Just Like the Ones I Used to Know

 (Last in a 4-part series on popular Christmas songs)

On May 11, 1888, in the village of Tyumen, Russia, a baby was born to a Jewish couple by the name of Beilin. They named him Israel. In the mid-1890’s, the family fled the region to escape persecution of the Jewish community. They ended up in New York City and changed their surname to Baline.

A gifted musician, young Israel worked as a street singer in his teens, then a singing waiter. In 1907, at the age of 19, he published his first composition for a song called Marie From Sunny Italy. On the sheet music, Baline’s name was misspelled as “I. Berlin.” He decided to keep the name and was known as Irving Berlin from then on.

Berlin married Dorothy Goetz in 1912, but she died only months later from typhoid fever contracted on their honeymoon. Following this event, his compositions reflected his grief.

In 1925, he fell in love with an heiress named Ellin Mackay, but her father opposed the courtship because the Mackays were Catholic and Berlin was Jewish. Mackay sent his daughter away to Europe.

Again, Berlin’s loss inspired some beautiful tunes during their time apart. When Ellin returned to America, however, the couple eloped. More sadness followed. The Berlins lost their first child, Irving Berlin Jr., on Christmas Day in 1928. He was 24 days old. Three other children were born into their lifelong union. Ellin died in 1988. The following year, Irving died at 101.

Irving Berlin & the cast of White Christmas

I find it ironic that a Jewish man who did not celebrate Christmas wrote what became the most popular Christmas tune ever. The 1942 film Holiday Inn introduced White Christmas, sung in the film by Bing Crosby. His version is the best-selling single of all time. The movie won a 1943 Academy Award for the song. In 1954, Berlin’s creation became the title track of another Bing Crosby Christmas musical, White Christmas—a must-see on some folks’ December movie list every year.

The appeal of the song is clearly pure nostalgia. Written during WWII, it resonated with soldiers spending the holiday in hot climates and longing for home. This classic appeals to us now because we want our Christmas time to include snow, glistening treetops, sleigh bells, and Christmas cards…none of which have anything to do with the first Christmas. In fact, the Israelite baby born in a town in the middle of a desert probably didn’t experience any of those things for his entire 33 years on this planet.

Funny, isn’t it?

Far be it from me to criticize, though. In 2006 I wrote a stage script called Just Like the Ones I Used to Know. We performed the play several nights as part of the annual Christmas banquet at Portage Alliance Church. In 2010, the script was published by Eldridge Plays and Musicals. Since then, it’s been produced by 29 different groups around Canada and the USA (not counting any inevitable shysters who circumvent the proper registration and royalties process.) My play is a far stretch from any of Irving Berlin’s successes, but the story pulls at the heartstrings in a similar fashion as the characters remember the Christmases of their childhood. Now, every time I hear White Christmas, I think of the year we performed that play, the laughter and tears it brought to our audience, and the friends who breathed life into my characters. (Yes, I’m talking about you Nettie Neudorf, Preston Meier, Barb Knott, Melanie Ferg, Craig Smart, Evan Van Dongen, and Amy Geisbrecht.)

For my readers, I hope that hearing White Christmas this year will remind you of a not-so-white Christmas long ago when a little Jewish boy came to earth as nothing less than God with us.

Merry Christmas!

 

BETTER TOGETHER

 Have you noticed a trend in your local news headlines recently? Here are a few of ours...

MCC SUPPORTS BIG BROTHERS/BIG SISTERS. Our MCC Thrift Shop partners with local charities three times a year. This year, MCC donated generously to Big Brothers/Big Sisters, Youth forChrist/Youth Unlimited, and Prairie Pregnancy Support Centre.

Rest-A-Bit Partners With Prairie Welcome House. Here we find two local initiatives joining forces to better serve people in need in our community, giving folks a warm place to stay as the colder weather approaches.

Paraclete Transport Pledges to Help STARS tells about a trucking company pledging to fund-raise and donate to STARS Air Ambulance.

