that she and her husband had arrived in London only the day before. "I was so afraid, Tom," she said, "that we should not get here until Christmas Day was over and that you would be disappointed. So I would not let your mother write you that we were on our way home. You must get your things packed up at once, and go back with me to London. Then uncle and I will give you a splendid time."

For a minute or two Tom's face shone with delight. Then he caught sight of Bertie and turned to his aunt.

"Dear Aunt Laura," he said, "I am very sorry, but I can't go."

"Can't go? and why not?"

"Because I can't go and leave Bertie here all alone," he said stoutly. "When I was going to be alone he wrote and asked his mother to let me go home with him. She could not have either of us because Bertie's sister has scarlet fever. He has to stay here, and he has never been away from home at Christmas time before, and I can't go away and leave him by himself, Aunt Laura."

For a minute Aunt Laura looked at the boy as if she could not believe him. Then she caught him in her arms and kissed him.

"You dear little boy, you shall not leave him. You shall bring him along, and we shall all enjoy ourselves together. Bertie, my boy, you are not very old yet, but I am going to teach you a lesson as well as I can. It is that kindness is never wasted in this world."

And so Bertie and Tom found that there was such a thing as a fairy after all.

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On Thursdays, take a moment to be thankful for what God has done!

At the 2014 Thanksgiving Eve worship service, the Klein family shared their thankfulness for the technology that helps bring them together as a family and as people of faith.

Question: For what technology are you thankful right now?

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Sunday Reflection - Preparation

When you are whitewater rafting, there is a moment of quiet calm at the top of a rapid. It's that moment when I check to make sure I have a firm grip on my paddle, my feet are firmly tucked in, and I'm doing nothing but listening to the water rushing by and waiting to hear paddle commands from the guide.

There is no turning back. No getting out of the boat. Only waiting...expecting...hoping that I am ready for whatever is about to happen in the next 3 minutes of whitewater. I have some ideas, but, really, I have no way of knowing exactly what is going to happen to the raft and my fellow paddlers.

It's a great reminder of faith. I don't know what's going to happen today, tomorrow, next week. I don't know what God's plans are for me and my family.

I don't know what the end of time will look like, and I have only the slightest inkling about what will herald Christ's return.

I know this: I am prepared with the promises of God. I have heard the promise that says that Jesus "will be with you to the end of the age." (Matthew 28: 20) I have heard the promise that says there is no place, no person, and no power that can separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus. (Romans 8: 38-39)

For these reason, I feel I am prepared for whatever God has in store for me.

In what do you place your confidence as you move into God's future for you? How do you feel prepared?

- Pastor Dean Smith

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It's another Thanksgiving Thursday!

Here's a little of what Pastor Dean Smith is thankful for this time of year.

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For this Music Monday, we celebrate the history of one of the most beloved and revered of Christmas hymns: Silent Night.

While there are several legends surrounding the origins of this song, its story begins in 1818.

"In 1818 the carol "Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht" was heard for the first time in a village church in Oberndorf, Austria. The congregation at that Midnight Mass in St. Nicholas Church listened as the voices of the assistant pastor, Father Joseph Mohr, and the choir director, Franz Xaver Gruber, rang through the church to the accompaniment of Father Mohr's guitar. On each of the six verses, the choir repeated the last two lines in four-part harmony. On that Christmas Eve, a song was born that would wing its way into the hearts of people throughout the world. Now translated into hundreds of languages, it is sung by untold millions every December from small chapels in the Andes to great cathedrals in Antwerp and Rome.

The German words for the original six stanzas of the carol we know as "Silent Night" were written by Joseph Mohr in 1816, when he was a young priest assigned to a pilgrimage church in Mariapfarr, Austria. His grandfather lived nearby, and it is easy to imagine that he could have come up with the words while walking through the countryside on a visit to his elderly relative. The fact is, we have no idea if any particular event inspired Joseph Mohr to pen his poetic version of the birth of the Christ child. The world is fortunate, however, that he didn't leave it behind when he was transferred to Oberndorf the following year (1817).

On December 24, 1818, Joseph Mohr journeyed to the home of musician-schoolteacher Franz Gruber who lived in an apartment over the schoolhouse in nearby Arnsdorf. He showed his friend the poem and asked him to add a melody and guitar accompaniment so that it could be sung at Midnight Mass. His reason for wanting the new carol is unknown. Some speculate that the organ would not work; others feel that the assistant pastor, who dearly loved guitar music, merely wanted a new carol for Christmas.

Lyrics
1. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht!
Alles schläft; einsam wacht
Nur das traute heilige Paar.
Holder Knab im lockigten Haar,
Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh!
Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh!

2. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht!
Gottes Sohn, o wie lacht
Lieb´ aus deinem göttlichen Mund,
Da schlägt uns die rettende Stund.
Jesus in deiner Geburt!
Jesus in deiner Geburt!

3. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht!
Die der Welt Heil gebracht,
Aus des Himmels goldenen Höhn
Uns der Gnaden Fülle läßt sehn:
Jesum in Menschengestalt,
Jesum in Menschengestalt

4. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht!
Wo sich heut alle Macht
Väterlicher Liebe ergoß
Und als Bruder huldvoll umschloß
Jesus die Völker der Welt,
Jesus die Völker der Welt.

5. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht!
Lange schon uns bedacht,
Als der Herr vom Grimme befreit
In der Väter urgrauer Zeit
Aller Welt Schonung verhieß,
Aller Welt Schonung verhieß.

6. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht!
Hirten erst kundgemacht
Durch der Engel Alleluja,
Tönt es laut bei Ferne und Nah:
Jesus der Retter ist da!
Jesus der Retter ist da!

1. Silent night! Holy night!
All's asleep, one sole light,
Just the faithful and holy pair,
Lovely boy-child with curly hair,
Sleep in heavenly peace!
Sleep in heavenly peace!

2. Silent night! Holy night!
God's Son laughs, o how bright.
Love from your holy lips shines clear,
As the dawn of salvation draws near,
Jesus, Lord, with your birth!
Jesus, Lord, with your birth!

3. Silent night! Holy night!
Brought the world peace tonight,
From the heavens' golden height
Shows the grace of His holy might
Jesus, as man on this earth!
Jesus, as man on this earth!

4. Silent night! holy night!
Where today all the might
Of His fatherly love us graced
And then Jesus, as brother embraced.
All the peoples on earth!
All the peoples on earth!

5. Silent night! Holy night!
Long we hoped that He might,
As our Lord, free us of wrath,
Since times of our fathers He hath
Promised to spare all mankind!
Promised to spare all mankind!

6. Silent night! Holy night!
Sheperds first see the sight.
Told by angelic Alleluja,
Sounding everywhere, both near and far:
"Christ the Savior is here!"
"Christ the Savior is here!"

