Chapter 7-b1-ed

 New Year

(Early 25 December, 1912)

c. 2011 S. Harvey

Used With Permission

 

 

 

 

 

Madeleine shivered as she came into the house from midnight mass on Christmas Eve. "Étienne", she said, "the fire’s gone out, can you fix it?"
As Etienne stoked up the fire, Madeleine lit candles for their family, and brought the food out for their supper. When they had eaten, they exchanged their Christmas gifts with each other by candlelight, with the sound and smell of the stove crackling in the corner. When they were finished, Madeleine brought the coffee pot from the stove and poured a cup of coffee for each of them, then she watched as Étienne went into the other room and came back with two parcels. He said, "George and Arthur left these for us – they wanted me to keep them until Christmas Eve and asked that we unwrap them at the same time."

 When Madeleine opened her parcel, she found a tiny carved wooden figurine of a woman playing a fiddle and doing the jig at the same time. She looked over at the small figurine that Étienne was holding. It was the figure of a man playing a guitar and jigging. Both figures wore a Métis ceinture flechée, and Madeleine noticed that both the figures looked astoundingly like her and her brother.

Étienne said, "He must have carved these in the last two weeks – that must be why he asked me to show him how to do the jig – he had to get the feet right – and he did!

Madeleine said, "Look, there's a note here". She opened the note and read out loud,

"Étienne and Madeleine,

I made these as a gift from George and I to both of you in appreciation of all the help you have given us since our arrival.

For me, perhaps the greatest gift has been acceptance, and Étienne, the example you have given me about how we can live our lives even if we lose a finger, or get cut off at the knees. I'm afraid I didn't quite get the carvings the way I wanted – if I were doing them again, I would have both heads thrown back a bit more in laughter – but maybe next time.

Merry Christmas,

Your friends,

Arthur and George.

 

*********

 

On the Sunday between Christmas and New Year's, after several days of tobogganing, visiting, singing and laughter, to say nothing of feasting on Ada's special Christmas donuts, Arthur was glad to stop and reflect on their week together, as he sat in church with the others, just a few hours before their trains were to take them back to their homes.

When sermon time rolled around, Arthur settled back in his pew, intent on reflecting and savouring the Christmas memory moments, trying to fix them solidly in his mind, so that he could carry them forward into the coming year.

He was only partially aware of what the minister was saying, but for some reason started to listen more carefully. What captured his attention, although he wasn't quite sure he had heard correctly, was the minister say the word "leprosy".

Just when he thought he must have been imagining it, he felt his brother George put his hand on his knee, lean over and whisper quietly in his ear, "Just – stay – calm". He hadn't imagined it.

Arthur tried to force himself to stay calm and not attract attention to himself, all the while becoming very alert to everything the minister was saying.

... I have a little tradition when I go to a new congregation like this one, and that is to speak on this topic on the Sunday between Christmas and New Year's the first year in any new congregation. This is the fifth time that I have preached on this subject, and I have to admit that every time I do so, I get more out of it.

The people of the congregation laughed quietly.

 You might think that when I preach a sermon it's just for you – well it's not – it may be for you, but it's also for me. Especially today – because I always have to be reminded what these words mean for all of us as we face the New Year, and perhaps face challenges which most of us can't see coming.

Some of you will notice that I did not read the Bible passage today, and that is because I want to talk about it now. It's a fascinating little story – one that I find very inspiring – particularly on my first Sunday of the New Year, in a brand-new congregation.

I've been here long enough now to get to know you, and to find out some of the challenges facing you and the people in this town at this particular time. Every minister that comes here, finds a slightly different situation, and faces new challenges.

Every minister who comes here is also leaving somewhere else – either he's leaving a college where he studied, or he's leaving another congregation where he has lived for a while, or he's leaving some part of his past – either a precious part, of a part he would rather forget.

I know that's true for many of you as well. We pause at this time of year and look back at our past, and we look at the open door to the new year. Sometimes that's a bit frightening.

Somebody asked me once "What can we possibly learn from a leper – even in their own day, they were cast out of the community – so why even bother listening to anything about them?"

I must admit, I once felt the same way. That is, until I met my first leper. Some of you may know him. He lived here in this area before he caught leprosy, and his brother lived here and helped start the university here. And as a matter of fact, we have three of his children and a niece worshiping with us today.

I have to confess that I learned more from my friend John Davis than he ever learned from me. I learned a lot from him before he went to India as a missionary. I learned even more from him when he came home stricken with leprosy, and even as I speak he is a hospital in New Brunswick for treatment.

So what did I learn from my friend John? One of the things I learned was the lesson that I had been preaching at the first of each of my pastorates since John and I graduated from theology together. Only the way that he taught me was far more vivid to me even than this story – vivid as it is.

What he taught me was that it is more helpful to move forward in life, than to try and go back to a life that is no longer possible, or to stay where we are. Let me illustrate from this anecdote we find in the Bible.

It seems that the city of Samaria, which was the capital of the northern part of Israel about 700 years before Christ was born, was surrounded by the Syrian army. The city was under siege, and had been for quite a while. Now the people on the inside of the city were having a very tough time. But there was a little group of people who were having an even worse time.

This little group of people were four lepers. These men had been thrown out of the city of Samaria because those citizens were afraid that the lepers might spread their leprosy to others. So these four men were huddled in the gate of the city. Like the people inside the city, they had no food or water.

After a few days of huddling in the gate, one of them said a line which has now become very well known to many people – "Why sit we here till we die? If we go back into the city they will kill us. If we move forward there is a good chance the surrounding army will kill us. But if we just sit here, we will surely starve to death – so why sit we here till we die? Let's move forward."

As the minister's words flowed into Arthur's ears, he could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising. He could hardly breathe. It was like everything in the room faded away except the minister at the front. Wave after wave of challenging words swept over him just like the incoming surf on the beach back in India when he was a child.

Now I know that you have sometimes been in a situation like this, just as I have been – and just as I am now. I look at my past and I know that I can't go back to the world I knew, to the world that was comfortable, to the world that was safe, to the world that I thought would last forever. I just can't do that – nobody can.

And I know as I look into the future I know that there are great the uncertainties – for you, and for me, for everybody. Sometimes we know what those uncertainties are. But most times we don't. We think that we know what's going to happen to us for good or for ill, but often it's something totally different – we really don't know.

The temptation of course is to stop. The temptation is to not move ahead. The temptation is to take what is known and try and hold onto it, rather than to take the unknown and to move into it.

And that's where this line speaks to us – if we go back they will surely kill us; if we go forward, the Army may kill us; but if we stay here we will surely die.

Arthur realized that he had moved forward on the pew and was leaning in to the minister, trying to hear as clearly as he could. Once he realized that, he quietly sat back on his pew and tried to force himself to relax and look casual. After a moment he stole a glance at Ada, and they exchanged smiles.

When I visited with my friend John two years ago, he said to me, "Don't try to go back, don't stay where you are, seize the future and move into it. And then he reminded me of this story.

When we look once more at the story, we realize that these men felt quite certain that the Syrian army was completely surrounding the city, and that their lines were impenetrable. They held out little hope for their own survival once they left the shelter of the city gates, and moved into what they felt was certain death.

What they didn't know, was the reaction of the enemy troops to their moving forward. It seems that they were not being all that careful about being quiet – for they felt no need to conceal their presence – what would be the point?

What they didn't know was that the enemy troops had indeed heard them approach. What they didn't know was that when the enemy heard their approach, they feared the worst, dropped everything, and fled in terror. The enemy didn't flee at what was known; they fled at what was unknown. Rather than moving into their future – they ran back into their past – rather than running into their future, they didn't even stay in their present – they fled to where they came from.

The four starving lepers walked into the enemy's camp, sat down and had a lovely meal on tables already spread for dinner – they picked up bags full of booty and buried them for later.

Suddenly, these four men who had been thrown out of their community, who had their livelihoods stripped from them, who had lost all hope for future life, were living in fairyland.

After an hour or so of this, one of them said, "We had better go and tell the people in the city, because they're not going to be too pleased when they discover that we knew all the time there was no enemy out here – when they discover that we knew they could move into their future rather than stay in the present.

So of course they went back to the city, but nobody would believe them, nor would they open the gates. After all, they said, "What can we possibly learn from a leper – let alone four lepers?"

However, somebody persuaded the king to send out a spy to check out the story – maybe there was some truth in it.

The King agreed. However his chief civil servant put up a protest – why are we to believe a leper – what could he possibly teach us – for we know better – we are better – he is as nothing to us.

Now the man who had persuaded the king turned to the civil servant and said "You have a bad attitude – and that attitude is going to get you killed by the end of today. I know your type – you're going to be standing there saying "nay – nay" in the middle of the gate when the whole city decides it's time to move forward and they're going to run right over you.

When people get tired of staying where they are, and they decide to go forward they will run right over people who are trying to stay in the same place.

When people get tired of staying where they are and decide to go backward into their past, they will run right over people who want to stay in the same place.

The most dangerous place in the world to stand is right where you are – it's when you stand still there is the greatest danger of getting run over – get moving.

Of course the civil servant didn't believe him, so he went and stood in the gate waiting for the spy to come back. He didn't believe the news from the spy, but he sent him on to talk to the king. When the spy reported to the king that indeed there was no army out there and they could move forward, the city exploded out of the gate – and indeed, the civil servant was run over – trampled to death as he tried to stay where he was when everybody else was trying to move forward.

Maybe that's you. Maybe that's me. Maybe that's our neighbour – I can't do much about you and the choices you make – those are yours to make.

I can't do much about my neighbour and the choices he or she makes – that's their choice.

The only situation I can do much about is my own. And the only situation you can do much about is your own.

Are you going to stand where you are? Are you going to try and run back into your past, which is in fact impossible? Or are you going to learn from a leper – my friend John – or from four lepers who we read about in this story – and move into your future – even if it seems a little scary.

We can't see the future. We can't see what's coming around the corner. We think we know, but we really don't. When we get married, we do it for better or worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health – until one of us dies. We say those words because we don't know – and yet we commit ourselves to staying together regardless of what happens. Sometimes we get to know a little bit of what's going to happen, but most times we don't.

We may be facing a terrible uncertainty like my friend John. But we never know when a cure will be developed and suddenly the end which we thought was so certain evaporates.

We may be facing a delightful future, like many of us here – and yet suddenly we can find out our legs are cut out from under us, and the best of life which seemed right within our grasp, evaporates.

The only question that really faces each of us – in good circumstances and in bad circumstances is a question that faced these four lepers in the gate, and faces my friend John – why sit we here till we die – if we go back we will certainly die, if we go forward we may indeed die, but if we stay here we will surely die.

The service ended and Arthur was only vaguely aware of his surroundings as he moved out of the church into the bright noon-hour winter sunshine.

Three hours later, after teary farewells at the station, and promises to keep in touch, Arthur found himself sitting on the train seat facing his brother George. Then, it was like he finally woke up, even though he had been walking around.

As his eyes found their focus on George, George said with a smile, "I'm glad you could join me finally."

Arthur slowly closed his eyes and opened them again and said quietly, "I'm not sure exactly what happened back there in church, but it's like everything has changed in me."

George asked, "In what way?"
"It was like he was speaking right into my life – and I guess he was, although I'm sure he had no idea of my condition – and yet he knew of my real condition – he knew it so well."

George sat quietly rocking to the gentle sway of the railway coach. Arthur continued, "I hadn't realized that I was standing still. I thought I was going forward, but I don't think I was. I hadn't realized how frightened I was of the future – of my future – a future I thought I knew all about – but suddenly I realized I don't – nobody does.

After a moment he asked, "How about you George? What did you hear this morning?"
George said, "I don't think I heard as much as you – maybe that just speaks to where I am compared to where you are."
"What do you mean?"
"I was going forward in my life. I was at university. I thought I knew where I was going and what I wanted to do, and I knew that I was on the move."
"And then I came along and wrecked up your plans?"
George shook his head and said, "No, then I went to church – the Sunday after I heard about your situation – and that's when the preacher spoke into my life like this fellow did for you today."
"What did he say?"
"I was at university getting trained to go help people – people like to Yardley's. I was hustling right along. And then, I heard a cry from the ditch – my brother was in the ditch – and I wanted to pass by on the other side – that's the first time I really heard that story of the good Samaritan.

George paused for a moment and then he said, "You know why those other men didn't stop to lend a hand even for a short while?"
"They wanted to get to church – oh – they wanted to go help people."
"Partly – that part I was aware of – but it wasn't until that day in church that the preacher pointed out the other reason – they were scared. They were afraid that the robbers were still around and that they might get beaten up and left by the side of the road as well, as life passed them by.

George looked out the train window absently, and then turned back to Arthur. He continued, "It wasn't until that Sunday that I was confronted with my own fear – that if I stopped and helped you to have a few good years before you died, that I too might be stricken with the disease – not just any disease, but the one that our dad is dying of right now. I hadn't wanted to face  the fact that I cared more about myself than I cared about my brother – just like the men in the story.
George paused, and then continued, "You said that today you had realized that you were standing still. For me, that day I realized that I was afraid. I realized I was trying to hide my fear by being the hero and going off to help people. I couldn't do that. That's when I said I would go with you and see if we could squeeze some good life out of the a few you have left – just like our dad had a few good years before he had to go to hospital.

Arthur thought about this for a while and then he said, "You know George, I appreciate you stopping – pouring on some oil and wine – propping me up on your donkey – and taking me up to the Homestead where I can touch the earth and get healed – maybe not healed on the outside, but healed on the inside.

I guess what I hadn't realized was that once we get healed on the inside we’re free to move forward – and that moving forward is a scary thing for most people – because it's unknown to us. We don't know whether we're going to get mugged, we don't know whether we're getting leprosy, and we don't know if we're going to give the disease to somebody else. Life is a bit spooky for all of us I guess.

After a moment he said, "But can't you picture us going down the road from Yorkton to Colwyn Bay with all those jingly bells on the horses harnesses? – they'll hear us coming – and they'll know we're moving forward into life – right George?
George nodded and said, "Right!"