In this Issue

* From the Pastor

* “Of Lizards and Kings”, Andree Seu

Coming Key Dates

* Communion Sunday, February 3

* Ladies Morning Bible Study,  begins February 6, 9:30 am, Rossview House

January/February Birthdays

* Natalie Tragaser, January 3

* John Wyatt Arnold, January 4

* Michelle Dobay, January 4

* Linda Bullock, January 9

* Katie Graves, January 16

* Kristen Dobay, January 21

* Megan Arnold, January 21

* Natalie Felts, January 23

* Mary McCorkle, January 27

* Kay Hickman, January 30

* Juli Simpson, February 7

* Nicholas Lee, February 7

* Rosabeth Nelson, February 21

* Trey O’Connor, February 27

From the Pastor...

“Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow”

Well, I suppose the title gave me away.  I like snow.  I like the look, the feel, the novelty, and the memories it brings.  I like thinking back to the days of yesteryear and the evenings spent on my Radio Flyer tearing up and down ice-packed streets on its wax-slicked runners.  I like remembering the night I joined in with a pack of other hoodlums in our neighborhood and – wanting nothing more than to see our winter joy continue on for a few more blissful days – attacked the poor man driving the snowplow with a barrage of snowballs.  I’m not sure he recalls that evening as fondly as I do.  PARENTAL DISCLAIMER:  The pastor has not lost his mind (not entirely).  I am not advocating the assault of public workers under any circumstances.  Not really.

For those who live in climates where snow falls in abundance each winter, it’s something of a commonplace.  The opposite, of course, is true for us here in “Tuckassee.”  Even more so for the writers of the Bible where snow was (and still is in that part of the world) something rare and had a more exotic and noteworthy feel to it.  I found the insights from The Dictionary of Biblical Imagery (InterVarsity Press, 1998) helpful here.  Snow would occasionally fall in Jerusalem, which is situated on a mountain top.  But the sight of snow was usually from a distance, taking on a quality of transcendence (see Psalm 68:14; Jeremiah 18:14).  The rarity of such wintry weather is hinted at in the account of Benaiah, “a valiant man” and a “doer of great deeds” (see 2 Samuel 23:20).  One of his great deeds was to kill a lion in pit “on a day when snow had fallen,” a detail that would indicate the noteworthy nature of such a snowfall.  When the psalmist says that God “gives snow like wool” and “scatters hoarfrost like ashes” (see Psalm 147:16), the point seems to be at least partly that God can control even the mysterious and unknown.   In a climate where snow falls only once every several years and brings understandable hardship for those not prepared for it, snow is also linked to other hostile forces in nature – fire and hail, mist and wind (see Psalm 148:7).  Thus, the resourcefulness of the godly wife described in Psalm 31 is reflected in the fact that “she is not afraid of the snow for her household, for all her household are clothed in scarlet” (see Proverbs 31:21).  In reminding Job of the mystery and power of His ways, God pointedly asks, “Have you entered the storehouses of the snow…which I have reserved for the time of trouble?” (see Job 38:22-23; 37:6)

But snow is mentioned in other ways in the Bible, especially the figurative.  Leprosy is compared to its whiteness (see Exodus 4:6; Numbers 12:10; 2 Kings 5:27).  There are associations to harsh cold (see Psalm 147:16-17; 148:8; Proverbs 25:13; 31:21) and yet also refreshing coolness (see Proverbs 25:13).  The inevitability of God’s purposes coming to pass is tied to the falling of snow to earth bringing growth to crops (see Isaiah 55:10-11).  And the destruction of the wicked is compared to the sure melting of snow (see Job 24:19). 

The most well known image of snow, however, pertains to purity and especially the forgiveness of sins (see Psalm 51:7; Isaiah 1:18).  Indeed, there is also the transcendent brightness of God himself (see Daniel 7:9), the transfiguration (see Mark 9:3), of the angel at the resurrection (see Matthew 28:13), and of Christ standing amidst the lampstands (see Revelation 1:14).

