It was December, 1914, the early days of World War I. This world war fought in Europe was the horrific conflict involving trench warfare, poison gas (now banned by the international community), and the carryover of antiquated gentleman’s fighting with the prolific killing of modern weaponry. Mud-filled trenches, seemingly endless rain, and fields of corpses characterized the conflict. But within this nightmare there was a groundswell of peace in the insanity. Like a flower growing out of the mud-encased madness. Peace broke out from the lowest levels of combat.

As December, 1914 went on, and as Christmas approached, the troops on both sides had begun expressing overtures of peace and friendship to one another. To the officers’ dismay, the troops were intermittently sharing cigarettes and rations, communicating pleasantries, and expressing desires for peace. News stories were beginning to document these spotty expressions of kindness along the western front. Something was brewing. Finally, it was Christmas Eve, December 24th 1914 and the unthinkable happened…

As if sparked by some unseen force for good, here and there along the western front German and Allied forces put down their weapons and mandated peace. In his book, Silent Night: The Story of The World War I Christmas Truce, Stanley Weintraub records the astounding development in the trenches of death that fateful night. German soldiers here and there held up signs to the opposing forces— “YOU NO FIGHT, WE NO FIGHT.” A commander of the British Fifth Army said, “Every dugout had its Christmas tree, and from all directions came the sound of rough men’s voices singing our exquisite old Christmas songs” (Silent Night, p. 30).

One German private, Carl Muhlegg, said, “’I handed the captain the little Christmas tree….He lit the candles and wished his soldiers, the German nation and the whole world ‘Peace according to the message of the angel.’ Toward midnight, firing ceased and soldiers from both sides met halfway between their positions. ‘Never,’ wrote Muhlegg, ‘was I as keenly aware of the insanity of war’” (Silent Night, p. 33)

One British soldier, Albert Moren, remembered, “It was a beautiful moonlit night, frost on the ground, white almost everywhere; and … there was a lot of commotion in the German trenches and then there were those lights—I don’t know what they were. And then they sang ‘Silent Night’—‘Still Nacht.’ I shall never forget it. It was one of the highlights of my life.” (Silent Night, p. 44)

The next day—Christmas Day, 1914—was filled with the same. Mud, standing water, and rotting corpses all around them, soldiers from both sides visited each others’ trenches, traded food and cigarettes, told jokes, and even played soccer. As you would imagine, not all forces were on board with these peaceful overtures. Some commanders objected. Curiously, one young German soldier named Adolf Hitler vehemently opposed this peace, calling it a gross denial of German honor (Silent Night, p. 71). After a few days, the commanders persuaded the troops to descend back into their trenches for warfare.

The story is sobering, isn’t it? In the complexities and evils of our world, warfare is indeed a fact of life. Some war may even be necessary, and most would agree that sometimes peace is only ultimately achieved through a just war. But for all of us, the remarkable and inspiring peace that broke out on that Christmas Eve in 1914 reminds us that life is exceedingly precious, to be cherished, to be honored, to be loved in the spirit of Christmas.

I love Tim Tebow’s leadership, his competitive fire, and yes even his raw determination.  After a string of highly charged, come from behind victories under his leadership, some of his harshest critics have now admitted that this young man has raised the level of play for the entire team.  All-pro cornerback Champ Bailey, a future shoe in for the Hall of Fame, has stated that Tim Tebow has inspired an inexplicable level of belief and mutual support on the team that has raised the performance of all aspects of the game. 

But I also love Tim Tebow’s faith.  Like many NFL athletes before him, Reggie White and Curt Warner for example, Tim Tebow is unapologetically committed to Christ.  Even while in college at the University of Florida, he started a foundation to build a hospital for orphans in the Philippines.  Before his first start this season against the Dolphins, Tebow said the highlight of his weekend was his visit with a young boy who had leukemia.  When harshly criticized and slandered, Tebow consistently responds with humility, kindness, and love.  So much has his personality captured the interest of a nation that even people who otherwise have no interest in football are watching Denver Broncos games and following Tim Tebow!

This young man has been criticized right and left.  In his senior year of college, he was pressed in a news conference as to whether he was a virgin.  He admitted he is, saying he is saving himself for the right person.  A firestorm of criticism rained down; one former NFL linebacker even said that if he were still playing, he would hit Tim Tebow as hard as he could simply because he was a virgin.  I suppose virginity is something to be ashamed of?

