Telling Time

Parochialism takes lots of expressions, but perhaps the least noticed is the way we tell time. Not everyone tells time the way we Americans do. The Chinese tell time differently. Their New Year begins in the spring rather than on January 1. Jews tell time differently too. Their New Year, called Rosh Hashanah (literally “head of the year”), is in the fall. A calendar is merely a way of organizing time for some purpose - social, cultural, commercial, administrative, or religious. How you tell time can be a telling indicator of what you value, what you think important, how you order your life.

Through the Wardrobe with C. S. Lewis

A lot of people got their first introduction to C. S. Lewis in December of 2005, when their kids dragged them to see the movie The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. Today, the third installment in the series is released - The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (I paid a whole $1.95 for the book when I bought it!). The films are based on the children’s series Lewis penned called The Chronicles of Narnia. In the story four children travel through a magical wardrobe to emerge in the strange and mystical land of Narnia where animals speak and the world is locked in a perpetual Christmas-less winter while awaiting Spring that seems destined never to dawn.

My own introduction to Lewis, however, goes back to my college days in the 70’s when I studied English. A professor, knowing I was headed for seminary, suggested that I read Lewis as a model for the minister’s primary task of helping people to make sense of faith in their day-to-day lives. I devoured his writings voraciously, and he became for me a conversation partner with whom to discuss the “big issues.” Lewis’ writings have not only stood the test of time, but he himself has become for me, save Jesus of Nazareth, the single most important intellectual influence on my life.

God Incognito (An Advent Sermon)

One of my favorite Shakespearean plays is Henry The Fifth. The last of his great chronicle plays or histories, Henry The Fifth represents the zenith, the pinnacle of this genre for the Bard of Avon. In many ways, the play is more epic than drama. England and France, ancient enemies, engaged in mortal combat for national supremacy, testing the mettle not only of men but nations. And in that great engagement England is led by her last great hero-king, Henry, Prince Hal of Henry The Fourth, Parts One and Two, now king, with the fortunes of his nation weighing heavily on his shoulders.

My favorite scene in that marvelous play is Act IV, Scene 1, the speeches at Agincourt on the night before the great battle. “If these men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the King that led them to it!” says Michael Williams, an ordinary private, sitting around the fire with three other soldiers, all musing about the battle first light brings. They don’t know it, but one of them is no ordinary private. One of them is King Henry himself, disguised as a common soldier so that he might pass among his men and talk with them of blood and battle, life and death – man to man, heart to heart without the constraint of office or ceremony to impede their candor.

It’s a powerful moment, and perhaps more than any other, helps to define the character of the King. Rex Incognitus, the King in disguise. Putting aside privilege and position, he moves among them as one of them, because they matter to the King. And though they don’t realize it at the time, these common soldiers have gained an access to the King that would not have been possible had he remained remote and distant from them.

Now I don’t know for sure, but I think that should the writer of the Fourth Gospel have had the opportunity to read that scene from Shakespeare’s play, he would have said: “Ah, that’s it!”