How can I understand all that has happened?  At times I feel like a plaything, a toy boat tossed about on a pond by the dirt clods some boy is throwing at it.  Can I be sure that it is God who is talking to me?  Does it not seem presumptuous on my part that the Lord would communicate with this son of Eli?  The dream or vision, could it not have been that spicy meal I had eaten or maybe some sour wine I’d drunk?  I am no priest or scribe, how can I expect God to speak to me?

          Lord, those who laugh at me openly don’t hurt so much, but I grieve at the sneers and whispers about my beloved Mary.  Others shake their heads at me when they think I don’t see; am I a fool to believe all that I think you have told me?  When she told me that she was with child, my heart stopped, Lord.  She of whom I have loved and longed for had been with another!  After all, that is what is needful for such to happen isn’t it, Lord?  How could I marry her now, but if I publicly confront her, she’d be stoned!  Lord, how can I let such happen to my Mary?  I still love her, Lord, and I am trying to understand all that is happening.  How can I, a simple carpenter who has become a plaything of God?

          She looked so beautiful at the betrothal.  My breath left me whenever our eyes met; so much promised in a look!  How I worked to prepare a home for us, then the whispers began.  Mary returned from visiting Elizabeth already showing her condition- and the story she told me!  How can such things occur in our simple village?  We are not related to the priests in Jerusalem, Lord.  We are simple people!

          Have I erred in keeping Mary as my wife?  The dream I had, what the angel said about her – and the child within her!  I would have to be mad to believe it!  But when I talked with Mary, the tears in her eyes…  Lord, I love her so!

          Now, here outside this ….CAVE!  Dear God, I would expect such a child to be born in a palace with many attending to Mary.  But this filthy place!  How can I but wonder where this child came from when we are forced to a hovel such as this to bring a child into the world.  God of Israel, help me to understand!  Help me to see your hand in all this.  How can Messiah be born in such a place?

          There!  I said it!  The Messiah!  After all these years of waiting is it really the time we've yearned for, or am I the victim of a hoax?  Help me, Adonai to see you in all this.  Calm my heart that I may comfort Mary and protect her son.  Her son!  Is it pride, God, that has me so worked up?  Am I jealous of the father of this child?  But who is he?  What the angel said.  How is that possible?  Am I, like our father Jacob, wrestling against God?  Help me to know what is true, Lord.  Calm my heart.

          If this child is indeed Messiah, how can I teach him?  How does a carpenter raise God’s Son, the King of kings?  Lord, every time I accept this, more questions come.  What do I do, Lord, to provide for all that will be needed?  My shop and my customers are all in Nazareth.  How can I hope to begin all over again here when I can’t even find a clean home – such a provider to birth a baby in a cave?

          A baby, your Son?  Incredible!  The Son of God coming to visit us by being born to my Mary?  Here?  In a stable?  Insanity!  Dare I really believe this?  Dare I not?

          
This was originally written while I was incarcerated; in it I sought to imagine myself in Joseph's place, how would I react to the events surrounding the birth of the Christ-child?  How this man must have wrestled; how many of us still do with the idea of Immanuel entering His creation in such a manner.  A blessed and wondrous Christ-mas to all.
 

 

“This day is called the feast of Crispian:

He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,

Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,

And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

He that shall live this day, and see old age,

Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,

And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian:’

Then he will strip his sleeve and show his scars.

And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’

Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,

But he’ll remember with advantages

What feats he did that day…

And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remember’d;

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition

And gentlemen in England now a-bed

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.”

King Henry V, Act 4. Scene III by William Shakespeare

 

There is a brotherhood among those who have ‘seen the elephant’ in its many guises; my own service in submarines provided one particular episode on my first patrol that I’m still not sure whether I can discuss it publically, but that those who were there can and should stand tall as we did our duty that day at risk of our lives and all we hold dear.  The biggest enemy we had in the boats was the ever-present, implacable sea whose pressure always sought to force a way into our steel tube, but the Soviets and their allies provided some moments of challenge as well.

For my brothers who fought our nations’ enemies in other areas as well as those who stand facing our enemies today, may the reading of the speech attributed to King Henry V by Shakespeare give you courage and well-earned pride at your service.  Liberty is costly; those who enjoy the freedom that is theirs by right as citizens of the United States are debtors (acknowledged or no) to those who have once written a blank check to the government, especially who cashed out in their blood.

 

 

In a recent lesson at the Chapel Hill Bible Church, James Abrahamson while teaching on ethics used a quote from the movie, Saving Private Ryan, where the central character asks his wife this question, “Did I live a good life?” A very poignant question in light of how just previously in the movie (a flashback to events in which Ryan was rescued by a platoon led by an officer played by Tom Hanks, of whom most had been killed during the effort to find Ryan) Captain Miller (played by Tom Hanks) lay dying of his wounds, he grabs Ryan and tells him, “Earn it!” referring to the sacrifices of his men who were killed ensuring he would return home.

This hammered me as few things could; I've seen the movie and did not recall either quote, but looking back online saw that these two quotes did indeed occur, the turmoil they have caused within my own heart is beyond description.  These two brief sentences seemed to highlight a struggle I've had recently; on one part I recognize that nothing I can do can earn the grace God has given me in Christ, but how to answer the question that the older Ryan asks his wife?  Dare I ask that of anyone, even myself?

I did serve in the military; both in the Navy as a nuclear-trained electrician mainly on board a ballistic missile submarine and in the Army Reserve as a field medic while going to school at UNC.  My career as a nurse and paramedic were abbreviated by an egregious decision which led to my being incarcerated following my causing a patient’s death in ICU.  To many (most it seems considering how I have remained unemployed since my release) that one decision erases all the ‘good’ that I've ever done.  As I related this once to a friend, it seems the feeling among the vast majority of folks is “…once convicted, always condemned!” 

So, how would I answer the question Ryan asked his wife?  How would those who know me answer it?  Dare I ask it?