Other Critics say he has found a gimmick to market himself.  Public praying on the sidelines (“Tebowing”) is now showing up viral on the internet.  Other athletes mock him at times.  Some are saying that such public displays go against Jesus’ warning in Matthew chapter six against public prayer.  Not so.  Jesus was warning against public religious actions done for the purpose of impressing people.  The New Testament offers several examples of public prayers by the Apostles in Acts.    I have seen other Broncos players in years past such as Rod Smith bow on the sidelines in prayer before a game; strangely, it never showed up on television.  But when Tim Tebow does it, the cameras start to roll and it goes viral.  Still others will say that Tebow shouldn’t be praying that his team wins.  But he has stated more than once that he knows God is not ultimately concerned about who wins a game. 

People who are skeptical of his faith seem to say that, upon meeting him, Tebow wins them with his genuine sincerity.  So why is he so captivating to our nation?  I think that all of us are refreshed to see an athlete who strives to live for what is good.   He is not the only one, certainly.  But, all of his life, he has faced experts saying he couldn’t make it, and through determination and stout heart, he has proven them wrong.  I think the good hearted fighter in him inspires us.  No doubt, Tim Tebow is NOT perfect.  But even if you don’t subscribe to his faith, are you not inspired by his moral courage, his persistent ambition, his sense of priority to the things that go beyond sports?  As a Broncos fan, as a Christian, as a parent, I say, “Go Tim Tebow!”

Just recently, I began reading Pride and Prejudice (published in 1813) for the first time. This captivating story reflects well the deeper theme of many of Jane Austen’s works—the nature of true goodness and morality in a world of shallow and misguided social conventions. I have seen movie versions of Pride and Prejudice on several occasions, and have always loved the story. Set in early nineteenth century England, the novel follows one spunky young woman, Elizabeth Bennet on her fateful journey to find her home in the world; along the way, she discovers the nature of true goodness in the heart of another. Bennet is the second of five children, born to a country couple of modest means. In an age where land, wealth, and leisure are the sole measures of social standing, Bennet’s family is considered redneck, outside the privileges of the upper class. Her mother and sisters are desperate to break free from their social confines and they would do anything to blast through the glass ceiling into the privilege of the upper class. But Elizabeth is different.

Elizabeth Bennet is her own woman. She enjoys the simple pleasures of life frowned upon by the upper classes. A walk in the rain, even if it dampens her appearance; playing the piano, even when she is not very accomplished; reading a book, even if her interpretation is not like everyone else’s of standing. She refuses to conform for conformity’s sake. She will not be someone she is not simply for the purpose of marrying well.

But Elizabeth meets a man who would change her life course forever, as she would change his. Mr. Darcy is a wealthy man, admired by many for his riches and land. Mr. Darcy has everything that the Bennets would want—land, money, success and esteem—and that Elizabeth SHOULD want, according to convention. But, Mr. Darcy is lacking in one regrettable way—his manners. A brooding, sullen, and tactless man, he thoroughly alienates everyone around him, including Elizabeth. His rough exterior has Elizabeth assuming he is like all the rest of his class—condescending and snobbish. To a degree, he is. But Darcy too is having his own assumptions challenged about Elizabeth, despite her social standing.

As the plot unfolds, Austen deftly reveals Darcy’s true nature—that of a caring and compassionate soul willing to make great sacrifices for the good of others. Despite Darcy’s unmannerly nature, Elizabeth is beginning to allow that goodness and virtue are more than skin deep. Just as the goodness toward which she aspires cannot be contained within her limited social condition, so Darcy’s goodness cannot be defined by his shallow companions of wealth. Both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet discover their own pride and prejudice about each other and and grow to love each other.

Like so many of her novels, Pride and Prejudice is really not fundamentally a romance. It is a commentary on the nature of true goodness. In an age where moral goodness was taken to be expressed in manners only, Austen awakens her readers to the deeper, soulful qualities of rightness and goodness that go far beyond social conventions. Indeed, being good is not simply being “nice.” Goodness of soul shows itself in purity of motive, others-centered priorities, and follow-through on commitments even in the face of inconvenience. One can be of any social class, and even rough around the edges and yet possess true goodness. Thank you, Jane Austen, for revealing this truth so cleverly…

–Archilochus, Ancient Greek Poet

Recently, I read with humble appreciation the recently published biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer by Eric Metaxas.  Bonhoeffer was a Lutheran Pastor and theologian in Germany during the Holocaust.  He was martyred at the young age of 39 for his faithful opposition to Hitler.  A member of the German Resistance movement, he stood with passion against the persecution of Jewish people, and advocated for church to be an unblemished beacon of God’s love through Christ, not a social corporation for the Aryan ideal. 

