Category: Uncategorized (Page 7 of 26)

Weight loss has been in the news a lot lately. It is the annual “Start-over-turn-over-a-new-leaf” habit folks get into each New Year. Warped use of medical concoctions–both prescriptions and flaunted fake ones—feed this craze; fasting is often mentioned as a way to lose weight For a long time fasting has been used by human beings—for myriad uses in many variations.

But, I am making a left turn here: Encyclopedia Britannica defines fasting; abstinence from food or drink or both for health, ritualistic, religious, or ethical purposes. John Wesley, the father of Methodism, practiced fasting faithfully, from sundown on Thursday to sundown on Friday. A fairly familiar time of fasting in the religious realm is during Lent, which begins on Ash Wednesday—like Easter, the date varies according to the Moon—this year it is next Wednesday—February 14,

During Lent Fasting will be observed by many of the faithful— the world over—and in many forms. It will go from foregoing a practice, or habit (or favorite food); or giving up all food but water—yet there is also a form of fasting called “Water Fasting—not recommended unless supervised by your medical doctor; actually, almost any fasting over a period of time should have your doctor’s approval.

Typically, your Faith connection gives healthy guidelines for fasting. I recommend the chapter on Fasting in Richard Foster’s book, The Celebration of Discipline. It is detailed, sensible, and a clear focus on the reason to fast—not just during Lent, but also other spiritual disciplines. The late Dallas Willard, a Baptist Professor and author has an excellent book with chapter on Fasting. (Spirit of the Disciplines— I think it is out of print now, but you can likely find it in Bookshop.org ).

The U. S. Catholic says; The practice of eating fish is related to the day we typically abstain from meat: Friday. This is the day that Christ died, so abstaining from the shedding (and consuming) of blood seems appropriate. Friday, the sixth day, was also the day that God created animals, so abstaining from meat is a symbolic “stay of execution” for cows, pigs, and sheep—just as the cross saves us from eternal death..

Although each of us has personal Faith practices, Jennifer, my daughter and I look forward to Fridays in Lent. We we like get “Fish on Fridays” at Holy Cross Catholic Church in Tucker durning Lent. I don’t get a free dinner for saying this, but they do a really great job; from guiding the drive-thru pick-up-and-pay line to the masterful manner in which they quickly shuttle your delicious meal(s) to your car window.

A culinary precursor to Lent is Shrove Tuesday, or “Fat Tuesday,” the day before Ash Wednesday. It originated out of the need to empty cupboards of fat ingredients to prevent the household from breaking fast during Lent. (Kinda forces fasting!) The day(s) is also called Mardi Gras—a wild carnival-like celebration concluding Fat Tuesday—you know, the last blast of gaity before the sober sojourn into the 40 days of Lent. A secular spinoff of Fat Tuesday, many Pancake houses often offer popular pancake deals on Shrove Tuesday —usually called by another name—like “Pancake Day.”.

Many of these assorted ways of observing Lent can, and often do, gravitate to excess. Faithful Christians tend to take seriously Jesus’ guidance about shedding ego -involvement and abuse of spiritual practices. He pointed out abusive practices, for example in prayer; the Pharisee and the Tax Collector. Or the proud man lifting his own piety above others. Jesus called for simple direct discipleship, not comparative behavior. My favorite counsel Jesus gave his disciples is a simple, quiet directive. It is not about the vanity of weight loss, or superior spiritual vigor. It is to draw close to God.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024

As the drumbeat of this year’s political detritus pelts us, I felt this a good time to share with you, my reader, a piece I wrote several years ago:

Atul Gawande wrote: Better is possible. It does not take genius. It takes diligence. It takes moral clarity. It takes ingenuity. And above all, it takes a willingness to try….

...and, I might add, it takes courage. It is not the courage of the mighty warrior, or the one highly trained in battle. It is that moral compass that draws one to the high road. The road of persistence. Paige, my late wife, kept a placard on her desk. It read:

Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, “I will try again tomorrow.”

You and I both know of folks like that; at the end of every day, they go to bed tired, often empty, and/or weary of their circumstances–broken dreams, vocational concerns, dealing with health issues (their own, or those for whom they are caretakers)–yet they rise with the sun to take on the new day. 

