Candy Canes

I recently read about the legend of the candy cane. Legend is an old English word meaning "probably not true." Even so, I enjoyed reading about the legend.

The legend says that in medieval times, there was a town in Europe where any public display of Christianity was forbidden. No crosses or Bibles were allowed. One old man, a candy maker by profession, was very upset by this. He loved God and couldn't stand to not share that love with others. He prayed for God to show him some way to make Christmas gifts for the children which would teach them the story of Jesus.

His answer was the candy cane. The candy cane was in the shape of a shepherd’s staff to show them that Jesus is our Shepherd and we are His flock. Upside down the candy cane was a "J", the first letter of Jesus' name. It was made of hard candy to remind us that Christ is the rock of our salvation. The wide red stripes on the candy cane were to represent the blood He shed on the cross for each one of us so that we can have eternal life through Him. The three narrow red stripes on the candy canes symbolized that by His stripes, or wounds, we are healed.

The flavoring in the candy cane was peppermint, which is similar to hyssop. Hyssop is of the mint family and was used in Old Testament times for purification and sacrifice just as Jesus sacrificed His life for ours. The old candy maker told the children that when we break our candy cane it reminds us that Jesus' body was broken for us. If we share our candy cane and give some to someone else, it represents the love of Jesus. God gave Himself to us when He sent Jesus. He loved us so much He wants us to spend eternity with Him.

This story of the candy cane is just a legend. No one knows for sure exactly how the candy cane was invented, but this legend is an excellent picture of Jesus and His love for you. Think about it the next time you enjoy a candy cane. And who doesn't enjoy a good candy cane?

Genealogy Research

My An Arkie's Faith column from the December 14, 2016, issue of The Mena Star

A few years ago my wife started doing some genealogy research. Early on in her research, she ran across the fascinating story of her great-great-grandmother, Sophie. Sophie Cathrine Wilhelmine Klauen Petersen and her children emigrated from Denmark in 1856. She traveled from Denmark to England where she sailed from Liverpool to New York City. From New York, she traveled by train to Iowa City, Iowa where she became a part of the Willie Handcart Company.

1n 1856, over nineteen hundred European immigrants signed up to make the thousand-mile journey from Iowa City to Salt Lake City pulling handcarts. They were organized into companies, with Sophie and her children becoming a part of the Willie Handcart Company. Although Sophie and her children arrived safely in Salt Lake City, over sixty members of the Willie Handcart Company died on the trail.

My wife has been very interested in the details of this story and has done a lot of research. As these pioneers pulled handcarts across the plains and the Rocky Mountains they faced starvation, hypothermia, frozen limbs and death. Jens Nielsen of the Willie Handcart Company wrote, “No person can describe it, nor could it be comprehended or understood by any human living in this life, but those who were called to pass through it.”

While she was researching her family tree, my wife found that some of her ancestors were very interesting historical figures including Alfred the Great and Charlemagne. Along with royalty she also found some less savory ancestors. One relative that she found in her research was John D. Lee. He was infamous because of his involvement in the Mountain Meadows Massacre that took place in Utah on September 11, 1857.  On that day, Native Americans and members of the Mormon church attacked a wagon train and slaughtered 120 people including women and children. The Mormon Church turned John D. Lee over to the Federal authorities as a scapegoat. He was the only person convicted out of the estimated 50 to 70 Mormon participants and was executed for his crimes.

I’m sure that all of us have some bad ancestors. Some people are ashamed of the actions of their ancestors and think that it reflects badly on them. If the thought of unsavory ancestors bothers you, you probably should not attempt genealogy. I do not know of anyone doing genealogy that has not uncovered something from the past they are not proud of. I'm sure glad I'm not responsible for anything my ancestors did.

In Matthew 1:1-17, we find the genealogy of Jesus. Whenever I find genealogies in the Bible, I usually skip over them to read something more interesting. But recently as I was reading the Christmas story I started with Matthew 1 and read from the beginning. I wondered why Matthew started his gospel with a boring genealogy. As I read, I noticed something unusual. Matthew included four women.

If you read all of the other genealogies in the Bible or from any literature from the time, none of them include women. Matthew not only included women in the genealogy but women with poor reputations.

In Matthew 1:3 we find Tamar listed as an ancestor of Jesus. Tamar was a widow who disguised herself as a prostitute to trick her father-in-law into getting her pregnant and bore a child named Perez. A disturbing story introduces an illegitimate Perez into the lineage of Jesus.