In reading the account of his life and death, I am struck by how methodically and uncompromisingly Bonhoeffer took these courageous stands for what is good and right.  For several years, the Confessing Church, under Bonhoeffer’s leadership, had resisted Nazi dictates demanding proof of Aryan birth for pastoral ordination and the cleansing of churches of all Jewish people.  Through letters, speeches, and courageous teaching within the Confessing Church seminary, Dietrich Bonhoeffer lived by his true convictions through the 1930’s as the Nazi’s gained their horrific stranglehold upon his native Germany. 

In 1939, by personal invitation, Bonhoeffer returned to New York City’s Union Seminary (he had earlier studied there) to receive a teaching position.  By then, the pressure was so great back in Germany that this move afforded a reasonable escape that could have spared his life.  His friends had lobbied him to flee Germany due to the growing target on his back and possibility of imprisonment or death.  Yet, Dietrich was stirred by the growing conviction that he had abandoned his people in this hour of national crisis.  So, after much anguish, after just a few months in New York, he willingly returned to Germany, knowing that the Gestapo might eventually take his life.  Eventually, the Gestapo made their move.  Bonhoeffer was imprisoned in 1943, and after two years of imprisonment, was hung on April 9^th, 1945—two weeks before the Allies liberated Germany.

In reading of such lives, I am always simultaneously encouraged and inspired , and yet humbled and doubtful—wondering if I would have the same resolve and conviction under similar pressures.  One ingredient, and mainly one stands out in the life of this courageous man of powerful conviction—The Hedgehog Principle. 

Early in his life, as a young seminary student, Bonhoeffer had read about the ancient Greek tale of the Fox and the Hedgehog by Archilochus.  The Fox is quick, filling its life with a myriad of things, rushing here and there to perform, achieve, complete, dabble.  The Hedgehog, on the other hand, is slow and methodical, knowing only ONE BIG THING, unconcerned about distractions, no matter how urgent.  The hedgehog may achieve less, may attract far less attention, in fact, may even go unnoticed in his plodding persistence.  Young Bonhoeffer determined to be a Hedgehog for the love of Christ.  The purity of his Savior was his Hedgehog principle.  I have to believe this was the single biggest factor in the courageous stand of Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

First, in my own spirit, and in my discussions with my own children about these events, I have determined that God would not want me to rejoice in the death of any individual. We see in Romans the following:

Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’ (Romans 12:17-19)

There is a profound lesson here. In my heart, as a Christ follower, whenever I face tragedies, calamities, abuses, and evil acts, I am called to foster reliance upon God as my defender, avenger, and protector. Though it is a difficult emotional pill to swallow, my God is the One toward whom evil is ultimately directed, not toward me! Though my country and people have been viciously attacked, and though my heart aches as a patriotic American, and though my feelings rage with a desire for revenge, I am called to rely upon God to be the one to exact vengeance in His perfect and holy will and in His perfect time.

So, with scenes of people rejoicing and gladly celebrating this evil man’s death, I believe we are to teach our children that such celebrations are misguided. Objectively, the death of this one man does not stamp out evil, nor can it ever atone for the evil acts he has done and the tragic loss he has inflicted upon so many. Further, the deeper satisfaction must come from the assurance that all evil will be given its just judgment by God in eternity.

Second, however, I believe there are feelings of relief that are appropriate in this circumstance. Clearly, Bin Ladin was continuing to oversee Al Qaeda and to plot further acts of evil. To feel relieved that this mastermind has been stopped is appropriate. I am justifiably proud of the courageous men and women in our military who take action in our country’s defense. Still, my ultimate, bedrock trust going forward must be in God, not in political or military actions to provide my security. God had told His people in Isaiah 30:15 when they were so prone to seek physical, worldly solutions and sources of comfort, “For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel, ‘In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.’ But you were unwilling.” May I not make the same mistake.

In his classic novel, A Tale of Two Cities, set in the days of the bloody French Revolution, Charles Dickens announced the flourish of extremes of the age with his words, “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times…” In this incomparable introduction, Dickens captured the mosaic of the Victorian Era with a series of paradoxical statements. In both England and France, the Victorian Era was marked by the heights of happy achievement and prosperity, and the depths of suffering and misfortune. Only paradox could capture this spectrum of experiences.

Paradox is important in any age, really, because it conveys the complexity of living. Sometimes, life just cannot be reduced to a three-point summary. Much of life defies quantification and simple, bumper sticker explanation. For me, some of the most profound and hard-won lessons in this life are those God brings through paradox.

