Special Holiday Message from Chas Cornweller
This time every year it comes to this. A season of goodwill and love toward our fellow humans and a generous and giving spirit to family and those less fortunate than us. At least that is the intent. Reality, for most of us, is quite different. But, I digress. I would like to remind readers of an actual moment of Christmas that truly occurred and resounds with the spirit, if not true intent of the birth of Humanity’s Savior.
1914 – The first year of World War I. Known as the Christmas truce, this Christmas moment occurred during a lull in fighting as the leadership considered their strategies following four months of static fighting and lack of progress for either side. By this point, many battalions of men had dug into the Belgium and French countryside for shelter and defensive protection. The land between the two sides had already earned its nickname; No Man’s Land. But the war was still in its infancy, unknown to the men fighting, at this time. There was still a certain amount of esprit de corps amongst the soldiers and even a respect for the enemy. In 1914, no one could foresee the horrors that would enfold these same trenches and the number of men who would fall. That Christmas, even in War, the world remained innocent.
The Christmas truce was not a sanctioned or even a pre-conceived truce but was built out of the spontaneity of the moment. Perhaps, a carol sung from one side and joined in by the other side. No one is really sure, no one now knows how it happened. But, inevitably fraternization occurred and before the day was out, gifts of chocolate, bread, tobacco and beer were exchanged throughout the entire front lines. Even more touching, photos of girlfriends, wives and families were viewed and commented upon, marking a truly personal exchange of a reality, much different than the moment they were currently experiencing. In some quarters, within the area now known as “No Man’s Land”, soccer (football to Europeans) matches took place. I can only imagine the air filled with the whoops and cries of grown men (and a few young boys, as well) yelling into the bleached-out winter day, encouraging their teams to score a goal or recover the ball from their opponents. The smoke of exchanged cigarettes and pipe tobacco mingled in the cold air with the hot breath of living beings, coupled with back-slaps and handshakes on a game well-played. An honest moment of true brotherly comradery. A rare moment in history that lasted only one day. A day that was honored and observed for the birth of one who, in the light of all of man’s evil, was supposed to wash the sins and guilt of all the malice that resides in man’s heart; clean away. A tiny baby, who when fully grown into manhood, would stand before the Prefect of Rome, the strongest and cruelest nation on Earth at that time, and be denounced unto death. A man, whose only crime was to challenge the status quo of a hierarchy that was not only corrupt but used their positions to mis-lead and mis-direct the populace with laws that had no heart and in turn, created a repressed and shallow society. A man whose divine soul was judged on Earth but had already been bestowed a crown in his father’s kingdom in Heaven. A teacher of men, whose words and deeds pointed the way to that Kingdom and promised peace and an everlasting existence in that peace. Who, while executed on a hillside, was found walking in a garden by Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James three days afterward. This is the message of that first Christmas day. The birth of the denial of death. Christmas reminds us of that promise. It should remind us of our own mortality and of that window that is life and the short time we all have here to give back. Those soldiers understood that. They had seen their comrades fall. They knew that only fate had kept them here for the time being. And they wanted nothing more than to experience normalcy and sanity, if just for one more day. I am sure, for many of these men, on both sides…this was their last Christmas.
The following year, there were few Christmas truces. The generals and their leaders made sure of it, posting strongly worded orders forbidding fraternization with the enemy on penalty of death. By 1916, the war had turned such that neither side was amenable to any truce. The world was no longer so innocent. Men died by the millions during that war. A war that was supposed to end all wars. But, you and I know that just isn’t so. So, even today, young men await their fate and fall on the battlefield. Many, if not all, are received into the Kingdom of that One whom all sins were washed, and are asked, as they enter, “What did you do on Earth with the time, talents and treasure given to you?
Christmas Day 2018 – List of Wars Currently – Cumulative Fatalities
- Afghanistan – 31,000 (civilians and combatants)
- Iraq – 500,000 (approximate)
- Mexican Drug War – 250,000 (approximate)
- Syrian – 450,000 (approximate) – of which contain civilian deaths due to famine
- Yemeni – 13,000 (approximate – due to battle) over 50,000 due to famine
Merry Christmas everyone. I pray we find the world at peace this time next year.
About the Author
Dear friend and fellow American patriot, Chas Cornweller, all in all, a thoughtful piece as we have come to expect from you in here, which expresses hope for the future, and as a grandparent, Chas Cornweller, I am for that, and who in their right mind wouldn’t be?
(I’ll refrain, in the spirit of the season, from getting political by saying that Burbank, California Democrat Congressman Adam Schiff and his defense contractor buddies who keep his pockets lined, if we are to believe his own campaign filings, would like it very much if the future were not peaceful – defense contractors make no money off of peace, and hence do not contribute to war mongers like Adam Schiff)
(On another note, I’ll refrain from getting political in here by not saying that it looks like Trump hs dealt a serious blow to the fundraising efforts of Adam Schiff by pulling our troops out of Syria and Afghanistnam)
But seriously, dude, you lost me right at the virtual get-go when you said as follows:
“This time every year it comes to this.”
