Stolen Identities
Sermon
Daniel J. Weitner
And Other Reflections On Christmas
Object:
Freddie Cochrane was the reigning welterweight boxing
champion from 1941 to 1946. No fighter either before or after him
has been able to match the record. They say that records are made
to be broken, but Freddie's achievement is going to be around for
a long time to come.
On the fiftieth anniversary of his retirement from the ring, the man they knew as "Red" in his heyday was interviewed by a journalist from the most prestigious magazine in the sport. Red's life was chronicled from his youthful days as an aspiring boxer to his record-breaking performance at the apex of his strength and agility to his disappearance from mainstream society, his inability to keep either a job or a marriage, his punch-drunk depression, and finally, his lonely days as an old man, rejected and abandoned by an uncaring daughter.
The problem with the story is that not one word of it is true. Not because the article's author played fast and loose with the facts. But because the man who granted the interview was not Red. He was a brash, masterful fraud who managed to pull off a sham that ultimately embroiled everyone at the magazine in a multimillion-dollar lawsuit.
The real Freddie Cochrane had actually died three years before. It turns out he was nothing like the image that had been portrayed by the man posing as the fighter. After retiring from the ring, Red got a job that didn't make him a millionaire, but paid the bills and put food on the table.
He associated with people. He married only once. His mental faculties didn't abandon him until the very end of his life. And not only did his daughter not move away to avoid him, but visited him almost every day.
Stolen identities. All it takes is a bit of intelligence, a glib tongue, a buck to be made, or some power to be grabbed. There are people who would just love to separate you from your name, your reputation, your peace of mind, and anything else you may have earned along the way, provided there is something to be gained by the pilferage.
You see it in the news almost every day.
Somebody gets a uniform and a badge that look a lot like those worn by utility workers. He convinces the homeowner there's a problem with the gas lines in town and has to inspect the premises. By the time the owner realizes what's happened, the guy's gone -- along with jewelry, cash, and anything else that can be stuffed into a bag.
Somebody hangs a bunch of realistic-looking diplomas on an office wall, and hangs out a shingle indicating a new doctor's office is open for business in the neighborhood. Problem is, the man's a predator who's never seen the inside of a medical school. Several women are assaulted under anesthesia before the pattern of abuse is noted. By the time authorities arrive, the shingle, the sheepskins, and the phony physician have vanished.
And then there are those who've stolen an identity, but they aren't as easily detected. Because they represent something that's become an accepted part of the culture. It seems innocent enough. Benign. Sweet. But it's subtle. Like a subliminal message. For most of us, it's just there. Something on the order of elevator music: unless you concentrate on it, you don't really know it's playing.
What's the grand larceny? What's been stolen?
Christmas.
What are you saying? That the identity of Christmas is one of the things that's been changed? Without my realizing it? It seems the same now as it always did!
Exactly. Just my point. That Christmas appears not to be different is actually proof it's been altered. For so long that everything seems intact, normal, and in place. I can prove it. For just a second, close your eyes and think about a Christmas scene. Now freeze that image.
What do you see? Snow falling on silent streets which are lined with houses ablaze in a thousand lights of red, green, blue, and white? Or Santa Claus laughing, aloft in his crimson sleigh, equipped with an enormous sack which bursts with toys and goodies for the children? Or malls filling with shoppers who actually deign to speak civilly to one another?
What do you see? Soldiers casting aside their weapons and embracing old enemies as brothers and sisters, as universal peace finally envelops the earth and makes all people realize there is no difference at all among themselves?
What do you see? Dickens' classic tale, A Christmas Carol or O. Henry's touching story, "The Gift of the Magi" ... or Menotti's evocative opera, Amahl and the Night Visitors or Humperdinck's musical fantasy, Hansel and Gretel?
What do you see? The pear trees? The seven swans a-swimming? Or the presents? Or the pastries? Or the parties?
Am I right?
They are symbols, these things. Inexact representations, dim reflections, distant cousins of Christmas. But Christmas they are not. But we've been sold on the idea that they are. And that's where the problem lies.
A masterful job at stealing an identity, wouldn't you say? Here's what we've been told: Santa is Christmas; snow is Christmas; Frosty is Christmas; the tree is Christmas; the delight is Christmas; the warmth is Christmas; the feeling of peace is Christmas. The problem with these stories is that, like the article about Freddie Cochrane, they aren't true. Not one word. It turns out that Christmas is nothing like the image that has been portrayed.
The author of Hebrews opens the book with a statement that ought to jolt us wide awake around this time of year. Ready? Here it is:
In the past, God spoke to our forebears through the prophets ... but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son. [This] Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his Being, sustaining all things by his powerful word.
Do you see? You can no more declare Christmas equal to flying reindeer and roasting chestnuts than I can claim myself to be President of the United States. Jesus is not almost the representation of God. He is the exact representation. Jesus is not one son of God. He is the only-begotten Son. Jesus does not just closely mirror the nature, person, and mind of God. When you look at Jesus, and hear him speak, you see directly God's nature, person, and mind.