It really shouldn’t surprise us that we would see so many references to natural phenomenon in the Scriptures.  It is, after all, a story of real times and places.  Nor should it surprise us that it lends itself to such rich imagery.  We can learn from this.  The Creator has left His fingerprints on all He has made.  Indeed, we can learn much of the Creator from what He has made.  Which should encourage us to open up our eyes a bit wider.  And pray for snow.

Of lizards and kings

Now that Christmas is packed up, it’s back to our bondage  Andrée Seu

So the baby is born. Now what?

The problem with baby kings is that they grow up and want to rule. Say what you want about Herod the Great, he was not confused on this point. The man who would be tetrarch at Rome's pleasure saw the handwriting on the wall: If this man is king, then I am not. The town isn't big enough for both of us.

Have you ever asked yourself why the inquiries of the Persian astrologers (whom we fete on Jan. 6) shook up not only Herod but "all Jerusalem with him" (Matthew 2:3)? For that matter, have you ever wondered why it is that when Jesus freed a Gerasene resident from his demons, the story did not end, "then the people all hailed Jesus as their savior and king," but ended thus: "then the people began to plead with Jesus to leave their region" (Mark 5:17)?

Queen Elizabeth of Great Britain, now there's the kind of royalty we want in our lives. The Beatles sang, "Her Majesty's a pretty nice girl, but she doesn't have a lot to say. Her Majesty's a pretty nice girl, but she changes from day to day. I want to tell her that I love her a lot, but I gotta get a belly full of wine. Her Majesty's a pretty nice girl. Someday I'm gonna make her mine, o yeah. Someday I'm gonna make her mine."

Christmas was mostly fun, and now we can pack it up in boxes till next year. It's all under our control, which is the way we like it: "In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes" (Judges 21:25). Having some autonomy, that's the thing. Jesus is a little pushy when He moves from swaddling clothes and Hallmark cards to a whip of cords in the Temple. It's all right that He performed an exorcism on that poor man, but why drive all our pigs into the sea and drown them (Mark 5:11-13)? Isn't a man's livelihood sacred anymore!

C.S. Lewis tells of a strange encounter between an Angel and a man with, shall we say, a "lizard" problem (The Great Divorce). The man and the twitching red creature on his shoulder are inseparable, the reptile constantly whispering things into his ear, the man sometimes smiling in response but overall wearied of the relationship—and therefore grateful when the Angel offers assistance. "'Then I will kill him,' said the Angel, taking a step forward. 'Oh—ah—look out! . . . You didn't say anything about killing him at first. I hardly meant to bother you with anything so drastic as that.' 'It's the only way,' said the Angel."

When it comes to the point, the man is reluctant to be freed of the lizard and desperately fabricates a variety of excuses: "I'm sure I shall be able to keep it in order now. I think the gradual process would be far better than killing it." "The gradual process is of no use at all," replies the Angel. Finally the truth is outed: "Get back! You're burning me. How can I tell you to kill it? You'd kill me if you did."

The lizard now unsheathes his coup de grace, whispering more loudly than ever into the man's ear: "He can do what he says. He can kill me. One fatal word from you and he will! Then you'll be without me for ever and ever. It's not natural. How could you live?"

And there it is. We love our bondage, when it comes right down to it. We want to keep the status quo, thank you very much. Oh, there are aspects of it we like to complain about, but all in all it works for us. In fact, we are deeply committed to the way things are. Jesus is a threat to our "lizards" (too embarrassing to go into descriptive detail here), and we are convinced that we can't live without them—not any kind of meaningful living, at least.

Those who submit to the surgery find it hard, but survivable. Nor do they ever want to see that wretched lizard again, for a glorious stallion has grown from its smoldering ashes. Let Jesus be King.

Copyright © 2008 WORLD Magazine
January 12, 2008, Vol. 23, No. 1