Mr. Mike’s Steakhouse provided food for “GratiTuesdays” all through October, benefiting four different local not-for-profits.

I could go on. You get the idea. Would it surprise you to know these headlines provide glimpses into the Kingdom of God?

Because of Covid-19, my church could not hold its annual Thanksgiving banquet where for decades, we’ve gathered to eat and celebrate the good things God has done in our church and in our community. Our leaders brainstormed about how we might observe the tradition under pandemic restrictions, with outside-the-box thinking.

Perhaps they took a cue from Biz Stone, co-founder of Twitter, who said, “When you hand good people possibility, they do great things.”

Our congregation’s continued generosity during this crisis enabled the church to give each of its “house churches” some seed money. (House churches are smaller groups within the larger church that meet regularly in homes to share life, pray together, assist one another, and find ways to serve our community.) Each house church was to dream up a way to bless their community, document it, and then meet in our individual bubbles to enjoy a meal and view the collected stories all at the same time, broadcast live over You Tube.

One group put together Thanksgiving meal hampers for people in need. One supplied the soup kitchen. Another made care packages and walked alongside the Bear Clan on their Friday night patrol. Another group stocked the little free pantries around town. Another provided toques and mitts to schools, the women’s shelter and homeless shelter.

My group used our share to purchase grocery gift cards and coffee shop gift cards for the Rest-a-Bit shelter. We added homemade frozen meals and baked goods and delivered them together.

Other groups used theirs in a variety of creative ways, like taking fresh hot pizza to the residents of Regency House, school supplies to the Portage Learning and Literacy Center, and gift bags to the residents of Douglas Campbell Lodge.

The Prairie Pregnancy Support Centre received gift cards and diapers, some high school kids got gift cards, a fostering family accepted a couple of refurbished laptops. Another family obtained Lego and casseroles, while the Tupper Street Family Resource Centre received hampers to distribute to its clients.

One group built a “buddy bench” for the Westpark Schoolplayground, where kids can find a safe place to talk and make a friend. Another group contributed countless hours and energy into the great potato give-away you’ve been reading about.

In his book, All Things New, John Eldredge advises us to “ask Jesus to show you his kingdom.” He adds, “Stay open to surprises; keep asking for glimpses of the kingdom any way God wants to bring them. This is how we reach into the future to take hold of the hope that is our anchor.”

 

Abnormal Hope

Last Easter, I wrote about how wonderful it would be when we were free to meet in large groups again. I imagined the hugs in the church lobby, the happy rejoicing. In my never-having-lived through-a-pandemic naivety, I somehow assumed we’d go from complete lock-down to business as usual.

Boy, was I wrong.

I’ve been in church four times now since the doors opened and it’s nothing like I imagined. Registering ahead of time and checking in when I arrive. Chair rows spread apart six feet. Leaving three empty seats between every household. Wearing masks. Using hand sanitizer. No printed programs. No passing of offering plates. Waiting for an usher to dismiss your row, one at a time starting at the back. And definitely no hugging.

The first couple of weeks, I left feeling sad. The third week, I almost didn’t attend. I’m so glad I did. I chatted with my pastor for a few minutes ahead of the service and prayed with someone afterwards. The “new normal” began to feel manageable, the benefits overriding the weirdness.

Those who choose to view the service from home do so for valid reasons, and my aim in this article is not to judge, discourage, or sway you. We are in this together, and kindness must remain our number one rule, whatever choices we make for ourselves and our families. I choose to attend despite the restrictions and the inconveniences. I can think of three reasons why.

First of all, I go to church in case I don’t have the option next week. The rules could change. I or someone near me could test positive. I could become ill and never sit in church again. Every Sunday, there’s a heightened awareness that it could be my last time.