In Matthew 1:5, Rahab, a prostitute, is listed in the genealogy. She is not an Israelite, but a heathen Canaanite. She bore a son named Boaz. The wife of Boaz, the Moabite woman Ruth,  is specifically mentioned as an ancestor of Jesus. The fourth woman listed is Bathsheba, with whom King David had an adulterous affair that resulted in the birth of King Solomon.

Matthew decided to open his gospel by saying that Jesus descended from the incest of Tamar, the prostitution of Rahab, the Moabite Ruth, and the adultery of Bathsheba. Why would he begin his book this way? It shows that Jesus was one of us. He was human. John 1:14 (NKJV) tells us that He, “became flesh and dwelt among us.” But all of the moral failures of the ancestors of Jesus did not stop Him from achieving His purpose. Jesus, just like each one of us, had unsavory ancestors. But Hebrews 4:15 (NCV) tells us, “For our High Priest is able to understand our weaknesses. He was tempted in every way that we are, but he did not sin.”

Gentle Reader, the message of Christmas is that God is love. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16 (NKJV) No matter what is in your past, no one is beyond redemption. Matthew 1:21 (NKJV) gives us the focal point of the Christmas story; “she will bring forth a Son, and you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.” Jesus did not give up on the world but chose to enter into this turbulent human experience as a baby in order to reconcile the world to himself. That is what Christmas is all about, and that is good news.

An Eventful Weekend

The holiday season is a busy time for us, but this weekend was even busier than usual. On Thanksgiving, my Dad brought his Shay Model A over, and the family enjoyed riding around in it. The co-ordinator of the Mena Christmas Parade saw photos of the car and contacted us wanting to know if we would drive Santa and Mrs. Claus in the parade. The parade, originally scheduled for December 3, was rained out. It was rescheduled for Friday night the 9th.

My wife drove the Model A with Santa and Mrs. Claus in the rumble seat. My Dad drove his 1933 Plymouth in the parade, and my friend drove his 1965 Mustang.

I walked in the parade aand gave away over two hundred books about Desmond Doss the hero of the movie, Hacksaw Ridge.

Saturday morning we got up at 5:00 A.M. and headed for Louisiana. Our destination was Driskill Mountain in Bienville Parish. At an elevation of 535 feet above sea level, Driskill Mountain is the highest point in Louisiana. The mountain is private land, but the owners welcome visitors free of charge, asking only that they respect the land and leave no traces of their visit.

We met my daughter and her family at the trail-head. It was a beautiful day, just a bit cool but wonderful for a hike. It is a mile from the trail-head to the summit, where there is a summit marker and a guestbook signed by visitors from around the U.S. We arrived at the summit at the same time as another family. We took a picture of their family and they took a picture of ours.

To get the word out that we had safely accomplished our goal with no loss of life, I posted the photo and the following words on social media. "After a difficult and arduous climb we reached the summit. Every climber made it without the use of bottled oxygen. Driskill Mountain is the highest point in the state of Louisiana."

A pile of rocks marks the actual high point. My wife proudly posed at the very highest point in Louisiana.

As we hiked up to the summit, my daughter had given each one of us the task of finding three items along the way that filled us with wonder. After reaching the summit, we sat on benches with a beautiful view of Driskill Mountain's mighty neighbor, the 492-foot peak of Mount Jordan. We ate the snacks we had brought along, and each one of us showed the items we had found along the way and explained why they filled us with wonder. We all had a great time, but the kids especially enjoyed explaining the items they had collected.

After the hike back, we had a lovely picnic at the Mount Zion Church. The church provides picnic tables for those who come to hike the trail.

Saturday night we headed to Natchitoches to the 90th annual Christmas Festival. Since 1927, Nactchitoches has been the home of one of the oldest community-based holiday celebrations in the United states. The festival has evolved from a one day event in 1927 into a six-week long Christmas Season beginning on the Saturday before Thanksgiving and concluding on January 6th. Over 300,000 lights and 100 plus set pieces are on display every night along the Cane River.

The highlight of each Saturday night of the festival is an amazing fireworks show from the banks of the Cane River. People by the thousands pack the downtown riverbank. For fifteen minutes the fireworks burst nonstop over the Cane River. The Festival of Lights has been ranked 3rd “Best Holiday Light Show” in the nation behind the Rockefeller Center and Disney World by Yahoo.com.

On our way back to my daughters home in Castor, A deer ran in front of the van just a few miles from home. We were able to slow down, but not avoid the deer. The grille of the van was destroyed and the front bumper was pushed back into the tire on the right side. By brute strength, mostly provided by my son-in law, we were able to pull the bumper away from the tire so that we could make it home. In the process I managed to slice my thumb open. The next morning we used a combination of Arkansas and Louisiana engineering to pull the bumper back into place. With a chain wrapped around a tree and a strong nylon cable attaching the chain to the front bumper we were able to pull out the bumper by driving the van backward, jerking against the cable. After a healthy application of duct tape, the van was ready to put back in service.

Sunday afternoon my two oldest granddaughters played in a Christmas recital. We sat and listened proudly as they played their recital pieces. They played much harder pieces than they played in their spring recital.

After the recital we went out to dinner with my son-in-law's parents. His Dad had just recently returned from a trip to Cuba. It was very interesting listening to the experiences that he had there. After an uneventful trip - we didn't hit any deer - we made it back home around 10:30 P.M.

What a full an eventful weekend.  It was one of my best ever!

Merry Xmas

I must admit that I have never liked Xmas as an abbreviation for Christmas.  It just seems a bit flippant and unnecessary. In today's culture where many Christians perceive a war against Christmas, they see the use of Xmas as an attempt to secularize the season by taking Christ out of Christmas.

I must admit that I agreed with those sentiments until I actually looked into the history of the use of Xmas.  Originally, Xmas was an abbreviation where the X represents the Greek letter chi, which is the first letter of Christ's name in Greek, ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ. However, because of the modern interpretations of the letter X, many people are unaware of this and assume that this abbreviation is meant to drop Christ from Christmas.

According to R. C. Sproul in his book, Now That's a Good Question, the idea of X as an abbreviation for the name of Christ came into use in our culture with no intent to show any disrespect for Jesus. The church has used the symbol of the fish historically because it is an acronym. Fish in Greek (ichthus) involved the use of the first letters for the Greek phrase “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.” So the early Christians would take the first letter of those words and put those letters together to spell the Greek word for fish. That’s how the symbol of the fish became the universal symbol of Christendom. There’s a long and sacred history of the use of X to symbolize the name of Christ, and from its origin, it has meant no disrespect.

The Greek letter Χ, or Chi, was a common abbreviation for "Christ" in past religious writings. Its usage can be traced as far back as the 4th century in Rome, and to 1021 AD in historic Anglo-Saxon manuscripts. Xmas began to be used in English starting in the 1500′s. Webster’s dictionary acknowledges that the abbreviation Xmas was in common use by the middle of the sixteenth century.

In an article on the subject of Xmas written by Dennis Bratcher, he states, "Xmas is not a modern invention to try to convert Christmas into a secular day, nor is it a device to promote the commercialism of the holiday season.  Its origin is thoroughly rooted in the heritage of the Church.  It is simply another way to say Christmas, drawing on a long history of symbolic abbreviations used in the church. In fact, as with other abbreviations used in common speech or writing (such as Mr. or etc.), the abbreviation "Xmas" should be pronounced "Christmas" just as if the word were written out in full, rather than saying "exmas."

Even though we know from history that it isn't offensive to use “Merry Xmas,” do be aware that some still find it so, so use good judgment when using the abbreviation “Xmas.”

Merry Xmas every one from An Arkie's Musings - pronounced properly of course.  :)

Learning to Drive

My An Arkie's Faith column from the December 7, 2016, issue of The Mena Star

This Thanksgiving holiday weekend we had a wonderful time with family and friends. There were seventeen at our traditional Thanksgiving meal that included a smoked turkey, dressing and homemade cranberry relish, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet potatoes, creamed corn, vegetarian turkey loaf, Christmas salad and five varieties of pie. For parts of the weekend, we had twenty-five people in our home.

Just before Thanksgiving, I purchased a fire pit for the backyard. My granddaughters and my sister’s granddaughter enjoyed “camping” around the fire and playing with it as much as the adults would let them. They roasted lots of marshmallows and even ate a few.

