Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Call Me Scrooge!

Poor Scrooge! Despite being "redeemed every year" as his timeless story is told and re-told (and Disney's new 3-D, animated version is a surprisingly fresh and faithful rendering), he just can't seem to shake the bad rap. To be called a Scrooge today, for example, undoubtedly means you're tight-fisted with buck - as I know I can be, to my shame. But I do wonder (as I wander), will the name of Scrooge forever be associated with his past sins - even though his story ends so gloriously?:

"Many laughed to see this alteration in him, but he let them laugh and little heeded them. His own heart laughed and that was quite enough for him. And it was always said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge."

I want to be that Scrooge! I mean, think of it. The very sight of him - which once elicited shudders and chills - now brings others deep joy and delight! How inviting is that?!

But perhaps the greater irony concerning Scrooge has to do with his first name, Ebenezer, which is I'm guessing why Dickens chose it.  Following the pattern of many good words from antiquity, Ebenezer once enjoyed a better past. Long before all the negative Scrooge connotations, the Hebrew word originally came from the Israelites setting up a commemorative stone (literally, "a stone of help," see I Samuel 7:12-14). The idea was they could look at it and remember God's preserving grace to them in the past, and thus be encouraged for the present and the future. Kind of like Scrooge needing those three visitations before he could celebrate.

But why a memorial stone, or stars (for Abraham), or bread and wine? Why Christmas movies, and carols, and gifts? Apparently God knew the Israelites, much like Scrooge (and me) were prone to forgetting certain key things - really important things like past grace, and His future promise to care. And so God graciously gives to us Ebenezers, or physical remembrances, because while it's true that faith comes by hearing (Rom. 10:17), God throws in seeing, tasting, and touching as a bonus, added means to spark off our celebrations.

Christmas then, like good counseling, is in large part about helping us remember - or maybe even learn for the first time - that an outrageously gracious God has come to heal twisted pasts, and to bring us joy. Like the surprise gift you never expected, God wants to surprise even you with unimaginable and healing grace, so that you will be set free to really know, love and enjoy him.

So what are three "Ebenezers" that a better Scrooge and Christmastime helps us remember, so that we may celebrate well this year?

Ghost of Christmas Past (Ebenezer stone #1):  Your past story matters immensely, but it need not define you (i.e., make you a crotchety Scrooge forever).

In the original Carol, Dickens wisely gives us glimpses of a young Ebenezer, and we are saddened by the sheer amount of brokenness. There he sits, alone at school. We then learn that his mother died giving birth to him, which likely (and sadly) accounts for his father's relational coldness - a trait he not surprisingly comes to follow. His beloved sister Fan also dies in childbirth, bearing his nephew Fred. So when Ebenezer turns for rescue, as we often do, to the illusory "safety" of making money (his "golden idol" of choice), sacrificing the prospect of a loving marriage in the process, we see clearly where pain and bitterness can take us.

Like all of us, Scrooge is clearly a victim, but also a victimizer. But how much do we take pride in wearing these labels - "I'm an adult survivor of ________ (fill in the blank)?" Here is where the story, like our persistent God, surprises us. For like the three visitors, God Himself wants to get our attention long enough to hear him say, "No, that is not your true identity - if you let me surprise you with my visitation. His name is Immanuel, God with us, and His past included a manger and a cross, followed by an empty tomb." So now, if you meet and really get to know this living Jesus, as Sinclair Ferguson notes, "His past now becomes your past." Beloved child, son or daughter, becomes your new and better name. But how is this possible, you ask?

Ghost of Christmas Present (Ebenezer stone #2):  Jesus can teach you to love - and rescue you when you don't.

I always love the scene when Scrooge is cut to the heart by peering in on the Cratchit's humble yet loving home - just what he (and we) needed to convict our hearts about our failures in love! In the same way, do you really think you can learn to love without seeing God's grace in action - without seeing the real point of the manger and cross? The important "Ebenezer" here is that trying to give yourself a new law to "just go out and love" will only leave you powerless and sad, crying out like Scrooge to Marley, "Speak words of comfort to me, Jacob!" (At this point the Law will also answer, "I have none to give.") You can't do it! That's the whole point of Jesus coming at Christmas. God's commands to love are meant to serve as a mirror in which we gaze long enough to see our dirty faces (hearts), leading us to seek after (cry out for) the soap, the cleansing blood of Christ:

So the law was put in charge to lead us to Christ that we might be justified by faith. (Galatians 3:24)
and
...the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love. (Galatians 5:6)

Only as we turn from ourselves to look (and rest) in Christ, are we then empowered anew to love.

Moralism and legalism, along with good intentions, weren't born in the manger - but they were crucified on the cross. So try this Gospel remedy to counteract your tendency to run back to legalism, as the old preacher McCheyne suggested: for every one look at your sin, take ten at Christ. The loving Christ of Christmas - given for you - is your present substitute and cleansing, not just your past or future Savior.

Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come (Ebenezer stone #3): God holds your future! (Better yet, God is your future)

Further, understand that what you do right now, at this very moment, matters for the future. I love the film versions of A Christmas Carol which show a humbled Scrooge, upon having immediately secured the prize turkey for the Cratchit's Christmas feast, in worship on Christmas morning, singing. So start by cranking up some good Christmas carols, and take the opportunity to sit and listen closely to the words: Hark, the Herald Angels Sing (the one the new Scrooge usually sings) is unparalleled for its Gospel truth. I'm also reminded of a dear friend who had her own "visitation" with a line in O Holy Night (the line was "Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth." Very cool). Christmas Carols make an awesome Ebenezer. But you must learn to be still and listen (Ps. 46:10). But then don't just be still. Break out, like Scrooge on Christmas morning, and dance and sing. Then I'll call you Scrooge too, and together we'll say,
God bless us, everyone!

(Movie note: I had a great time with my teen-age son watching the latest Disney version of A Christmas Carol, 3-D glasses and all. The film is surprisingly scary, however, so those with small kids may want to take note! Enjoy, and Merry Christmas!)