Secondly, I’ve found worshiping together with my church family simply cannot be recreated at home. Seated on my couch, I’m less likely to sing along, perhaps because I hear my own voice too well. I become a spectator. The power in the words we proclaim about who God is and who we are to him multiplies when we worship together. Those truths penetrate my heart and mind, fortifying me for the week ahead, in a way that does not happen from home. (Being spread out actually provides an unexpected benefit: I’m free to move, clap, or raise my hands with no worries about infringing on someone else’s space!)

Thirdly, I do a better job of listening to the message. At home, I’m too easily distracted by my phone, by pedestrians on my street, or by the close proximity to my pantry and fridge. When I’m present at church, I take notes. Whether or not I ever look at those notes again, I retain what I’ve heard more thoroughly. Occasionally those notes end up on this blog, like the great line Pastor Kevin Fawcett gave us last Sunday. He reminded us that Jesus’ disciples faced a whole new normal after he left their physical presence. New challenges, new opposition, new methods. But the same Jesus. And Jesus’ new normal is abnormally good. Abnormally hopeful. (You can find the whole message HERE.)

May you be blessed with abnormal hope today.

 

Truth is Stranger

I’m quite capable of making stuff up, but I have a tale to tell that I wouldn’t and couldn’t have invented. But it’s true, and it gives me goosebumps. And it shows me that God cares for my heart. And that he also has a sharp sense of humor.

Before I delve into it, you need to know that for at least a decade now, my church (Prairie Alliance) has used as its motto, “UPSIDEDOWN.” If you check its website, you’ll see that the phrase is based on a story from Acts 17, where the followers of Jesus were accused of “turning the world upside down.” In the first century, the church was a disruptive force in society. Paul and his companions, (including Luke, who recorded the events) ushered in a new normal: the presence of the Kingdom of God on earth. In it, positions of power were flipped, extravagant generosity met the needs of the neglected, gender roles were being rewritten. That’s exactly what Christians today are called to, and it is the desire of my church to be that same force in our community: turning it UPSIDEDOWN with the good news of Jesus Christ.

This “upside down” accusation happened while Paul and his colleagues were in Macedonia, which was then a province in Greece. (You need to remember that bit: Macedonia.) For reasons the Bible doesn’t clearly explain, Paul’s attempts to enter various other places were thwarted. Then, Luke writes, “That night Paul had a dream: A Macedonian stood on the far shore and called across the sea, ‘Come over to Macedonia and help us!’ The dream gave Paul his map. We went to work at once getting things ready to cross over to Macedonia. All the pieces had come together. We knew now for sure that God had called us to preach the good news to the Europeans.” (from Acts 16)

The story has become known as Paul’s “Macedonian Call,” and is referred to in an old hymn I grew up with called Send the Light.

That’s the back story. Now for mine.

For a long time, I’ve asked God how the things I’m doing with my life could possibly fit into my church’s UPSIDEDOWN dream. I see others doing “real” ministry, like going on mission trips, teaching, working with kids, serving the poor. Really making a difference. Sending the light. Meanwhile, I mostly stay home, hammering away on my laptop. Although I strive to write books and columns that will draw readers closer to their Creator, my stories seem disconnected from my church’s mission. I feel isolated, the words at times superficial. “Lord, I’d love it if you could grant me some small picture of what my part of this puzzle looks like,” I prayed. “How and where do I fit?”

Then I received an email from my publisher informing me that my first novel is going to be translated into a foreign language. I’d always wondered if this might happen one day. Which language would it be? What would they title it? What might the cover look like? Would it be French or Spanish? Possibly Dutch or German?

No. It’s none of those. It’s being translated into a language I didn’t even know existed, in a country I didn’t know still existed.

It’s called the Republic of Macedonia. Macedonians will be reading a story in their own language (Macedonian), set in Manitoba, dreamed up by a somewhat bewildered woman in little ol’ Portage la Prairie, who identifies with a motley group of Jesus-followers longing to turn the world upside down like Paul did. In Macedonia.

And I kind of lost it. Because you can’t make this stuff up.