Emily Dickenson (1830-1836) was one of our nation’s finest poets, writing nearly 1800 poems. She penned a poem entitled, “Tell The Truth But Tell it Slant” that captures the powerful fuel of paradox in capturing truth for life…

Tell all the Truth But Tell it Slant
by Emily Dickinson

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant—
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surprise
As Lightening to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind—

Indeed, there are truths so weighty, so profoundly beyond the immediacy of our first impression, our senses groomed in the sound-byte culture, that paradox (telling it slant) is the best means to freight them. Paradox is laden with a patient, contented wisdom. Age and maturity makes us more aware of paradox. Such truths are couched in wisdom that lies beyond mere knowledge. And to grasp them is to ponder them over time, steeping ourselves in their richness. It is then that we are changed. A few profound paradoxes for your day, your week, your life…

• Some of our greatest misfortunes are our richest blessings, in the economy of God.

• To lose your life for my sake is to find it… –Jesus, Luke 9:24

• Whoever cannot be alone should beware of community. Whoever cannot stand being in community should beware of being alone. –Dietrich Bonheoffer, Life Together.

Yet, as smart as Watson is, none of us would ever legitimately call him wise.  Knowledge is the storing of information, and wisdom is something else entirely.  Wisdom is an accumulated sixth sense, a cautious sorting of information and knowledge for some greater purpose.  It involves being schooled through experience over time.  It mixes failure, persistence, passion, and reflection to yield a careful courage to guide one’s next steps.  Wisdom in this sense is a soulful quality that no computer can ever achieve—a sense of proportion about what matters most in the sea of information and knowledge.  I would call this soulful quality, “worldly Wisdom.”

Deeper still, there is another type of Wisdom that I would call “divine WISDOM.”  Divine WISDOM is one rooted in a deep sense of humility and a valuing of God’s purpose for life.  It is seeking God’s perspective on human knowledge and circumstances.  It is the value of God’s glory and priority added to human experience, stretching us beyond ourselves, and yielding love and care for others to accomplish the good.  Whereas worldly Wisdom may afford a measure of value in protecting oneself or family, or in helping a trusted friend, divine WISDOM makes a further courageous step into securing good for someone we’ve never met, or in sacrificing to help someone who is not so kind to us, or in persisting to do what is right even if no one else ever knows. 

Last year, I led a series of teachings on peacemaking in relationships.  An author I respect challenges his readers that, when in personal conflict with someone, we should pray for how God can be glorified through our response to the situation.  When slandered, misunderstood, attacked, belittled, do we ever ask God to give the words and actions to further His glory in the situation?  A powerful and challenging response indeed. Certainly, seeking God’s glory, and not my own, will produce humble teachability, willingness to apologize, a desire for empathy, a sensitive sharing of hurts without attack.  Here’s to pursuing divine WISDOM today, beyond Wisdom and knowledge.

Author Oscar Wilde in 1890 wrote his classic, The Picture of Dorian Gray. It featured a young, handsome man, Dorian Gray, who is the subject of a stunning painters’ portrait. When the masterpiece is complete, an admiring friend becomes enamored with the young Dorian and begins grooming him in a form of hedonistic living that rejects traditional commitments such as fidelity and purity for the sake of pleasure in the moment. “Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die,” is the banner over this worldview. Under such influence, the young, impressionable Dorian Gray begins to lament that he will not stay young. He longs to be forever luxuriating in his youthful pleasure and have the portrait be the one to grow older. Dorian receives his wish. The young man descends into a life of reckless abandon, and the picture reflects the damage done to his tortured soul.

The story of Dorian Gray is one uniquely striking in our modern age. We live in a culture that promotes youth and surface beauty. Forever chasing the fountain of youth, we exalt the ideal form. I heard an investigative report recently about the growing number of British actors on American television. The reason? British actors are by in large trained actors. They are skilled, versatile, honing the craft of acting through discipline. American actors, on the other hand, are just handsome. Brits may not all have perfect teeth and the perfect bodies, but they know how to act! In America, it is all about image and looks, and if you can act, all the better.

Our culture today has become so pre-occupied with a youthful ideal, the perfect bodies, the spontaneous passions, the care-free lifestyles. Have we forgotten the glad satisfaction that is born in giving? Have we lost the value of self-sacrifice for the good of others? Have we neglected the priceless value of contentment? Such virtues are discovered only through experience, and age.