“A season of goodwill and love toward our fellow humans and a generous and giving spirit to family and those less fortunate than us.”
“At least that is the intent.”
“Reality, for most of us, is quite different.”
end quotes
Talk about intellectual red meat laid before us to ponder, Chas Cornweller, there you have done the deed!
So tell us, Chas Cornweller – when you say, “at least that is the intent,” whose intent is it that you are talking about?
The White House?
The Democrats in the House of Representatives?
The intent of Nancy Pelosi and Charley “Chuck” Schumer and the Democratic Socialists of America who own Charley “Chuck” lock, stock and barrel?
Whose intent is it, Chas Cornweller, that this be a season of goodwill and love toward our fellow humans and a generous and giving spirit to family and those less fortunate than us?
And truthfully, Chas Cornweller, why shouldn’t that be every day, instead of 24/7/365?
And Chas Cornweller, not to be intentionally didactic with you here, given that this is a season of goodwill and love toward our fellow humans, including yourself, Chas Cornweller, but Pontius Pilate WAS NOT prefect of Rome when Jesus came before him to take responsibilty for his actions.
Pilate served as the prefect of Judaea from 26 to 36 A.D.
Pilate died 39 A.D.
The cause of his death remains a mystery, although some say suicide.
And as to Jesus, Chas Cornweller, there are many different versions of who he is.
Here is how the Irish see it, anyway:
“The Rebel Jesus”
The Chieftains
All the streets are filled with laughter and light
And the music of the season
And the merchants windows are all bright
With the faces of the children
And the families hurrying to their homes
As the sky darkens and freezes
They’ll be gathering around the hearths and tales
Giving thanks for all God’s graces
And the birth of the rebel Jesus
Well they call him by the Prince of Peace
And they call him by the Savior
And they pray to him upon the seas
And in every bold endeavor
As they fill his churches with their pride and gold
And their faith in him increases
But they’ve turned the nature that I worshipped in
From a temple to a robber’s den
In the words of the rebel Jesus
We guard our world with locks and guns
And we guard our fine possessions
And once a year when Christmas comes
We give to our relations
And perhaps we give a little to the poor
If the generosity should seize us
But if any one of us should interfere
In the business of why they are poor
They get the same as the rebel Jesus
But please forgive me if I seem
To take the tone of judgement
For I’ve no wish to come between
This day and your enjoyment
In this life of hardship and of earthly toil
We have need for anything that frees us
So I bid you pleasure
And I bid you cheer
From a heathen and a pagan
On the side of the rebel Jesus
And the very best of the season to the Cape Charles Mirror staff and all of its many readers!
And yes, people, our dear friend and fellow CCM commentator is quite right when he tells us that “(T)his time every year it comes to this,” because it does, every year, like clockwork, and here, people, I am talking about the longest night, which has just passed, so that now, to us simple, poor folk who live in the frozen wastelands to the north of balmy Cape Charles, Virginia, said to have the most pleasant climate in all of America outside of San Diego, California, the SUN has been reborn, and soon, soon enough, anyway, the power of the sun will cause the cold to recede and once again, new life will return to the land.
And if you are poor and living in a cold place, and there are many of us in this land of plenty for some, that is something to be truly thankful for, that you have life and health after the passing of the longest night.
You don’t hear that word used very much here in this modern America, where it has become the responsibility of the federal government to make people prosperous and fat and happy; thankfulness, I mean.
To the contrary, it seems to have become a time when nothing is ever enough!
When I was young, Christmas was a time of mystery, when you would wake up in the morning to find the tree all decorated, and lo and behold, there were your presents arrayed under it and waiting for you!
God bless Santa Claus!
One of my cherished gifts from Santa was an erector set!
As I think about it, seeing Christmas today as the glittery spectacle that it has become, I realize that when it comes to Christmas, I have much more in common with John boy from Little House On The Prairie than I do with many of the younger people in America today who seem to think of Christmas bounty as an entitlement, which of course, is their privilege to do so.
It is America, afterall, and in America today, greed is not only good, it is the engine that keeps the American economy rolling along, as well as that of China, so I guess that makes it a necessary component of the modern Christmas here in America.
Oh, well, such it is when it is, and that is that.
As for me, I sat down by the fire this morning, playing “Home Sweet Home” on my Irish flute, while being thankful that I have several weeks worth of firewood down under cover, so come what may, at least I won’t freeze for a few more weeks, and by then, the sun will be higher in the sky, and the number of weeks of cold left out ahead will have been diminished as a result, and who knows, with the grace of God, maybe I’ll get to see another spring and another turn of the wheel.
Something to hope for, anyway, although working to make it happen is a lot more productive use of that same energy!
As to peace on earth, that happens when people are at peace with themselves, and not before.
So when is that going to happen?
Any guesses, anyone?