My Dad brought his Model A roadster, and everyone enjoyed taking turns going for a ride. The rumble seat was especially popular. My granddaughters and their cousin also liked riding in my little 1960 Rambler American. The wanted to know if they could steer the car as we drove on our street.

Because the Rambler is small, and not because my stomach is too large, they were not able to sit in front of me and steer while I operated the pedals. We developed a method that had me sitting tight against the driver's door and one of the girls sitting next to me behind the steering wheel. From this position, I was able to operate the clutch while the driver could operate the gas, brake, and steering wheel. Since I was in control of the clutch, I was in control of the power. I was in a position to operate the brake if I needed to, but it was never necessary. They quickly learned to give the car enough gas so I could smoothly let out the clutch. They enjoyed driving up and down the street and even mastered driving into a driveway, putting it in reverse and backing out.

Teaching them to drive the Rambler brought back memories of learning to drive when I was a kid. We lived in the country, and when I was ten years old, I learned to drive a tractor and move vehicles around on our ten-acre “farm.” When I was twelve, I would ask my Mama to let me drive on the dirt roads near our house. One day a policeman in an unmarked car saw us change drivers when we reached the dirt road, and he followed us home. He gave Mama a ticket for letting me drive. It was a long time before I was able to talk her into letting me drive again.

I remember when my kids learned to drive. Teaching them to drive was a bit of a bumpy ride. My son had driven a bit when I purchased a car for him to drive. His first time in the car he drove a few minutes and then we returned home. As he drove into the driveway, he didn’t slow down and ran right through the garage door. After learning to drive an automatic, my daughter was having trouble with the finer points of a manual transmission. Her boyfriend thought that it would be a good idea to teach her to drive a standard using her Mom’s car. While he was “teaching” her on the Talimena Drive, she drove off of the road seriously damaging the car. I’m sure many parents have stories to tell about teaching their children to drive.

In the eighties, there was a popular bumper sticker that read, “God is my co-pilot.” I understood what it was trying to say, but I wondered if that was right. Then one day I saw a new bumper sticker that read: “If God is your co-pilot, switch seats.”

Inspirational author and speaker BJ Gallagher writes, “my dad was an Air Force pilot. He taught me the difference between a pilot and a co-pilot. The pilot calls the shots; the co-pilot is the number two guy (or gal). The pilot is in charge; the co-pilot assists him – supporting, helping, and providing an extra pair of eyes, ears, and hands. The co-pilot’s job is important, but he never forgets who’s in charge.”

When we say that “God is my co-pilot,” we are saying, “I drive and God is my helper. I call the shots and God does my bidding.” Proverbs 14:12 (NKJV) tells us, “there is a way that seems right to a man, But its end is the way of death.”

Gentle Reader, when life isn’t going the way we would like it to, it’s easy to try and take the wheel from God, and try and force Him to do things our way. But doing so shows our lack of faith and trust in God. Psalm 46:10 (NASB) says, “Cease striving and know that I am God.” Trying to be in control and trusting God at the same time just doesn’t work. When we let God drive our lives and trust that He knows best, we can rest and stop striving, which means that we will ultimately experience peace. Jesus came to earth “to guide our feet into the way of peace.” Luke 1:79 (NKJV) Let Him be your pilot.

I Want To Be A Shepherd

I want to be a shepherd. No, I don’t want to live alone with a herd of sheep, but I want to experience what the shepherds in the Christmas story felt. God could have chosen to announce the arrival of Jesus on planet earth to anyone. But instead of asking angels to visit some of the most important people on earth, God sent the angels to speak to humble shepherds.

The shepherds were watching their flocks while the sheep rested or grazed on grass from the hillsides. They were prepared to deal with any danger that threatened their animals, but they were frightened by the angels' appearance. That’s why the angels told them, “don’t be afraid.”

The fields around Bethlehem would have been very dark. Suddenly a bright light filled the darkness, as the sky above Bethlehem filled with a multitude of angels. The angels calmly reassured the frightened shepherds that they had good news for them.

The announcement of the birth of Jesus was marked by the light of many angels appearing in their heavenly glory.  As amazing as that experience must have been, that’s not the part of the experience that intrigues me the most. It is what happened next.

The Bible tells the story in Luke 2:15-18: "When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” They rushed into town and found the baby. When they had seen baby Jesus, they told everyone they could about the baby and what the angels had told them. Everyone they talked to was amazed by the story that the shepherds told them.