As I grow older, I come more and more to esteem my elders. People who have weathered the storms of life, learned the value of enduring commitment, heard the winds of faddish fascination and yet have cherished what is good and right. More and more, I want to value and emulate the older person who has learned the secret of contentment even with some wrinkles and a hitch in his get-along. I don’t want to go the way of Dorian Gray…

In the classic and profoundly inspiring story, The Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens weaves a story capturing like few others in history the essence of a transformed life. We know the story well—the cruel and miserly Ebeneezer Scrooge is afflicted by the prophetic vision of his seven-years-deceased partner, Jacob Marley. Marley’s ghost tells his terrified friend of his own cruel and deeply regrettable life. His obsession with money and the matters of business had forged a chain of shameful regrets that he now drags through the spiritual world. In his insulating focus on his trade, he had missed the REAL business of living—humanity, charity, mercy, benevolence, and love.

“Speak comfort to me,” begged Scrooge, echoing the wayward people of Israel in the book of Isaiah. But the apparition had none to give. Affliction and warning only were the ghost’s parcels—delivered at Scrooge’s doorstep for his betterment, his reclamation. Three more spirits would torment Scrooge in his dark, cold house. Over the course of these fear-filled encounters, Ebeneezer Scrooge would find repentance and a new song to sing—one of freedom, forgiveness, and love—in beautiful melody to all around him.

Dickens surely meant this classic tale to probe and afflict the reader to a degree as well—all toward our own reclamation. There is indeed a portion of Scrooge in all of us. I see pieces of myself in Scrooge’s selfish, lonely, and cruel existence. In this way, I too am warned by the specter of Jacob Marley. What is the essence of his warning? We see Marley admitting to cruelty, greed, obsession with money and things. But, at its root, Marley warns Scrooge, and me, about the dangers of an insulated life. Consider his pointed admission– “In my life my spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our money-changing hole.” Of course, his was not simply a mistake of omission—an ignorance fashioned by distraction. No, Marley’s heart had been so hardened by money, greed, and possessions that he refused to take the initiative to see suffering, neglect, pain, and sorrow first-hand. He had wrapped himself in the insulation of his own pursuits and desires. So Scrooge too had hidden behind his flimsy knowledge that his taxes went toward charitable help to those in need, and that seemed to be enough. Not enough…

Exposure to the hurts of others. Indeed, God forges compassion in me as I interact with friends, neighbors, relatives, yes, and even enemies. It is in the arena of personal interaction and contact that I see love played out. The necessity of empathy, walking in another’s shoes. It forestalls hasty judgment and keeps my impetuous soul in check. Let us heed the prophetic warning of Jacob Marley this day.

A disturbing trend in modern university education is the focus on corporate and social ethics without consideration of personal ethics. That is, in philosophy courses these days, students are bred to analyze and condemn the evils of capitalism or corporate policy or national policy or terrorism, as though these large-scale evils were all there is. In such a context, it becomes very easy to point the finger and scrutinize with no personal responsibility. I see this kind of pre-occupation with the macro-scale evils of our world seeping into popular culture and conversation. It is all the politician’s fault, the legislation, the policy. I and others are just victims of circumstance.

In my own experience, however, I have found a healthy and necessary realization of my own flawed nature and shortcomings. Now, often when I say this, someone will reply, “What a pessimistic view of self.” No, I don’t mean that I think of myself as inferior to others. What I mean is a healthy, realistic understanding of my own shortcomings, weaknesses, fickle heart swings, etc. Sometimes I get all messed up, distorting reality, jumping to conclusions, flying off the handle, etc. You know what I mean. Carrying such a realistic perspective of self helps me to trust God more, to judge others less, and to be more cautious in my own bold and critical statements.

In university classrooms, I am sure the reason that personal ethics are avoided is that they are too messy, too personally challenging, perhaps too religious in nature. I suppose the thinking is that the student will discover all of that personal stuff on his or her own. But will they really? I wonder how a person comes to learn the science of personal introspection, to give a healthy scrutiny to personal motive, to begin to own up to selfishness or thirst for personal gain that may be tainting one’s lenses. In my life, religious involvement, prayerful reading and application of Scripture, and dynamic accountability with trusted friends are all essential ingredients in this inner awareness.

I can’t help but think that the large-scale, global evils that exist in our world, of which there are surely many, can only be meaningfully addressed when we look honestly at ourselves in our own little corner of it. Author Donald Miller puts it this way…

The problem is not a certain type of legislation or even a certain politician; the problem is the same as it has always been. I am the problem. I think every conscious person, every person who is awake to the functioning principles within this reality, has a moment where he stops blaming the problems in the world on group think, on humanity and authority, and starts to face himself. …Nothing is going to change in the Congo until you and I figure out what is wrong with the person in the mirror.
–Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz