Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

A huge thank you, faithful readers and friends, for interacting with my blog this past season. Thanks for all your sharing of posts, for your comments, e-mails, and tweets. I’m going to press pause on the blog during the holiday season and will be back in early January.

Hand-drawn Christmas card by Burton "Pat" Christenson, (1920-1999) one of the original Band of Brothers.

If you missed it, I had a highly vulnerable sort of article run on Art of Manliness this past week. The essay has received some strong response, both in the comment section and from readers e-mailing me personally to say they were greatly inspired by it or could relate in big ways. See it HERE or cut and paste this URL into your browser: http://artofmanliness.com/2012/12/18/nuts-why-remembering-christmas-1944-can-change-your-life/

 

If you're new to this site, please take some time to browse around and enjoy past articles. My aim is to offer insight into four main areas: 1) manly character, 2) career & business, 3) relationship & family, and 4) purpose & faith. I always welcome your comments and interaction, no matter what your world-view is.

Today, my encouragement is simply to take some time to enjoy the original Christmas story as taken from the Gospel of Luke, chapter 2 (below), and enjoy spending time with your loved ones and friends this week.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

—Marcus

 

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to his own town to register.

So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.

While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.

But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.

This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”

 

 

What to Do with this Week’s News

Hold all that you can—

about this past week’s news of the tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut.

If your head, heart, and soul are full and overflowing right now, like mine are at this moment, hold all that you can … and then set aside the enormity of your response. Place it somewhere for later processing. Do this with all that’s deep within you.

That’s often how it works best with events too large for words.

Meanwhile, keep going.

Finish your work this week, like I need to do. Over the weekend, conclude your last minute preparations for the holiday season, like my wife undoubtedly will do for my family. Bless her. Then celebrate Christmas next Tuesday with family and friends. That’s what’s on my calendar.

Read the Christmas story by a roaring fire. Watch It’s a Wonderful Life. Open presents. Eat turkey, mashed potatoes, dressing, cranberry sauce, and that great green bean casserole with the crunchy onions on top.

Later, much later, turn on a copy of Silent Night and really listen to the words.

Just when it’s you.

Just when you have a moment to think.

 

Silent night, holy night.
All is calm, all is bright.
Round yon virgin, mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Sleep in heavenly peace.

Silent night, holy night.
Shepherds quake at the sight.
Glories stream from heaven afar;
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia,
Christ the Savior is born.
Christ the Savior is born.

Silent night, Holy night.
Son of God, love's pure light
Radiant beams from Thy holy face,
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus Lord at thy birth.

Jesus Lord at thy birth.

When the music is over, and all is quiet, begin to sort through your sorrow, rage, confusion, and grief.

You see, right now is a strange juxtaposition of holiday season with tragedy.

Yes, there is joy.

Yes, there is pain.

And we are wondering if it’s okay to hold them both.

It’s okay.

One, a horrific reminder of a broken world.

The other, a mighty promise of Peace on Earth.

 

Question: How are you processing the news right now?

 

 

The Most Overlooked Command Ever

Commemorative painting of the Stigler/Brown encounter by John D. Shaw, courtesy Valor Studios.

“Love your enemies.”

—Jesus

Nope, not going to do it.

It makes a ton of sense to love friends, sure. To love our neighbors as ourselves. Even to love people from whom we might gain something.

But to love our enemies? Nah, we hate these folks! At very least, we dislike them powerfully.

On December 20, 1943, in the skies above war-torn Europe, two bitter enemies—an American B-17 bomber pilot and a veteran German fighter ace—met in what is undoubtedly one of World War II’s most remarkable encounters.

The American bomber, piloted by 21-year-old West Virginian Charlie Brown, was severely damaged. Bullets from German fighters had chewed the bomber to pieces. Others bullets had shot straight through the fuselage, and several crew members had been hit and were near death.

The German fighter plane, piloted by Franz Stigler, was poised to blast the bomber from the sky. It was Franz’s job to kill the enemy. His sworn duty was to triumph in blood.

In fact, encountering a wounded bomber was Franz’s lucky break. Other fighters had already done the initial damage, and when Franz flew up to the bomber, it was the most badly damaged airplane he’d ever seen still flying. That meant an easy target. And in the kill-or-be-killed quest to reach air superiority, the odds against the German’s survival were much worse than the American’s. Of the 40,000 German fighter pilots in WWII, only 2,000 survived.