[from http://www.icce.rug.nl/~soundscapes/VOLUME02/Silent_Night_History.shtml]

Window nº 5
Photo Friday!

In December of 2012, Trinity's Advent celebration included several weeks of "Casting Call"--dramas that helped us wonder about the unique lessons we can learn from those who were present at the birth of Christ.

Over the course of several weeks, we were reminded that this is not our story. This is God's story. We learned that this is the most important story known to humanity, so we should share it. We learned how easily we can be distracted from the main thing by the high activity of the season. We were also reminded to remember the "big picture" of God's work in the world rather than getting lost in the details.

All of those lessons came together on the last weekend before Advent when we had the chance to use our newly expanded Narthex (churchspeak for "lobby) for a living Nativity scene.

What a beautiful tableau that reminds us of a wonderful season!

Window nº 12
Photo Friday!
It's a new look at a Christmas tree that invites us to rethink our traditions, our preferences, our habits of this season.

Have you taken the opportunity to ask "Why?" Why do we decorate the tree this way? Why do we always play this game? Why do we have this kind of food?

Sometimes asking "Why?" can help us remember important people, stories, and experiences that have shaped us in wonderful, surprising, and meaningful ways.

As you take a new look at this "old" symbol, pray that God will open you up to ask "Why?" and appreciate and enjoy the stories behind your traditions (and maybe encourage you to try some new ones).

Window nº 9
The Christmas tree is a strong symbol of Christmas. It serves as the family’s center of attention. In fact, it is the center of most Christmas ceremonies all over the world.

Christmas is about traditions and memories, and symmetric and beautifully decorated Christmas trees are something that the entire family will always value and remember. Every year, between 25 and 30 million Americans celebrate Christmas with Christmas trees, thus, the scent of a freshly cut Christmas tree enlivens the Christmas spirit among most Americans.

Christmas trees have a long and exciting history. During the pre-Christian era, people and tribes often had holy groves and trees where they sacrificed to the gods. The trees were most often oak or ash, and they symbolized a connection between heaven and earth. Similar ideas are found in the Old Testament – trees symbolized wisdom and life.

In the 15th and 16th centuries, German tradesmen began to hold parties where a spruce was placed inside a home. Another story tells of how the German theologian and reformer, Martin Luther, put candles on the leaves as symbols of the stars twinkling among the forest’s trees. In the 17th century, the tradition of decorated Christmas trees in connection with festivities spread out to the German towns, and from there, to other parts of Europe.

Even if the first Christmas tree in the USA, perhaps, can be traced all the way back to 1777, Christmas trees did not become popular in the USA until the middle of the 18th century. An image of the English royal family standing in front of a Christmas tree was copied and brought to the USA in 1850. This resulted in the American upper classes embracing the Christmas tree. In the following decades, the tradition of Christmas trees in living rooms became popular among the rest of the population.

[From allthingschristmas.com]

(Photo credit: Dean Smith. This is one of the "heirloom" kinds of ornaments that used to be on our tree when I was younger, and on my Grandma Smith's tree before then. It's old, beautiful, and durable.)

Window nº 21
We are rapidly approaching the quiet part of Christmas. The pageants, the parties, the shopping, the cookie swaps, the gift exchanges, the Everything that contributes to our Christmas exhaustion is winding down.

At 5:00 or so on Christmas Eve, the stores begin to close. Families arrive at their Christmas destinations. Worship services fill. Our focus narrows from a large, busy world to only those people immediately around us.

Our focus shifts away from the complicated mess of pre-Christmas crazy to a very simple story involving only a few main characters as they gather around a bed of hay mysteriously lit with a heavenly glow.

Those quiet moments of contemplation are beyond the capacity of words to describe. Usually, they are expressed by a simple sigh...of contentment at God's goodness, of sadness at the absence of an departed loved one, of wonder at how all of God's design works. And the only feeling that comes to mind is Love.

Love of what was. Love of what is. Love of those around us. Love of all that is to come.

This season--with all of the hype--comes down to a very simple gift of Love. But this Love is more than any love there is. This Love commands a capital L. This is the Love that changed the future of the world.

The explosion of activity that surrounds this season still cannot drown out the central message of the Good News of salvation and hope: God's mighty "I Love You."

Window nº 19
For this Photo Friday, here's an excerpt from the 11/22/14 Owatonna People's Press:

"Whether it’s Facebook or Norman Rockwell or Charles Dickens, temptations abound to compare our holiday experience with an ideal that doesn’t exist. We wish we could photoshop, airbrush, and edit our families, our decorations, our merriest of celebrations to achieve a level of perfection that even a Dayton’s window couldn’t match.

Why?

Why do we have such a hard time accepting who we are—warts and all? Scripture reminds us that we are “fearfully and wonderfully made” by a God who loves us—even in our imperfect, messed up condition. That doesn’t mean we don’t set goals or seek knowledge or do what we can to become the person we believe God intends for us to be, but it does make me wonder why we drive ourselves to despair—especially this time of year—because we are not “living the dream.”

What if the dream you’re trying to live isn’t yours?

You can’t live well when you’re trying to live a life that isn’t yours.

As the calendar leads us to Thanksgiving, I pray that you’ll be able to give thanks for where God has led you thus far in life—good, bad, and/or ugly.

Once we turn our attention to the season of waiting, Advent, I hope you have traditions that are worth celebrating—even if they are unique to your family and no one else really “gets” them.

As Christmas morning dawns, I pray that you’ll welcome the news of a Savior who comes into this fallen, broken, messed up world with a promise of life—real life.

Yours is a unique and blessed life. Just as it is. Photoshopping is not required."

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It's Wildcard Wednesday.

It's also Christmas Eve.

Question: What are you expecting this Christmas?

Here are some beautiful thoughts on all of the unexpected things about this amazing story of God's great love.

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It's another Wildcard Wednesday!

Today, we get a chance to see a method actor who takes his role as Joseph in the Living Nativity very seriously.

Don't let the humor fool you. There is a serious, powerful message to be heard.

In response to his thoughts at the end of the video: could you do it?

Window nº 14
Joy or Happiness?

I remember asking a group of high schoolers if there was a difference between joy and happiness. There were several responses, and a great conversation followed.

Joy, the group decided, has deeper roots than happiness. Happiness is fleeting, but joy is a character trait. We can be joyful without feeling happy. We can even be happy without joy (but happiness is that much happier when it comes out of a person's deep joy). It was a great discussion.

As we wrapped up our time, I asked one of my usual questions, "So what?"

We decided that Christians should aim for Joy in life. Joy is among the fruits of the Spirit listed in Galatians 5: 22-23. Joy comes with the deep-seated confidence in God's promises--promises of life, peace, salvation, and hope. Our "so what?" was that Joy comes as the result of faith.