As Atul Gawande wrote, “Better is possible,” even though it seems impossible. All it takes to see that truth, is to look around, from the beautiful lily emerging from the messy mud of a pond, to the frail nest of twigs holding an eaglet, to a magnificent cathedral. Impossible?  Looks that way, but my,  what a result!!  The words of the Frankie Lane song ring in my ears; 

I believe for every drop of rain that falls
A flower grows
I believe that somewhere in the darkest night
A candle glows
I believe for everyone that goes astray
Someone will come to show the way

As poetic as it is, there sings a truth that surpasses the senses or intellect. What we often call the “real world” often cries in protest that better is not possible, saying “We’re going to Hell in a Handbasket!”  An old political quote, that is funnier than it was helpful back then complained of the “Nattering Nabobs of Negativism.” We do, of course, often face the naysayers. But more from Frankie Lane, lifts our spirits:

Every time I hear a newborn baby cry
Or touch a leaf
Or see the sky
Then I know why
I believe 

Although the words stop short of saying “…in God.” it is implicit. Of course many of us—I would hope—all of us know that belief in God does make “Better Possible.” Not long ago, Mayor Bottoms of Atlanta told the crowd, in the face of some horrors, “We are Better than this!” It was echoed often by other leaders, official and non official. Better is Possible.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore June 2020

Groundhog Day is next week. Pennsylvania has its famous February 2 weather prognosticator, Punxsutawney Phil. Lest you forget, in Georgia we have our own famous—well, sort of famous—Groundhog Day Weather Prognosticator—General Beauregard Lee. Below is his castle and signet,

General Beauregard Lee will emerge from his happy habitat early in the morning of February 2, to herald horrible or hopeful weather for the next six weeks. For decades General Beauregard Lee held forth from Stone Mountain, GA. Since 2018, he gleefully guided Groundhog Day celebrations from his cosy cove at Dauset Trails Nature Center, Jackson, GA.

Beginning in 1981 The General predicted three long winters and thirty-nine early springs (one year there was no report). Next Friday, we will learn if we will have an early Spring or a long Winter. Stay tuned. If you’re bustin’ to know his prognostication for 2024 immediately, you can scurry over to Dauset Trails Nature Center near Jackson, GA for February 2 —-be there before dawn for his report–and enjoy the celebration planned around this remarkable event. Who cares what Punxsutawney Phil says! The General has a 60% accuracy as contrasted with Punxsutawney Phil‘s weak 30% accuracy.

Georgia, with its motto—Wisdom, Justice, Moderation, stakes out a pretty substantial conflation of glory. Not so much with General Beauregard Lee. Right away his original name was a bit troublesome; the little rodent’s  (Marmota monax, also known as a woodchuck) name was changed to the current one—more whimsical, not to mention more acceptable. The General started out at the Yellow River Game Ranch in DeKalb County, GA. The Game Ranch later fell into hard times, and caring souls saw to it that he came to live and thrive at Dauset Trails Nature Center in Butts County. Each year his February 2, festival draws crowds to celebrate—hopefully continuing his winning steak of predictions!

I have never made a Winter-Spring prediction, but I will take a stab at it here: look for an early Spring—Draw and Quarter me if I’m wrong. Groundhog Day gives a good reason to celebrate such a whimsical myth as this. In the midst of winter’s wrongs it is good to get a lift for the human spirit. Cold days and long nights tend to be mood altering. Although Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) affects less than 19% of the population, celebrating Groundhog Day just may fit the bill for us all.

Brain and Behavior Research Foundation points out that most of us are affected to one degree or another during cold, dark, shorter, solitary days of winter. Some folks have feelings of lethargy or loneliness which tend to cause “winter blues.” We all tend to go through winter blues sometimes—usually briefly. Maybe the Northern Mockingbird songs in mid-winter can draw us out of winter blues. Birdsong certainly is a cheerful contrast to gloom.

When Winter hits, myriad opportunities for joy and hope spring up all about; Winter Solstice, New Year’s Day, MLK Day of Service, Ground Hog Day, Mardi Gras, St. Valentine’s Day, St Patrick’s Day, and Easter–to name a few celebrations. Without researching it, I posit that most of these celebrations could also be means by which the human community can successfully navigate winter blues. Winter is a time of preparation for Spring and the rest of the seasons.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore January 2024

Growing up out in “the sticks,” we did not have running water. My grandfather had a windmill that pumped water into a tank providing a reasonable facsimile of running water. I am told that he rigged a spray nozzle under the water tank so he could take his daily bath. Early each morning he would go out for a shower under the tank. The story is that one freezing morning, he had to take a fat pine torch to melt the ice clogging the fixture. Then he he took his daily shower, had breakfast, and went to open his store; that’s a story for another time.

