Do you ever hear voices from your childhood? I do. I can still hear the promises. Like my parents, as they assured me, if I worked hard, then my hard work would pay off as I could create a life for myself and my future family.
I can still hear my teachers, encouraging me to study hard for every challenge, promising me if I would apply myself, get good grades, then I could go to any college I wanted and have whatever career I chose. I was eight. I did not know if I wanted to go to college. I didn’t know if you needed to go to college to be an astronaut. They assured me that I did.
From my coaches, I still can hear their voices, calling me by my last name, “Jones! Hustle! Get in the game! Get in the game!” The promise was there, if I worked hard, I might get to become a ‘starter’. I never made it. I was too slow. There wasn’t a sport that by the time I got off the bench and into the game, half the season wasn’t over. Still, I can hear them pushing me onward so that one day, I could drink from the cup of glory, whatever that was.
Among those voices, promising rewards for my effort, there was one other. A mysterious, legendary giant of a man. He promised me rewards for being good, tangible gifts of my own choosing to celebrate just how good I had been. He watched over me, paying close attention to who and how I was at home and at school, keeping track of everything I did, assuring me that if I was just good enough, I could make “The List”. He got me so excited about what I might get that I could barely sleep trusting that I had been a good boy and would make the cut. I still remember what we said about him, what we sang about him.
He’s making a list. He’s checking it twice,
gonna find out who’s naughty or nice…
He sees you when you’re sleeping,
he knows when you’re awake.
He knows when you’ve been bad or good,
so be good for goodness sake!
Besides being the mascot for Macy’s, Santa gives the basic message of society, the one we were all raised to believe, and the one we’ll likely pass on to our children, our cultural crowd’s norm: Do good, be good, and guaranteed, you’ll be rewarded. Do poorly, be bad, and sooner or later, guaranteed, you’ll be punished.
That’s what the shepherds must have been thinking when the angel appeared in the sky, “Uh-oh! Here it comes!” Punishment was surely on the way. The King James version states, “They were sore afraid,” which, to my young ears, always meant so scared it hurt.
The angel told them, “Fear not…” those beautiful words spoken on the first Christmas and the first Easter by messengers from God, “Fear not…” Perhaps the shepherds relaxed a little, realized they were in the midst of something wonderful, the work of God, not the typical reward and punishment, but good news… of grace.
“Fear not for behold I bring you tidings of great joy, for unto is born this day, in the city of David, a savior, who is Christ the Lord!”
“Fear not… for unto you…” Grace. The best Christmas gift ever.
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Books and Blogs by David W. Jones