In this season of holy expectations, may the gift of Joy give you strength and peace. May the Joy that comes with the certainty of God's salvation shine through you as a gift to be shared with others.

Have a Joyous (and maybe even happy) Advent!

- Pastor Dean Smith

(Photo credit: Dean Smith. This is the ornament on our tree that reminds us of my mom whose name is Joy.)

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It's Music Monday! Each Monday, take time to consider a "timeless classic"--its origins, history, and meaning.

The Story of "O Come O Come Emmanuel."
By Dr. Jeff Sanders

I have loved singing this song at Christmas time. The tune is slow and majestic and "haunting" and thrilling. The theology of the words is impeccable. The song is ancient. . . . and the author is unknown. We have no idea who wrote this. Just some monk sometime before 800 A.D. A time in history we often call "the Dark Ages." Civilization, it seemed, had broken down and mankind was sliding backwards into more chaos, ignorance, pestilence, and unending warfare. But someone, somewhere in a monastery in Europe, penned a song that would reach across the ages to encourage and thrill millions even in the 21st century. Who knew?

During those "Dark Ages" the Bible was inaccessible for most people. But the monk who composed this song must have had a full and rich knowledge of Scripture. The song displays a wealth of phrases from Old Testament prophecies that speak of the coming of the Messiah. He is "the rod of Jesse," the "Dayspring from on high," the "Key of David," and "Wisdom from on high." For the people of the Medieval world who did not have a Bible to read, this was a teaching tool, expressing the hope and truth of Christmas--- the fulfillment of ancient prophecies in the birth of Christ.

But how did this tune become so popular worldwide? In the early 19th century an Anglican priest named John Mason Neale was reading through an ancient book of hymns called the "Psalteroium Cantionum Catholicarum." (Some people golf for relaxation; Fr. Neale read ancient hymns I suppose.) Rev. Neale was a brilliant, but frail gentleman. He could write and speak over twenty languages (!), and should have been a leading scholar/preacher of the Anglican church. Apparently many were jealous of his intellectual prowess, and so through political chicanery he was shunted off to labor in some forgotten church in the Madeira islands near Africa.

But he did not despair.

On a paltry salary he established an orphanage, a school for girls, and a ministry to evangelize and reclaim prostitutes. And while he was tirelessly educating and evangelizing, Rev. Neale came across this hymn of faith in a Latin text. The tune that went with the text was from a 15th century French Franciscan convent of nuns ministering in Portugal. Rev. Neale easily translated the Latin into English and gave the world a song. Soon his translation made it to England, and from there "across the pond" to America and around the world.

A gift was penned by unnamed monks over 1200 years ago. Given a tune by nuns in an obscure convent. Rediscovered by a forgotten evangelist off the coast of Africa. The song of Emmanuel--- "God with us." Hidden for centuries but now enjoyed by millions worldwide. No one does it alone. God is the One who orchestrates history. And the theme of His song is "Emmanuel."

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Have a blessed Advent--a season of expectation!

[Re-start] [ Go to window 25]

We would be glad to accept your support for Advientos project. Thank you!

Window nº 25

Last week's Wildcard Wednesday featured the Skit Guys. Today, we have a message from OneTimeBlind, another excellent drama group.

What would you bring Jesus for his birthday?

This skit gives us an idea of what Jesus might really have on his birthday list.

I pray that this Christmas season will be blessed with the unique presence of Christ your life each day!

Thank you for journeying through Advent together.

Peace.