Christmas is not a day to celebrate commercial success. Christmas is not a day to congratulate human goodness. Christmas is the birth of Emmanuel. God-with-us. The Lord Jesus. The Savior.
Anything else is just a stolen identity.
On the fiftieth anniversary of his retirement from the ring, the man they knew as "Red" in his heyday was interviewed by a journalist from the most prestigious magazine in the sport. Red's life was chronicled from his youthful days as an aspiring boxer to his record-breaking performance at the apex of his strength and agility to his disappearance from mainstream society, his inability to keep either a job or a marriage, his punch-drunk depression, and finally, his lonely days as an old man, rejected and abandoned by an uncaring daughter.
The problem with the story is that not one word of it is true. Not because the article's author played fast and loose with the facts. But because the man who granted the interview was not Red. He was a brash, masterful fraud who managed to pull off a sham that ultimately embroiled everyone at the magazine in a multimillion-dollar lawsuit.
The real Freddie Cochrane had actually died three years before. It turns out he was nothing like the image that had been portrayed by the man posing as the fighter. After retiring from the ring, Red got a job that didn't make him a millionaire, but paid the bills and put food on the table.
He associated with people. He married only once. His mental faculties didn't abandon him until the very end of his life. And not only did his daughter not move away to avoid him, but visited him almost every day.
Stolen identities. All it takes is a bit of intelligence, a glib tongue, a buck to be made, or some power to be grabbed. There are people who would just love to separate you from your name, your reputation, your peace of mind, and anything else you may have earned along the way, provided there is something to be gained by the pilferage.
You see it in the news almost every day.
Somebody gets a uniform and a badge that look a lot like those worn by utility workers. He convinces the homeowner there's a problem with the gas lines in town and has to inspect the premises. By the time the owner realizes what's happened, the guy's gone -- along with jewelry, cash, and anything else that can be stuffed into a bag.
Somebody hangs a bunch of realistic-looking diplomas on an office wall, and hangs out a shingle indicating a new doctor's office is open for business in the neighborhood. Problem is, the man's a predator who's never seen the inside of a medical school. Several women are assaulted under anesthesia before the pattern of abuse is noted. By the time authorities arrive, the shingle, the sheepskins, and the phony physician have vanished.
And then there are those who've stolen an identity, but they aren't as easily detected. Because they represent something that's become an accepted part of the culture. It seems innocent enough. Benign. Sweet. But it's subtle. Like a subliminal message. For most of us, it's just there. Something on the order of elevator music: unless you concentrate on it, you don't really know it's playing.
What's the grand larceny? What's been stolen?
Christmas.
What are you saying? That the identity of Christmas is one of the things that's been changed? Without my realizing it? It seems the same now as it always did!
Exactly. Just my point. That Christmas appears not to be different is actually proof it's been altered. For so long that everything seems intact, normal, and in place. I can prove it. For just a second, close your eyes and think about a Christmas scene. Now freeze that image.
What do you see? Snow falling on silent streets which are lined with houses ablaze in a thousand lights of red, green, blue, and white? Or Santa Claus laughing, aloft in his crimson sleigh, equipped with an enormous sack which bursts with toys and goodies for the children? Or malls filling with shoppers who actually deign to speak civilly to one another?
What do you see? Soldiers casting aside their weapons and embracing old enemies as brothers and sisters, as universal peace finally envelops the earth and makes all people realize there is no difference at all among themselves?
What do you see? Dickens' classic tale, A Christmas Carol or O. Henry's touching story, "The Gift of the Magi" ... or Menotti's evocative opera, Amahl and the Night Visitors or Humperdinck's musical fantasy, Hansel and Gretel?
What do you see? The pear trees? The seven swans a-swimming? Or the presents? Or the pastries? Or the parties?
Am I right?
They are symbols, these things. Inexact representations, dim reflections, distant cousins of Christmas. But Christmas they are not. But we've been sold on the idea that they are. And that's where the problem lies.
A masterful job at stealing an identity, wouldn't you say? Here's what we've been told: Santa is Christmas; snow is Christmas; Frosty is Christmas; the tree is Christmas; the delight is Christmas; the warmth is Christmas; the feeling of peace is Christmas. The problem with these stories is that, like the article about Freddie Cochrane, they aren't true. Not one word. It turns out that Christmas is nothing like the image that has been portrayed.
The author of Hebrews opens the book with a statement that ought to jolt us wide awake around this time of year. Ready? Here it is:
In the past, God spoke to our forebears through the prophets ... but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son. [This] Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his Being, sustaining all things by his powerful word.
Do you see? You can no more declare Christmas equal to flying reindeer and roasting chestnuts than I can claim myself to be President of the United States. Jesus is not almost the representation of God. He is the exact representation. Jesus is not one son of God. He is the only-begotten Son. Jesus does not just closely mirror the nature, person, and mind of God. When you look at Jesus, and hear him speak, you see directly God's nature, person, and mind.
Christmas is not a day to celebrate commercial success. Christmas is not a day to congratulate human goodness. Christmas is the birth of Emmanuel. God-with-us. The Lord Jesus. The Savior.
Anything else is just a stolen identity.