This week, while watching the Kansas Chief’s (successful) play-off game–in record-breaking low temperatures—my attention was fixed on Andy Reid, their coach. Although there were huge heaters all around, Reid plied the sidelines—with rapt attention to every move and heartbeat of his team—while icicles formed on his mustache! It was interesting that the TV cameras switched often to Reid’s icicle-swathed mustache. He was undisturbed—Icicles or not, he focused on his team.

Not only does the Brrrrr of icicles bring out the brave, the Burrrrr also brings out beauty. A friend recently posted a picture online of an icicle clinging tenaciously to the roof, capturing a morning sun ray. When a sun-ray glistens on an icicle it often casts a prism of color. It’s sparkle is spectacular. Every icicle is unique and invites a glance of joy, maybe even launching a nostalgic trip down a trail of happy memories.

Even when icicles cause water pipes to freeze, not all is bad. I remember times of deep freezes. Frozen water plays havoc with cooking. My parents would gather us around the fireplace, improvising meals over the open fire. We toasted sandwiches using a wire popcorn basket, and made hot chocolate in the tin coffee pot. Bacon or ham sizzled on a cast-iron skillet—a sensory ambush pervading the room from the fireplace. As tough as those days were, they yield a wealth of memories.

When on cold days icicles form, warm rays of the sun make our spirits sparkle. I am not a North Pole kind of guy, but when winter’s freezing hits, spectacular scenes pop up; gutters, waterfalls, and sprinkler systems shout arrays of glistening icicles striking a note of joy in my heart. What a spark of joyful surprise when in the midst cold, dark, winter, sunlight pierces the gloom; an icicle sprays a rainbow of color cheeing the heart. It must be something of what Noah’s family experienced, emerging from the Ark and seeing the rainbow; it is a sparkle of hope and new life promised by God as it spreads like the first clear sunrise of spring.

© Copyright Willis H. Moore Jauary 9, 2024

We are awash in conveniences that tend to make us impatient—if not somewhat lazy. Case in point; we get annoyed at minor hinderances—the Internet is slow, traffic is heavy, we have to wait long in the doctor’s office, or in line at the grocery. Annoyances becloud our thinking. Our culture has so conditioned our expectations for instant gratification that we automatically expect to get what we want. We internalize “I want it and I want it now.”

Maybe we have reached the point that we feel that we deserve it—-now. I once heard an illustration of this attitude. A guy was going out his front door one morning and there lay a $20.00 bill on the welcome mat The next morning as he went out, there was another $20.00. Each day it happened all over again. One day he went out and there was no $20.00 bill. He got very upset! “Where is my $20.00 bill?” He groused.

Expectations are created both by how we live and by choices we make. We are born into circumstances that create expectations. Often our expectations rest on a feeling of privilege. As a child, I felt priviledged—we were not by any means wealthy. My grandfather let us live in one of his former tenant houses. Our house was near his store—I felt free to hang out there a lot. My uncle’s machine shop was next door; my cousin and I felt free to play in and around his expensive tools and machines—developing our versions of simple machines. I expected to be loved and accepted entirely. Privilege can ooze into your life undetected. As a result, I cruised through childhood naive and felt inviolable.

Many students now are expecting college acceptance letters—they had sent applications earlier. Their expectations drive them to work harder in school, work on volunteer projects, and develop solid character building habits. I think it is important to have high expectations. Undergirded with integrity, persistence, and ethical principles, even unreasonable expectations can go far; for example, Bishop MIlton Wright said, almost two centuries ago, “Man will never fly.” Almost two decades before Bishop Wright died, his sons, Wilbur and Orrville had successfully launched the aviation era. The boys had high expectations.

I think of Joseph; his youthful high and mighty expectations may have prompted his brothers to fabricate the tale of his grisly death’ the tale they told Jacob, their father. They had sold Joseph to some traders. However, as you may recall, over time and trusting in the God of his fathers, Joseph was able to curate his faith, intellect, and compassion in a redemptive way; it reconciled him with his brothers, and more importantly, laid a trace toward Christ. Expectations can be traitorous or treasured.

© Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024

It seemed as if the entire nation laughed at Atlanta that day in 2014—an event dubbed— Snowmageddon. We did have some snow—-2.6 inches, but the devil-in-the-details was the thick coat of underlying ice. Traffic was slammed by 1 million people (according to one news report) trying to head home. This was complicated by jackknifed 18 wheelers blocking multiple lanes and exits: some of the most gradual grades became impassable hills. People were trapped in their vehicles—some for a day or more. Emergency vehicles were stymied because of sliding, jackknifed tractor-trailers, and cars on treacherous Black Ice.

Perspective was needed to interpret the spectacle. People in northern climes laughed that our more-than-a-dusting of snow that hobbled Atlanta traffic; even local people groused that we didn’t handle it well. Complicating the calamity—1) a dramatic weather phenomenon, rare for our region; 2) we do not backlog ranks of equipped snowplows; nor do we stockpile mountains of sand and ice treatment; 3) it is not economically sound to put millions of dollars into supplies and equipment upkeep that would lie dormant—possibly for years— for rare cataclysmic snowstorms in this region.

It is a matter of perspective. It is humanly impossible to prepare for and avoid all disasters—as we learned from more recent weather-related events—in 2023. We carefully calculate weather threats. We can and do prepare pretty well to mollify weather-related damage; training, preparation, early warnings, and good communication go a long way . But to place a profusion of snowplows and supplies strategically located is unserviceable for this region. The costs could be beyond reach and would crush the public service budget, weighing heavily on the economy.

We tend to avoid essential assessment of much that we take for granted. Another perspective is needed in our daily living; The Old Testament is rife with warnings— laws about eating, drinking, sleeping, walking, ad infinitum—it’s in the Book! Jesus was accused of disregarding the Jewish Law. To mention a few examples; at one time or another he violated Sabbath dietary law—he prepared food for his group on the Sabbath; on another occasion he violated Temple behavior law, he healed a man. He associated with the “Unclean,” the shunned, and the abhorred. Jesus was neither a renegade nor a scofflaw; He simply loved, cared about, and served God’s children. He projected care for the person, over and above adhering to human-made laws. Jesus made it clear that He did not come to destroy the Jewish Law; He intended only to clarify the meaning of the law. He put things in perspective.

© Copyright Willis H. Moore 2024

It’s new! At almost every turn for the past few months, advertisers profusely proclaim their “New!” wares. In most cases the “new” is like a tractor I once saw parked in front of my grandfather’s shop. When I saw it, my eyes gleamed as I called out to my uncle; “Look at that new tractor!” He muttered, “Repainted!” I looked closer—it was bright shiney red. It had all the functions labeled with shiny appropriate decals—-indeed it did —look new! But it was only a painted used machine!

The New Year is just around the corner. It will be new, not just another number on the calendar, but new adventures, opportunities, surprises. in a few days we will be leaving the “Old Year” behind. Sometimes that is hard to do, especially leaving cherished effects, people, places, and poignant memories. But life is change, and each new day brings something new.

The Proclaimer says There is nothing new in the whole world. It is a reminder that all we have or do is build upon the knowledge, experience, and hopes of generations past. The new year is a call to put away melancholy moping over what has been, and reach gladly for what is and is coming. I think of a quote Grandmother Jewel taught me from Maud Muller, by John Greenleaf Whittier; For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: ‘It might have been!‘

New is not abandoning the past—which we cannot do anyway—what is done is passed. New is courageously leaning into the future. Fear of the future puts shackles on the brain—not taking a step for fear of falling. Many agents of change, see failure as possibility; they contend that failure can teach new ways, give new opportunities. I am reminded of my learning to roller skate; I hit the rink floor more times than I can count. But my failures taught me to find sheer joy in gliding gleefully around the rink.

I have not always accommodated change easily. However, I have learned that everything changes. To live is to change. Clinging to the past is like trying to skate, while holding on to the side rail for dear life. You are not skating, you are having no joy; you are letting fear steal your joy. Almost no one can successfully complete a road trip while looking into the rearview mirror.

As “The Teacher” says “There is nothing new under the sun.” The point is that we build upon—or more accurately, improve upon—what is already. Human nature does not change. Like gravity, the reality is there; it influences behavior. The Teacher pointed out that rivers flow, wind blows; the elements simply adjust their impact according to the terrain. The New Year will teach us to live accordingly as we observe, monitor, and adjust. In doing so, we rely on our Compass—God.