-Pastor Dean Smith

Advientos Windows

Window nº 1 1-12-2014	It's Music Monday! Each Monday, take time to consider a "timeless classic"--its origins, history, and meaning. The Story of "O Come O Come Emmanuel." By Dr. Jeff Sanders I have loved singing this song at Christmas time. The tune is slow and majestic and "haunting" and thrilling. The theology of the words is impeccable. The song is ancient. . . . and the author is unknown. We have no idea who wrote this. Just some monk sometime before 800 A.D. A time in history we often call "the Dark Ages." Civilization, it seemed, had broken down and mankind was sliding backwards into more chaos, ignorance, pestilence, and unending warfare. But someone, somewhere in a monastery in Europe, penned a song that would reach across the ages to encourage and thrill millions even in the 21st century. Who knew? During those "Dark Ages" the Bible was inaccessible for most people. But the monk who composed this song must have had a full and rich knowledge of Scripture. The song displays a wealth of phrases from Old Testament prophecies that speak of the coming of the Messiah. He is "the rod of Jesse," the "Dayspring from on high," the "Key of David," and "Wisdom from on high." For the people of the Medieval world who did not have a Bible to read, this was a teaching tool, expressing the hope and truth of Christmas--- the fulfillment of ancient prophecies in the birth of Christ. But how did this tune become so popular worldwide? In the early 19th century an Anglican priest named John Mason Neale was reading through an ancient book of hymns called the "Psalteroium Cantionum Catholicarum." (Some people golf for relaxation; Fr. Neale read ancient hymns I suppose.) Rev. Neale was a brilliant, but frail gentleman. He could write and speak over twenty languages (!), and should have been a leading scholar/preacher of the Anglican church. Apparently many were jealous of his intellectual prowess, and so through political chicanery he was shunted off to labor in some forgotten church in the Madeira islands near Africa. But he did not despair. On a paltry salary he established an orphanage, a school for girls, and a ministry to evangelize and reclaim prostitutes. And while he was tirelessly educating and evangelizing, Rev. Neale came across this hymn of faith in a Latin text. The tune that went with the text was from a 15th century French Franciscan convent of nuns ministering in Portugal. Rev. Neale easily translated the Latin into English and gave the world a song. Soon his translation made it to England, and from there "across the pond" to America and around the world. A gift was penned by unnamed monks over 1200 years ago. Given a tune by nuns in an obscure convent. Rediscovered by a forgotten evangelist off the coast of Africa. The song of Emmanuel--- "God with us." Hidden for centuries but now enjoyed by millions worldwide. No one does it alone. God is the One who orchestrates history. And the theme of His song is "Emmanuel." O come, O come, Emmanuel And ransom captive Israel That mourns in lonely exile here Until the Son of God appear Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel. O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free Thine own from Satan's tyranny From depths of Hell Thy people save And give them victory o'er the grave Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel. O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer Our spirits by Thine advent here Disperse the gloomy clouds of night And death's dark shadows put to flight. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel. O come, Thou Key of David, come, And open wide our heavenly home; Make safe the way that leads on high, And close the path to misery. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel. O come, O come, Thou Lord of might, Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height, In ancient times did'st give the Law, In cloud, and majesty and awe. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.
Window nº 2 2-12-2014
Window nº 3 3-12-2014	We are already surrounded by Christmas. Stores, mail, and advertising all remind us of Christmas. Let's pause for just a bit to think about how we can choose to use our time, money, energy differently this season.
Window nº 4 4-12-2014	On Thursdays, take a moment to be thankful for what God has done! At the 2014 Thanksgiving Eve worship service, the Klein family shared their thankfulness for the technology that helps bring them together as a family and as people of faith. Question: For what technology are you thankful right now?
Window nº 5 5-12-2014	Photo Friday! In December of 2012, Trinity's Advent celebration included several weeks of "Casting Call"--dramas that helped us wonder about the unique lessons we can learn from those who were present at the birth of Christ. Over the course of several weeks, we were reminded that this is not our story. This is God's story. We learned that this is the most important story known to humanity, so we should share it. We learned how easily we can be distracted from the main thing by the high activity of the season. We were also reminded to remember the "big picture" of God's work in the world rather than getting lost in the details. All of those lessons came together on the last weekend before Advent when we had the chance to use our newly expanded Narthex (churchspeak for "lobby) for a living Nativity scene. What a beautiful tableau that reminds us of a wonderful season!
Window nº 6 6-12-2014	Story Saturday! Here is a special story for your Christmas preparation. "Papa Panov's Special Christmas" by Leo Tolstoy. It was Christmas Eve and although it was still afternoon, lights had begun to appear in the shops and houses of the little Russian village, for the short winter day was nearly over. Excited children scurried indoors and now only muffled sounds of chatter and laughter escaped from closed shutters. Old Papa Panov, the village shoemaker, stepped outside his shop to take one last look around. The sounds of happiness, the bright lights and the faint but delicious smells of Christmas cooking reminded him of past Christmas times when his wife had still been alive and his own children little. Now they had gone. His usually cheerful face, with the little laughter wrinkles behind the round steel spectacles, looked sad now. But he went back indoors with a firm step, put up the shutters and set a pot of coffee to heat on the charcoal stove. Then, with a sigh, he settled in his big armchair. Papa Panov did not often read, but tonight he pulled down the big old family Bible and, slowly tracing the lines with one forefinger, he read again the Christmas story. He read how Mary and Joseph, tired by their journey to Bethlehem, found no room for them at the inn, so that Mary's little baby was born in the cowshed. "Oh, dear, oh, dear!" exclaimed Papa Panov, "if only they had come here! I would have given them my bed and I could have covered the baby with my patchwork quilt to keep him warm." He read on about the wise men who had come to see the baby Jesus, bringing him splendid gifts. Papa Panov's face fell. "I have no gift that I could give him," he thought sadly. Then his face brightened. He put down the Bible, got up and stretched his long arms to the shelf high up in his little room. He took down a small, dusty box and opened it. Inside was a perfect pair of tiny leather shoes. Papa Panov smiled with satisfaction. Yes, they were as good as he had remembered- the best shoes he had ever made. "I should give him those," he decided, as he gently put them away and sat down again. He was feeling tired now, and the further he read the sleeper he became. The print began to dance before his eyes so that he closed them, just for a minute. In no time at all Papa Panov was fast asleep. And as he slept he dreamed. He dreamed that someone was in his room and he know at once, as one does in dreams, who the person was. It was Jesus. "You have been wishing that you could see me, Papa Panov." he said kindly, "then look for me tomorrow. It will be Christmas Day and I will visit you. But look carefully, for I shall not tell you who I am." When at last Papa Panov awoke, the bells were ringing out and a thin light was filtering through the shutters. "Bless my soul!" said Papa Panov. "It's Christmas Day!" He stood up and stretched himself for he was rather stiff. Then his face filled with happiness as he remembered his dream. This would be a very special Christmas after all, for Jesus was coming to visit him. How would he look? Would he be a little baby, as at that first Christmas? Would he be a grown man, a carpenter or the great King that he is, God's Son? He must watch carefully the whole day through so that he recognized him however he came. Papa Panov put on a special pot of coffee for his Christmas breakfast, took down the shutters, and looked out of the window. The street was deserted; no one was stirring yet—no one except the road sweeper. He looked as miserable and dirty as ever, and well he might! Whoever wanted to work on Christmas Day—and in the raw cold and bitter freezing mist of such a morning? Papa Panov opened the shop door, letting in a thin stream of cold air. "Come in!" he shouted across the street cheerily. "Come in and have some hot coffee to keep out the cold!" The sweeper looked up, scarcely able to believe his ears. He was only too glad to put down his broom and come into the warm room. His old clothes steamed gently in the heat of the stove and he clasped both red hands round the comforting warm mug as he drank. Papa Panov watched him with satisfaction, but every now and then his eyes strayed to the window. It would never do to miss his special visitor. "Expecting someone?" the sweeper asked at last. So Papa Panov told him about his dream. "Well, I hope he comes," the sweeper said. "You’ve given me a bit of Christmas cheer I never expected to have. I'd say you deserve to have your dream come true." And he actually smiled. When he had gone, Papa Panov put on cabbage soup for his dinner, then went to the door again, scanning the street. He saw no one. But he was mistaken. Someone was coming. The girl walked so slowly and quietly, hugging the walls of shops and houses, that it was a while before he noticed her. She looked very tired and she was carrying something. As she drew nearer he could see that it was a baby, wrapped in a thin shawl. There was such sadness in her face and in the pinched little face of the baby that Papa Panov's heart went out to them. "Won't you come in," he called, stepping outside to meet them. "You both need a warm by the fire and a rest." The young mother let him shepherd her indoors and to the comfort of the armchair. She gave a big sigh of relief. "I'll warm some milk for the baby," Papa Panov said, "I've had children of my own- I can feed her for you." He took the milk from the stove and carefully fed the baby from a spoon, warming her tiny feet by the stove at the same time. "She needs shoes," the cobbler said. But the girl replied, "I can't afford shoes, I've got no husband to bring home money. I'm on my way to the next village to get work." Sudden thought flashed through Papa Panov's mind. He remembered the little shoes he had looked at last night. But he had been keeping those for Jesus. He looked again at the cold little feet and made up his mind. "Try these on her," he said, handing the baby and the shoes to the mother. The beautiful little shoes were a perfect fit. The girl smiled happily and the baby gurgled with pleasure. "You have been so kind to us," the girl said, when she got up with her baby to go. "May all your Christmas wishes come true!" But Papa Panov was beginning to wonder if his very special Christmas wish would come true. Perhaps he had missed his visitor? He looked anxiously up and down the street. There were plenty of people about but they were all faces that he recognized. There were neighbors going to call on their families. They nodded and smiled and wished him Happy Christmas! Or beggars…and Papa Panov hurried indoors to fetch them hot soup and a generous hunk of bread, hurrying out again in case he missed the Important Stranger. All too soon the winter dusk fell. When Papa Panov next went to the door and strained his eyes, he could no longer make out the passers-by. most were home and indoors by now anyway. He walked slowly back into his room at last, put up the shutters, and sat down wearily in his armchair. So it had been just a dream after all. Jesus had not come. Then all at once he knew that he was no longer alone in the room. This was not dream for he was wide awake. At first he seemed to see before his eyes the long stream of people who had come to him that day. He saw again the old road sweeper, the young mother and her baby and the beggars he had fed. As they passed, each whispered, "Didn't you see me, Papa Panov?" "Who are you?" he called out, bewildered. Then another voice answered him. It was the voice from his dream- the voice of Jesus. "I was hungry and you fed me," he said. "I was naked and you clothed me. I was cold and you warmed me. I came to you today in every one of those you helped and welcomed." Then all was quiet and still. Only the sound of the big clock ticking. A great peace and happiness seemed to fill the room, overflowing Papa Panov's heart until he wanted to burst out singing and laughing and dancing with joy. "So he did come after all!" was all that he said.
Window nº 7 7-12-2014	Sunday Reflection - Preparation When you are whitewater rafting, there is a moment of quiet calm at the top of a rapid. It's that moment when I check to make sure I have a firm grip on my paddle, my feet are firmly tucked in, and I'm doing nothing but listening to the water rushing by and waiting to hear paddle commands from the guide. There is no turning back. No getting out of the boat. Only waiting...expecting...hoping that I am ready for whatever is about to happen in the next 3 minutes of whitewater. I have some ideas, but, really, I have no way of knowing exactly what is going to happen to the raft and my fellow paddlers. It's a great reminder of faith. I don't know what's going to happen today, tomorrow, next week. I don't know what God's plans are for me and my family. I don't know what the end of time will look like, and I have only the slightest inkling about what will herald Christ's return. I know this: I am prepared with the promises of God. I have heard the promise that says that Jesus "will be with you to the end of the age." (Matthew 28: 20) I have heard the promise that says there is no place, no person, and no power that can separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus. (Romans 8: 38-39) For these reason, I feel I am prepared for whatever God has in store for me. In what do you place your confidence as you move into God's future for you? How do you feel prepared? - Pastor Dean Smith
Window nº 8 8-12-2014	Music Monday! "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" is a favorite carol to share as it bestows a blessing on those whom the carolers have come to visit: God Rest Ye Merry! However, very little is known of the origins of this song. Its first publication date is 1833, but its author is unknown. Charles Dickens' in his _A_Christmas_Carol, refers to this tune: "...at the first sound of - 'God bless you merry, gentlemen! Let nothing you dismay!' - Scrooge seized the ruler with such energy of action, that the singer fled in terror, leaving the keyhole to the fog and even more congenial frost." The video features sisters Justine and Kerris Dorsey with a fun combination of "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" and another favorite, "Carol of the Bells."
Window nº 9 9-12-2014	The Christmas tree is a strong symbol of Christmas. It serves as the family’s center of attention. In fact, it is the center of most Christmas ceremonies all over the world. Christmas is about traditions and memories, and symmetric and beautifully decorated Christmas trees are something that the entire family will always value and remember. Every year, between 25 and 30 million Americans celebrate Christmas with Christmas trees, thus, the scent of a freshly cut Christmas tree enlivens the Christmas spirit among most Americans. Christmas trees have a long and exciting history. During the pre-Christian era, people and tribes often had holy groves and trees where they sacrificed to the gods. The trees were most often oak or ash, and they symbolized a connection between heaven and earth. Similar ideas are found in the Old Testament – trees symbolized wisdom and life. In the 15th and 16th centuries, German tradesmen began to hold parties where a spruce was placed inside a home. Another story tells of how the German theologian and reformer, Martin Luther, put candles on the leaves as symbols of the stars twinkling among the forest’s trees. In the 17th century, the tradition of decorated Christmas trees in connection with festivities spread out to the German towns, and from there, to other parts of Europe. Even if the first Christmas tree in the USA, perhaps, can be traced all the way back to 1777, Christmas trees did not become popular in the USA until the middle of the 18th century. An image of the English royal family standing in front of a Christmas tree was copied and brought to the USA in 1850. This resulted in the American upper classes embracing the Christmas tree. In the following decades, the tradition of Christmas trees in living rooms became popular among the rest of the population. [From allthingschristmas.com] (Photo credit: Dean Smith. This is one of the "heirloom" kinds of ornaments that used to be on our tree when I was younger, and on my Grandma Smith's tree before then. It's old, beautiful, and durable.)
Window nº 10 10-12-2014	It's Wildcard Wednesday! Do you have a Nativity scene in your home? What makes it special? What does it mean to you when you set it up each year? Have you--as Pastor Todd suggested--removed Jesus from the scene until Christmas Eve? Nativities come in all kids of shapes, sizes, and themes. Mark Ostreicher, a well-respected youth ministry guru, has compiled a collection of some of the weirdest nativities around. Enjoy! Copy the link below and paste it in your browser to see: http://whyismarko.com/the-50-worst-and-weirdest-nativity-sets/comment-page-2/#comment-1211821
Window nº 11 11-12-2014	It's another Thanksgiving Thursday! Today, we hear from Trinity's Lead Pastor, Todd Buegler, as he shares about his sense of thanksgiving during this Advent. In short, he is thankful for a community that rallies around the mission of the Gospel to make a difference in the world. How have you been ministered to? How have you ministered to others? Thanks to God for the ways that we can be a community together! (One of the things for which I'm thankful is that we have great videographers in our community so that our film clips are usually much better than this one. - Pastor Dean)
Window nº 12 12-12-2014	Photo Friday! It's a new look at a Christmas tree that invites us to rethink our traditions, our preferences, our habits of this season. Have you taken the opportunity to ask "Why?" Why do we decorate the tree this way? Why do we always play this game? Why do we have this kind of food? Sometimes asking "Why?" can help us remember important people, stories, and experiences that have shaped us in wonderful, surprising, and meaningful ways. As you take a new look at this "old" symbol, pray that God will open you up to ask "Why?" and appreciate and enjoy the stories behind your traditions (and maybe encourage you to try some new ones).
Window nº 13 13-12-2014	It's Story Saturday! Here's another story that reminds us of some of the important lessons of Christmas. The author was Henrietta Eliza Vaughan Stannard, a novelist who frequently published under the pseudonym John Strange Winter. A Christmas Fairy by John Strange Winter It was getting very near to Christmas time, and all the boys at Miss Ware's school were talking about going home for the holidays. "I shall go to the Christmas festival," said Bertie Fellows," and my mother will have a party, and my Aunt will give another. Oh! I shall have a splendid time at home." "My Uncle Bob is going to give me a pair of skates," remarked Harry Wadham. "My father is going to give me a bicycle," put in George Alderson. "Will you bring it back to school with you?" asked Harry. "Oh! yes, if Miss Ware doesn't say no." "Well, Tom," cried Bertie, "where are you going to spend your holidays?" "I am going to stay here," answered Tom in a very forlorn voice. "Here - at school - oh, dear! Why can't you go home?" "I can't go home to India," answered Tom. "Nobody said you could. But haven't you any relatives anywhere?" Tom shook his head. "Only in India," he said sadly. "Poor fellow! That's hard luck for you. I'll tell you what it is, boys, if I couldn't go home for the holidays, especially at Christmas--I think I would just sit down and die." "Oh, no, you wouldn't," said Tom. "You would get ever so homesick, but you wouldn't die. You would just get through somehow, and hope something would happen before next year, or that some kind fairy would--" "There are no fairies nowadays," said Bertie. "See here, Tom, I'll write and ask my mother to invite you to go home with me for the holidays." "Will you really?" "Yes, I will. And if she says yes, we shall have such a splendid time. We live in London, you know, and have lots of parties and fun." "Perhaps she will say no?" suggested poor little Tom. "My mother isn't the kind that says no," Bertie declared loudly. In a few days' time a letter arrived from Bertie's mother. The boy opened it eagerly. It said: My own dear Bertie: I am very sorry to tell you that little Alice is ill with scarlet fever. And so you cannot come for your holidays. I would have been glad to have you bring your little friend with you if all had been well here. Your father and I have decided that the best thing that you can do is to stay at Miss Ware's. We shall send your Christmas present to you as well as we can. It will not be like coming home, but I am sure you will try to be happy, and make me feel that you are helping me in this sad time. Dear little Alice is very ill, very ill indeed. Tell Tom that I am sending you a box for both of you, with two of everything. And tell him that it makes me so much happier to know that you will not be alone. Your own mother. When Bertie Fellows received this letter, which ended all his Christmas hopes and joys, he hid his face upon his desk and sobbed aloud. The lonely boy from India, who sat next to him, tried to comfort his friend in every way he could think of. He patted his shoulder and whispered many kind words to him. At last Bertie put the letter into Tom's hands. "Read it," he sobbed. So then Tom understood the cause of Bertie's grief. "Don't fret over it," he said at last. "It might be worse. Why, your father and mother might be thousands of miles away, like mine are. When Alice is better, you will be able to go home. And it will help your mother if she thinks you are almost as happy as if you could go now." Soon Miss Ware came to tell Bertie how sorry she was for him. "After all," said she, smiling down on the two boys, "it is an ill wind that blows nobody good. Poor Tom has been expecting to spend his holidays alone, and now he will have a friend with him--Try to look on the bright side, Bertie, and to remember how much worse it would have been if there had been no boy to stay with you." "I can't help being disappointed, Miss Ware," said Bertie, his eyes filling with tears. "No; you would be a strange boy if you were not. But I want you to try to think of your poor mother, and write her as cheerfully as you can." "Yes," answered Bertie; but his heart was too full to say more. The last day of the term came, and one by one, or two by two, the boys went away, until only Bertie and Tom were left in the great house. It had never seemed so large to either of them before. "It's miserable," groaned poor Bertie, as they strolled into the schoolroom. "Just think if we were on our way home now--how different." "Just think if I had been left here by myself," said Tom. "Yes," said Bertie, "but you know when one wants to go home he never thinks of the boys that have no home to go to." The evening passed, and the two boys went to bed. They told stories to each other for a long time before they could go to sleep. That night they dreamed of their homes, and felt very lonely. Yet each tried to be brave, and so another day began. This was the day before Christmas. Quite early in the morning came the great box of which Bertie's mother had spoken in her letter. Then, just as dinner had come to an end, there was a peal of the bell, and a voice was heard asking for Tom Egerton. Tom sprang to his feet, and flew to greet a tall, handsome lady, crying, "Aunt Laura! Aunt Laura!" And Laura explained that she and her husband had arrived in London only the day before. "I was so afraid, Tom," she said, "that we should not get here until Christmas Day was over and that you would be disappointed. So I would not let your mother write you that we were on our way home. You must get your things packed up at once, and go back with me to London. Then uncle and I will give you a splendid time." For a minute or two Tom's face shone with delight. Then he caught sight of Bertie and turned to his aunt. "Dear Aunt Laura," he said, "I am very sorry, but I can't go." "Can't go? and why not?" "Because I can't go and leave Bertie here all alone," he said stoutly. "When I was going to be alone he wrote and asked his mother to let me go home with him. She could not have either of us because Bertie's sister has scarlet fever. He has to stay here, and he has never been away from home at Christmas time before, and I can't go away and leave him by himself, Aunt Laura." For a minute Aunt Laura looked at the boy as if she could not believe him. Then she caught him in her arms and kissed him. "You dear little boy, you shall not leave him. You shall bring him along, and we shall all enjoy ourselves together. Bertie, my boy, you are not very old yet, but I am going to teach you a lesson as well as I can. It is that kindness is never wasted in this world." And so Bertie and Tom found that there was such a thing as a fairy after all.
Window nº 14 14-12-2014	Joy or Happiness? I remember asking a group of high schoolers if there was a difference between joy and happiness. There were several responses, and a great conversation followed. Joy, the group decided, has deeper roots than happiness. Happiness is fleeting, but joy is a character trait. We can be joyful without feeling happy. We can even be happy without joy (but happiness is that much happier when it comes out of a person's deep joy). It was a great discussion. As we wrapped up our time, I asked one of my usual questions, "So what?" We decided that Christians should aim for Joy in life. Joy is among the fruits of the Spirit listed in Galatians 5: 22-23. Joy comes with the deep-seated confidence in God's promises--promises of life, peace, salvation, and hope. Our "so what?" was that Joy comes as the result of faith. In this season of holy expectations, may the gift of Joy give you strength and peace. May the Joy that comes with the certainty of God's salvation shine through you as a gift to be shared with others. Have a Joyous (and maybe even happy) Advent! - Pastor Dean Smith (Photo credit: Dean Smith. This is the ornament on our tree that reminds us of my mom whose name is Joy.)
Window nº 15 15-12-2014	The Author of Away in a Manger remains unknown. Some early works suggested it was written by Martin Luther, although this appears unlikely. It is probably a late-nineteenth-century American carol. The first published appearance is in the 1885 Philadelphia The Little Children's Book for Schools and Families. Richard S. Hill, who was head of the reference section of the Library of Congress, researched the origins of the carol and concluded it was likely a poem read in Lutheran children's celebrations of the 400th anniversary of the birth of Luther in 1883. The third verse did not appear until 1892 in a collection edited by Charles H. Gabriel. The tune of the song is not universal. Indeed, over forty different tunes have been placed alongside the lyrics in hymn books. In the UK the most popular is William J. Kirkpatrick's Cradle Song which is a Gospel song. Kirkpatrick was the music director for the Grace Church in Philadelphia and compiled a total of eighty-seven gospel song books! In the USA the main tune used with the lyrics is James R. Murray's 1887 Mueller. Away in a Manger is one of the most popular Christmas carols. A 1996 Gallop Poll revealed that it was the joint second most popular carol in Britain along with "O Come All Ye Faithful." Away in a Manger's contents have very little foundation in the actual text of the Bible. The Bible does not contain any references to cattle at the birth, nor does it say that Jesus did not cry as a baby. [From awayinamanger.org] This video features beloved singers John Denver, Kathy Mattea, and Patty Loveless from John Denver's 1991 special, "Montana Christmas Skies."
Window nº 16 16-12-2014	The Medieval History of the Christmas Cookie It’s the most wonderful time of the year, when cooks around the country take to their kitchens to bake cookies galore. Whether you prefer gingerbread men, crisp springerle or crunchy biscotti, chances are you’ll enjoy some fresh baked Christmas cookies this holiday season. Like many Christmas traditions, the origin of this delicious custom lies ages ago, in solstice rituals conducted long before Christmas became the huge commercial holiday it is today. Winter solstice festivals have been held for eons, across the world. From Norway to West Africa, Ireland to India, groups of people gathered to celebrate the changing of the seasons. Celebrations revolved around food; after all, you had to feast before the famine of the winter. Solstice often meant the arrival of the first frost, so animals could be killed and kept safely to eat through the winter, and fermented beverages like beer and wine that had been brewed in the spring were finally ready to drink. As any modern host knows, a hearty roast and a stiff drink need just one thing to complete the party: dessert. By the Middle Ages, the Christmas holiday had overtaken solstice rituals throughout much of present-day Europe. However, the old feast traditions remained. And while the roast and drink recipes were probably quite similar to what earlier Europeans had enjoyed, the pastry world was experiencing some amazing changes. Spices like nutmeg, cinnamon and black pepper were just starting to be widely used, and dried exotic fruits like citron, apricots and dates added sweetness and texture to the dessert tray. These items, along with ingredients like sugar, lard and butter, would have been prized as expensive delicacies by medieval cooks. Only on the most important holiday could families afford treats like these, which led to a baking bonanza to prepare for Christmas. And unlike pies or cakes, cookies could be easily shared and given to friends and neighbors. Our modern Christmas cookies date back to these medieval gifts. Though cookies have come a long way since medieval times, some things haven’t changed. Many Christmas cookies are still heavily spiced. We think of “traditional” Christmas flavors like cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger, and those are exactly the same spices medieval cooks would have used in their cookies ages ago. Gingerbread is a classic Christmas cookie, and yet it’s also a cookie that would have tasted strikingly similar back in the Middle Ages. Ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg and mace combine to make a snappy, spicy taste, just like they would have back then. And gingerbread uses molasses as a sweetener, something that medieval cooks would appreciate as refined sugar was so expensive. These cooks would not have made gingerbread men, however. The first person to try that was none other than Queen Elizabeth I of England, who had the cookie molded into the shapes of her favorite courtiers. [From The History Channel at history.com]
Window nº 17 17-12-2014	It's another Wildcard Wednesday! Today, we get a chance to see a method actor who takes his role as Joseph in the Living Nativity very seriously. Don't let the humor fool you. There is a serious, powerful message to be heard. In response to his thoughts at the end of the video: could you do it?
Window nº 18 18-12-2014	It's another Thanksgiving Thursday! Here's a little of what Pastor Dean Smith is thankful for this time of year.
Window nº 19 19-12-2014	For this Photo Friday, here's an excerpt from the 11/22/14 Owatonna People's Press: "Whether it’s Facebook or Norman Rockwell or Charles Dickens, temptations abound to compare our holiday experience with an ideal that doesn’t exist. We wish we could photoshop, airbrush, and edit our families, our decorations, our merriest of celebrations to achieve a level of perfection that even a Dayton’s window couldn’t match. Why? Why do we have such a hard time accepting who we are—warts and all? Scripture reminds us that we are “fearfully and wonderfully made” by a God who loves us—even in our imperfect, messed up condition. That doesn’t mean we don’t set goals or seek knowledge or do what we can to become the person we believe God intends for us to be, but it does make me wonder why we drive ourselves to despair—especially this time of year—because we are not “living the dream.” What if the dream you’re trying to live isn’t yours? You can’t live well when you’re trying to live a life that isn’t yours. As the calendar leads us to Thanksgiving, I pray that you’ll be able to give thanks for where God has led you thus far in life—good, bad, and/or ugly. Once we turn our attention to the season of waiting, Advent, I hope you have traditions that are worth celebrating—even if they are unique to your family and no one else really “gets” them. As Christmas morning dawns, I pray that you’ll welcome the news of a Savior who comes into this fallen, broken, messed up world with a promise of life—real life. Yours is a unique and blessed life. Just as it is. Photoshopping is not required."
Window nº 20 20-12-2014	It's Story Saturday! Mike Pilavachi is one of Pastor Dean's favorite speakers. This little video gem features Mike reading "A Visit from Saint Nicholas" (also known as "The Night Before Christmas"). From Wikipedia: "A Visit from St. Nicholas", also known as "The Night Before Christmas" and " 'Twas the Night Before Christmas" from its first line, is a poem first published anonymously in 1823, and later attributed to Clement Clarke Moore, who acknowledged authorship in 1837. The poem, which has been called "arguably the best-known verses ever written by an American," is largely responsible for some of the conceptions of Santa Claus from the mid-nineteenth century to today. Prior to the poem, American ideas about St. Nicholas and other Christmastide visitors varied considerably. It became a popular poem which was set to music and was recorded by many artists.