But what happened in that tense moment when Franz and Charlie came to stare at one another across the frozen skies only can be described as other-worldly.

The American 8th Air Force would, in fact, classify the incident as top secret for decades.

The German military sealed the record as well. Franz was ordered never to speak of the act again, at risk of facing a firing squad.

What happened was, very simply …

mercy.

Franz didn’t turn his machineguns on the Americans.

Instead, Franz risked his own reputation, career, and even life, to fly for miles in close proximity to the bomber’s wingtip, providing a “shield” for the damaged enemy plane.

Instead of killing his enemy, the German fighter pilot escorted the sputtering American bomber to safety.

Some explain what happened that day as two warriors fighting under the ancient code of chivalry. The enemies respected each other, at very least.

Others see the incident as an isolated glitch. It was a moment of extraordinarily odd warfare, never to be repeated.

For some, it can be surprising, even unnerving, to discover that a member of “the wrong side” can be decent.

I call the incident true religion.

In incidents of war, like in incidents of life, even good men sometimes forget their own souls. When German fighter Ace Franz Stigler was alone in the presence of his enemy, he was master of his own decisions. His enemies’ lives were in his hands. Yet Franz chose to remember his humanity.

He flew by a higher call.

Today, when we are in the presence of people we dislike, or people who may actually be our enemies, our invitation is to do the same.

 

Read the fuller account of Franz Stigler and Charlie Brown in the new book

A HIGHER CALL (Penguin) by Adam Makos with Larry Alexander,

available everywhere December 19.

Question: Have you ever ‘loved’ an enemy or seen an incident where someone else has? What happened?

 

When Truth Trumps Niceness

Years ago I worked alongside a difficult co-worker. This young man seldom had anything good to say to anybody.

He was affable when he wanted to be. But he often interacted with people using sarcasm or putdowns. His favorite salutation, one used co-workers and even sometimes customers, was, “How’s Dummy today?”

For the first while I found myself giving this man the benefit of the doubt. His behavior irked me, yes. But I constantly dismissed his actions, explained them away, or swept them under my emotional rug.

I said to myself, “Oh, he’s only this way because his marriage is difficult.” Or, “He’s only being a jerk because he woke up the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

I tried to answer kindly when he offered insults. A lot of people did. But time went on, and the man didn’t change. At least not as far as I could tell.

Today I look back and wonder if that sort of response to the man actually backfired. We were all so nice to him. Yet that’s the total of all we were … nice. And that method of dealing with the man enabled him to continue his negative course, unchecked.

The kindness itself was not intrinsically wrong. Our gentle responses weren’t evil. But I know now that I erred in overlooking one extremely important response in dealing with this man …

The truth.

Truth was that this man’s actions were wide of the mark. He was unprofessional, demeaning, and unkind. And he needed to be fired. That was the truth.

Did I ever once, when insulted, say something to the man as straightforward as,

“You know, friend … what you just said is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard,”

... and just let lie the awkwardness that might have resulted?

Those of us who come from Judeo-Christian backgrounds tend to see our faith as a consistent directive to be nice to everybody, all the time.

But not even Jesus was always nice. Not in the sense of the word that means overly-accommodating.

To their faces, Jesus called his day’s hypocrites “white-washed tombs.” Meaning—they were people who looked good on the outside, but inside were full of death.

Once Jesus called Simon Peter, one of his closest friends, “Satan,” and told Peter to get out of the way and get behind him. Peter was longing for riches and fame, not justice and reconciliation, the true things of God.

Yes, there’s a huge place in this world for niceness, for kindness and gentleness, for giving people soft answers, and for turning away wrath. We can always use more Mr. Nice Guys.

But there’s also a huge place in this world for speaking the truth—speaking it as lovingly, barefaced, professionally, and boldly as you dare.

If something is absurd, call it absurd.

If something is wrong, call it wrong. Maybe only to yourself. Maybe to a person who needs to be confronted.

Even Jesus did.

 

Question: how do you find the balance between speaking the truth, and speaking it in love?