You can experience the joy of New Year’s celebration with glee, grasping each new moment and each new day. The Prophet Isaiah calls us to pay attention to the new thing God is doing. It is a worthy vision, not a same-old-same-old. Although some passages in the Book of Revelation, are used in funeral messages they are messages of the new, calling us to look forward to new life.

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2023

Christmas was the indubitable favorite season for Paige, my late wife. And—Christmas never fully arrived for her until she heard the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah. Paige could not carry a tune in a hermetically sealed hand basket—but she loved music, with Handel’s Messiah at the top of her favorites. She was not alone in cherishing Handel’s magnum opus: traditionally, Audience members usually rise to their feet when the famous “Hallelujah” chorus begins. Supposedly King George II was so moved during the London premiere of the Messiah that he stood and then everyone else in the theater followed so as not to offend him.  –(Chicago Symphony Orchestra). Standing for the Hallelujah Chorus is still a common practice.

Early performances of the oratorio had a bumpy journey; occasionally Handel postponed, and sometimes cancelled performances. However, income from performances often lifted London’s Foundling Hospital out of bankruptcy from proceeds of its performances . The Messiah’s enduring quality is based on it’s central message, that Jesus Christ is our center.

Apparently, Handel had first thought of The Messiah as culmination of Easter, following the season of Lent. The Lenten forty-day period of fasting and repentance, he thought, would properly conclude with its triumphant jubilation. And it does also take a significant place in Easter celebration. The first time I heard Handel’s Messiah was at Easter, decades ago in the Presbyterian church down the street from our apartment. It was magnificently delivered!

It did not take long for Handel’s Messiah to become a staple in Advent and Christmas celebrations. Great works of art have a way of embedding themselves into our hearts and minds no matter the time or place. The story closest to what happened— in my humble opinion—it is something of a miracle; Handel took less than a month to compose the 260-page oratorio! According to The Tabernacle, Handel did nothing but compose during the twenty-four days; he ate sparingly, if any; he slept almost not at all, he had little to no communication with his helpers, but remained entirely in his room until the oratorio was completed.

Apparently, his friend Charles Jennens had written a libretto—taken from the Bible based on the life of Jesus Christ—and gave it to Handel. Another dramatic and saving gesture was given to Handel. Funding by a group of charities from Dublin, Ireland, commissioned him to compose a new work. The composition would be for a benefit performance. This event was to help free men from debtors’ prison. Handel would also receive his own commission for composing the work, which in turn helped him on his path to reversing his own misfortune. (Adapted from The Tabernacle).

When Paige was in the nursing home, I had a copy of The Hallelujah Chorus on my iPhone. At Christmas and Easter, I would play the recording for her. I have a compact Boze external speaker that gives authentic sound, giving sense of being in an concert hall. Her eyes always glowed with that glistening, joyful spirit as she drank in the words and music. When you listen—especially to the Hallelujah Chorous from The Messiah, you can understand why people stand as the first notes sound. It is said, without apparent contradiction, that It is the best known and most frequently performed oratorio in Western music. Click on  The Hallelujah Chorus link, and enjoy it this Christmas season!

Merry Christmas to each of you!

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2023

For centuries human beings have gazed into the galaxies desiring to discern the meaning of life, love, and legacies of lore. Hardly any other season is more prolific with star gazing than Christmas. From ancient mystical Magi discerning signs in the sky to the annual “Santa Tracker” by NORAD—lighting up little children’s hopeful eyes—it all convenes into the essence of the season—-Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love.

An exciting new door opened early in 2022 into the galaxies of the Universe. The James Webb Space Telescope (JWST) was successfully launched. Immediately it began to astound not only it’s creators, but also astronomers the world over. Faith Stults, Program Manager at BioLogos ,said From ancient civilizations to modern scientists and everyone in between, we all share a desire to understand where we as humans came from and what our place is in the universe. What might the Webb Telescope reveal to us about (our) big questions (about the heavens and who we are?)

For the first time in history, according to the scientific community, we are observing intricate secrets of the Universe. We are graphically reminded how minute we human beings are. Does it seem that we human beings have deluded ourselves, thinking somewhat like a flea on a chariot wheel? –shouting, “Hey look at the cloud of dust I’m kicking up!”