I can only imagine what it must have been like to be one of the first people to see the baby Jesus!  I can just feel the excitement the shepherds felt. They just had to tell people of their experience. Can you imagine being a part of those conversations! Even in the days before media such as television and the internet, word traveled fast that something amazing was happening.

Even though I will never be a shepherd or experience the things that the humble shepherds of Bethlehem experienced on that first Christmas, I can follow their example. I can spread the word about the baby Jesus. I can be excited about Jesus and what he means to this world. And so can you. That is what Christmas is all about. Let’s all be shepherds!

The Wreck of the Peter Iredale

After attending a wedding in the Portland, Oregon area, my wife and I took a couple of extra days to visit the Oregon Coast. We visited Cannon Beach with its iconic Haystack Rock and then traveled up to Seaside, Oregon where we spent the night.

The next day we made some stops along the way to Astoria. As we visited various sites, I remembered a trip that we took to the same area in 1975. I enjoyed visiting the same places over 40 years later and remembering times long ago.

One place that we revisited was the shipwreck of the Peter Iredale. On the beach at Fort Stevens State Park are the remains of the Peter Iredale. At low tide, you can walk out to the shipwreck and climb on it. The beach and the shipwreck are a popular tourist destination.

On September 26, 1906, the Peter Iredale left Salina Cruz, Mexico, for Portland, Oregon, where it was to pick up a cargo of wheat. Despite heavy fog, the crew managed to safely reach the mouth of the Columbia River early in the morning of October 25. The captain of the ship, H. Lawrence, later recalled that, as they waited for a pilot, “a heavy southeast wind blew, and a strong current prevailed. Before the vessel could change course, she was in the breakers, and all efforts to keep her off were unavailing.” The Peter Iredale ran aground at Clatsop Beach, hitting so hard that three of her masts snapped from the impact. Fortunately, none of the crew were seriously injured. Captain Lawrence ordered everyone to abandon ship.

All twenty-seven crewmen made it safely to the shore. Captain Lawrence stood at attention, saluted his ship, and said, “May God bless you and may your bones bleach in these sands.”

The shipwreck became an immediate tourist attraction. The day after the ship ran ashore the Oregon Journal reported that the wreck “proved a strong attraction and in spite of the gale that was raging scores flocked to the scene of the disaster.” They noted that the Astoria & Columbia River Railroad was already planning to run excursion trains to the site. Back home in England, Captain Lawrence had to appear before the British Naval Court because of the loss of the ship.

The ship has been broken up by wind, waves, and sand over the years. It looks significantly different than it did when I first saw it over 40 years ago. Even though the shipwreck happened 110 years ago, the wreck of the Peter Iredale continues to be a popular tourist attraction.

As I walked out to the shipwreck site and took photos, I was thinking that people have been coming here to see the results of the mistakes of Captain Lawrence and the crew of the Peter Iredale for over 100 years. I'm thankful that my mistakes are not on public display as a tourist attraction.

In Isaiah 43:25 (NKJV) God says, “I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions for My own sake; And I will not remember your sins.” What a powerful idea. God has promised that when He forgives you of your sin, He will not remember it ever again. The Bible regularly uses language about the depth of God’s forgiveness for our sins. He forgets them; He removes them as far from us as the east is from the west.

Psalms 103:10-13 (NCV) tells us that, “He has not punished us as our sins should be punished; He has not repaid us for the evil we have done. As high as the sky is above the earth, so great is his love for those who respect him. He has taken our sins away from us as far as the east is from the west. The Lord has mercy on those who respect him, as a father has mercy on his children."

Do you worry that there are certain sins you’ll be punished for someday? Are you afraid that God just can't forgive that terrible thing that you did? Listen to the promise that the Bible gives us in 1 John 1:9 (NKJV) “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”  God is faithful and just to forgive our sins. We just need to confess our sins, and He has promised to forgive. God wants to forgive sinners! But in the minds of many people, this thought seems too good to be true.

Gentle Reader, because Jesus died for all our sins, God promises to forgive us and never bring up our sin again. He says, “I will be merciful when they fail, and I will erase their sins and wicked acts out of My memory as though they had never existed.” Hebrews 8:12 (VOICE) I’m thankful that my mistakes are forgiven and forgotten instead of being on public display like the wreck of the Peter Iredale.