Window nº 21 21-12-2014	We are rapidly approaching the quiet part of Christmas. The pageants, the parties, the shopping, the cookie swaps, the gift exchanges, the Everything that contributes to our Christmas exhaustion is winding down. At 5:00 or so on Christmas Eve, the stores begin to close. Families arrive at their Christmas destinations. Worship services fill. Our focus narrows from a large, busy world to only those people immediately around us. Our focus shifts away from the complicated mess of pre-Christmas crazy to a very simple story involving only a few main characters as they gather around a bed of hay mysteriously lit with a heavenly glow. Those quiet moments of contemplation are beyond the capacity of words to describe. Usually, they are expressed by a simple sigh...of contentment at God's goodness, of sadness at the absence of an departed loved one, of wonder at how all of God's design works. And the only feeling that comes to mind is Love. Love of what was. Love of what is. Love of those around us. Love of all that is to come. This season--with all of the hype--comes down to a very simple gift of Love. But this Love is more than any love there is. This Love commands a capital L. This is the Love that changed the future of the world. The explosion of activity that surrounds this season still cannot drown out the central message of the Good News of salvation and hope: God's mighty "I Love You."
Window nº 22 22-12-2014	For this Music Monday, we celebrate the history of one of the most beloved and revered of Christmas hymns: Silent Night. While there are several legends surrounding the origins of this song, its story begins in 1818. "In 1818 the carol "Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht" was heard for the first time in a village church in Oberndorf, Austria. The congregation at that Midnight Mass in St. Nicholas Church listened as the voices of the assistant pastor, Father Joseph Mohr, and the choir director, Franz Xaver Gruber, rang through the church to the accompaniment of Father Mohr's guitar. On each of the six verses, the choir repeated the last two lines in four-part harmony. On that Christmas Eve, a song was born that would wing its way into the hearts of people throughout the world. Now translated into hundreds of languages, it is sung by untold millions every December from small chapels in the Andes to great cathedrals in Antwerp and Rome. The German words for the original six stanzas of the carol we know as "Silent Night" were written by Joseph Mohr in 1816, when he was a young priest assigned to a pilgrimage church in Mariapfarr, Austria. His grandfather lived nearby, and it is easy to imagine that he could have come up with the words while walking through the countryside on a visit to his elderly relative. The fact is, we have no idea if any particular event inspired Joseph Mohr to pen his poetic version of the birth of the Christ child. The world is fortunate, however, that he didn't leave it behind when he was transferred to Oberndorf the following year (1817). On December 24, 1818, Joseph Mohr journeyed to the home of musician-schoolteacher Franz Gruber who lived in an apartment over the schoolhouse in nearby Arnsdorf. He showed his friend the poem and asked him to add a melody and guitar accompaniment so that it could be sung at Midnight Mass. His reason for wanting the new carol is unknown. Some speculate that the organ would not work; others feel that the assistant pastor, who dearly loved guitar music, merely wanted a new carol for Christmas. Lyrics 1. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht! Alles schläft; einsam wacht Nur das traute heilige Paar. Holder Knab im lockigten Haar, Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh! Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh! 2. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht! Gottes Sohn, o wie lacht Lieb´ aus deinem göttlichen Mund, Da schlägt uns die rettende Stund. Jesus in deiner Geburt! Jesus in deiner Geburt! 3. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht! Die der Welt Heil gebracht, Aus des Himmels goldenen Höhn Uns der Gnaden Fülle läßt sehn: Jesum in Menschengestalt, Jesum in Menschengestalt 4. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht! Wo sich heut alle Macht Väterlicher Liebe ergoß Und als Bruder huldvoll umschloß Jesus die Völker der Welt, Jesus die Völker der Welt. 5. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht! Lange schon uns bedacht, Als der Herr vom Grimme befreit In der Väter urgrauer Zeit Aller Welt Schonung verhieß, Aller Welt Schonung verhieß. 6. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht! Hirten erst kundgemacht Durch der Engel Alleluja, Tönt es laut bei Ferne und Nah: Jesus der Retter ist da! Jesus der Retter ist da! 1. Silent night! Holy night! All's asleep, one sole light, Just the faithful and holy pair, Lovely boy-child with curly hair, Sleep in heavenly peace! Sleep in heavenly peace! 2. Silent night! Holy night! God's Son laughs, o how bright. Love from your holy lips shines clear, As the dawn of salvation draws near, Jesus, Lord, with your birth! Jesus, Lord, with your birth! 3. Silent night! Holy night! Brought the world peace tonight, From the heavens' golden height Shows the grace of His holy might Jesus, as man on this earth! Jesus, as man on this earth! 4. Silent night! holy night! Where today all the might Of His fatherly love us graced And then Jesus, as brother embraced. All the peoples on earth! All the peoples on earth! 5. Silent night! Holy night! Long we hoped that He might, As our Lord, free us of wrath, Since times of our fathers He hath Promised to spare all mankind! Promised to spare all mankind! 6. Silent night! Holy night! Sheperds first see the sight. Told by angelic Alleluja, Sounding everywhere, both near and far: "Christ the Savior is here!" "Christ the Savior is here!" [from http://www.icce.rug.nl/~soundscapes/VOLUME02/Silent_Night_History.shtml]
Window nº 23 23-12-2014	It’s no secret that I thoroughly enjoyed the time I worked at Sears in the Summit Place Mall in Waterford, Michigan. My memories are especially vivid this time of year, and those memories have led to me to my own personal tradition to celebrate on this Tradition Tuesday. I loved the pre-Christmas season in Sears Hardware department. I loved the frantic pace. I loved the constant activity. I loved the opportunity to exercise my tact and diplomacy skills—especially on Christmas Eve Day. I also loved the moment in the car after I clocked out and went to the parking lot. I loved the quiet. I loved the calm. I loved sitting down after 9 hours on my feet! It was good to be still during the ride home. It was even better to be still during the Christmas Eve Candlelight Service despite my sore knees and aching feet. Driving home after midnight past the many closed stores was always meaningful to me. It was my best understanding of Peace on Earth. Which leads me to the present day… I still do a Closed Store Tour every Christmas Eve after the late service. I leave church and drive downtown. I head to Cashwise, up to Wal-Mart, across to Lowes, down to Target, and over to Fleet Farm. (Sorry, Hy-Vee, I live on the west side of town.) At each of those stops, I pray for the people who work in those stores. I pray for peace and rest over the next day. I pray for their aching joints and muscles. I pray for their hurt feelings from customers’ misplaced anger. (I pray for the Hy-Vee folks, too.) I pray for an island of peace between the last-minute frenzy and the day-after bargains. All this is to encourage each of us in these busy days before Christmas to remember that the people on the other side of the name tag are Children of God who are loved and forgiven and good. Please pray for them. Please be kind. Let there be peace on earth…and let it begin in Housewares…or Sporting Goods…or in the Dairy Department… - Pastor Dean Smith
Window nº 24 24-12-2014	It's Wildcard Wednesday. It's also Christmas Eve. Question: What are you expecting this Christmas? Here are some beautiful thoughts on all of the unexpected things about this amazing story of God's great love.
Window nº 25 25-12-2014	Last week's Wildcard Wednesday featured the Skit Guys. Today, we have a message from OneTimeBlind, another excellent drama group. What would you bring Jesus for his birthday? This skit gives us an idea of what Jesus might really have on his birthday list. I pray that this Christmas season will be blessed with the unique presence of Christ your life each day! Thank you for journeying through Advent together. Peace. -Pastor Dean Smith