Some Christians scorn these new discoveries. They fear such views push God out—especially terms like ” The Universe is over 700 million Lightyears old.” My take on that opinion is, “Your God Is Too Small.” (J. B. Phillips) 1953). The JWST opens up new insights and for me—giving faith more room to breathe.

Some folk frantically clutch to one of the Creation stories in the Bible, as a literal account. The Bible is a book of Theology, not a book of Science. The Bible tells the why of humanity, not the how or when. I write this not to fiddle around in semantics, nor diverge deep into discourse. I simply posit that we must never limit God to human dimensions.

That the Magi found Jesus in that little stable. The focus is that Jesus transformed the world –not how, nor when. We are deeply indebted to the vision of St. Francis of Assisi. His focus on the Event lay in the drama at the stable, teaching children and adults, by creating the first “Manger Scene;” it is now virtually ubiquitous. Stories and graphics linger longer in our memory cache.

Ancient voices call attention to awe and wonder of God’s creation. The Psalmist stood in awe of the heavens...When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, The moon and the stars, which You have ordained, What (are we) that You are mindful of (us)?

Therefore it becomes necessary to craft handles on what we can understand while we discern what is. The Apostle Paul pointed out our human limitations; we cannot see fully nor completely understand the complete picture. That is the way of God. God comes to us in little nibbles, or bites. At least that is the way God does things; God came to us in a tiny human being...for unto us a child is born… and we take up the vision from there. The crux of it all is summed up in a hymn by Phillips Brooks; O come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Emmanuel!

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2023

The world was recovering from WWII when my uncle T. Jeff returned from “Over Seas.” He had served in the U. S. Army Air Corps stationed in Burma. He came home and married a girl he met in Mississippi during his training. Uncle T. Jeff enjoyed being back on the farm. He started using the old Farmall tractor grandaddy had when The War started. Often he would put me on the tractor seat beside him as he tilled the fields. (OSHA would have frowned on that!) I loved it—that tractor was heaven.

Christmas was approaching and I dreamed of a toy tractor under our Christmas tree. Living away out in the country, I did not visit store displays; television was not widely in used, but I had my visions of a toy tractor—under the Christmas tree. The nation was recovering from The War—conditions were meager for all— our lives were meager as well, being a young child, I was unaware of the big picture.

As Christmas drew near, my hopes hung on what Santa Claus would leave under the Christmas tree—a shiny red Farmall tractor was all I could imagine. I didn’t specify the color or the brand—everybody knows that a tractor is a red Farmall. On Christmas Eve, I tried hard to get to sleep, giving Santa Claus plenty of time to bring that tractor. Christmas morning came; my little sister and I dived into what Santa Claus brought; candy, some fruit, and, toys(I think). No tractor. Apparently I was able to hide my disappointment, for soon we left for Christmas dinner at my grandfather’s.

On the way home that night, it occurred to me, “maybe I didn’t look closely enough.” Early the next morning I searched again under and in the tree. No luck. Even after we tossed the tree into the woodpile, I went out there to look a few more times; zilch.

The next year, apparently economic conditions were somewhat better. I had dismissed the tractor idea. On Christmas morning there were two red Farmall tractors under the tree. I was pleased but perplexed. Looking back, I now realize that what my parents could not afford earlier—these two tractors were there to make up for last year’s disappointment.

There could be myriad lessons from that Christmas. The one I take, and think is more valuable is, things often bring disappointment; Joy comes from that deep, inner peace. Oh, things can excite, but that deep, undergirding joy issuing in peace and satisfaction is fecund. You do not produce joy you experience, you receive joy. One of my favorite Christmas Carols is Joy to the World! Come to think about it, Paige’s wedding march was Ode to Joy! by Ludwig van Beethoven.

Luke writes, in his Gospel, of the joy that followed the Shepherds in the field— being afraid—in the tumult of living under the oppressive Roman government and no Messiah in sight—they had great disappointment—and plenty reason to be afraid. As the Angels sang to them, one Angel said,  Don’t be afraid! I am here with good news for you, which will bring great joy to all the people.

Today our lives are tossed about by pressures, politics, and pundits. Disappointment hovers ominously. This season of Advent brings assurance that great joy is ours as we lift our hopes above things that disappoint—and will pass away. We give our attention to the only One who can give lasting joy. Isaac Watts wrote the thrilling words— Joy to the world, the Lord is come. Let Earth receive her King. Let every heart prepare Him room, and Heaven and nature sing

©Copyright Willis H. Moore 2023