HORN OF PLENTY-TO-BE-THANKFUL-FOR

Thanksgiving—yes, it's “cornucopia” time, with the cone-shaped decor stuffed with leaves and autumn leaves or fruits brought out of storage for this season. So named for its cone shape (duh!), some sources say its use dates even to the Bronze Age (3300-1200 B.C.). Back then, of course, it had nothing to do with “Thanksgiving” as we know it. Instead, “cornucopias” were broken off-animal horns.

The name derives from the Latin cornu (for “horn”) and copia (for “plenty”). Word-origin tales include two from Greek mythology. One says the baby Zeus accidentally broke off the horn of a goat that nursed him. As the tale goes, the horn provided divine, unending nourishment. The other myth concerns Zeus's offspring Hercules, who broke off the horn of a river god. Somehow in the detours that myths take, the “horn” became a symbol of an abundant harvest.

Fast track through more history, and the Vikings, Germanic tribes, Celts and Romans began using horns as drinking utensils. Eventually man-crafted horn-like drinking vessels emerged, made of ivory and embellished with gold, silver and enamel. Out in the fields, the curved cone shape morphed into a strapped basket that hung from the shoulders of harvest workers. (I can just imagine its practicality for crops like grapes and other fruit.) Advance to our times, when the cornucopia is typically reserved for November decorations, filled with autumn leaves, nuts, miniature pumpkins and gourds.

So, yes, I dug out our decades-old cornucopia for display this November. I also recalled how for many years another November “tradition” at our home was a family “thankful box.” This was a square facial tissue box onto which I glued autumn-motif fabric. I put it on the table with scraps of paper and a pencil. All month, family members were to fill it with notes about what they were thankful for. On Thanksgiving evening, we emptied the “box” and read aloud the notes. It was a wonderful way to practice the scriptural admonition:

In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. --1 Thessalonians 5:18 (KJV).

Alas, in our times, we rush through the “cornucopia” season to the buy-buy-buy season. The day after Thanksgiving is known as “black Friday” for the frantic search for holiday bargains ahead of Christmas. Such frenzy stands in contrast to the simple message that the cornucopia symbolizes. The best things aren't on sale racks. They're in the simple provision of daily sustenance that comes from the heart and hand of our generous God. Thanksgiving-time “thankfulness” should recalibrate our hearts for the December-celebrated, supreme reason for “thankfulness”: a Savior, Christ the Lord.

DUSTY...

Spider webs captured smoke ash
on shrubs at my home

My household “chore” as a small child was “dusting” the furniture, wiping an old flannel cloth across surfaces. I don't recall dawdling and using my finger to write my name in the dust, although I could have so-”autographed” the household furniture. I just wanted to get through my chore! I remember that chore now as I notice more-than-usual household dust in my own home, no thanks to multiple wildfires in hills and mountains in my part of the state.  

Winds are wafting the smoke into our valley, dusting everything (including what sneaks into the house) with a gray ash veil. And I remember....that ash had great symbolic meaning in the Bible. Often it's used for human mortality and humility before God. One of the more familiar occasions: Job, bereft of all he held dear (children, possessions, health) and left only with a crabby wife. Here he sat in ashes, afflicted with a miserable illness such that nobody wanted to get too close to him, and she hollers, “Curse God and die” (Job 2:9). (I wouldn't call her an “encourager”!)

It helps to understand this Biblical “sitting in ashes” pose to realize that in those times ashes represented repentance, mourning, humility, and morality. Besides sore-covered Job sitting in the ash heap, some centuries later there was city-wide ash-sitting in Nineveh. That's when Jonah, still dripping in whale saliva, followed through with God's command to call the city to repentance. It shocked the whole evil town, and even the king put aside his royal robes for sackcloth, and left his throne for a pile of ashes (Jonah 3:6).

Such history helps me understand why in Mosaic law, ashes were used in purification rituals. Representing human frailty, judgment and destruction, ashes pointed to cleansing and hope. But I think Jesus put another spin on the rite when He rebuked the evil cities of Korazin and Bethsaida (located north of the Sea of Galilee), which--despite seeing His miracles--refused to repent (“in sackcloth and ashes”--Matt. 11:21) for their sins.

There's nothing magic about “dust and ashes.” But there is truth in their symbolism: that of admitting that the “things of earth”—like living a “good” but Christ-empty life--are worthless unless there's a heart renewed by the purifying power of God.

BEDSIDE BUDDIES

I'm trying to break a habit—of having way too many books on my bedside table. I know of folks who can't head for bed until they've watched the 10 o'clock evening news. I fade before then, preferring to let God's Word or wisdom from others who've absorbed spiritual truths be my “last thoughts” of the day. So, yes, some classic and edifying books are stacked next to my alarm clock.

Here are the books I'd accumulated at bedside before my recent pare-down (I kept about half bedside). The ones I removed are now on an office bookshelf—still appreciated as faithful “book friends” to which I will return for spiritual challenge and hope.

*The Disciplines of Life by V. Raymond Edman (c. 1948). He was the fourth president of Wheaton College in Illinois (1941-1965) and then was college chancellor. He died in 1967 while speaking to students in the college chapel. Today, the chapel at this well-known Christian college bears his name. So do the titles of 19 Christian books. This one develops 31 seemingly negative circumstances (all starting with the letter “d,” like “danger” and “disillusionment”) and draws from them their hidden spiritual blessings. In other words, looking at the “good” that can come out of life's “bad.”

*The Amplified New Testament (c. 1958). I have my mother's copy of this devotional (she died in 1978). I appreciate the “enlargement” of original Greek word meanings in its text (designated by parenthesis) plus am touched to see which verses she had underlined in red.

*My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers (c. 1935). Based on devotionals he delivered in England and to English troops stationed in Egypt (1911-1917).

*Streams in the Desert by Mrs. Charles Cowman (c. 1966). Classic devotional by former missionary, draws heavily from classic Christian literature.

*Be Worshipful by Warren Wiersbe (c. 2004). An insightful and practical study of Psalms. I had the privilege of meeting this pastor/teacher/writer when he spoke to my graduate class at Wheaton College.

*The Practice of Godliness (1983) and The Pursuit of Holiness (1978) by Jerry Bridges. Lived-through, challenging studies of these spiritual qualities by a man long associated with The Navigators ministry.

*Hurt People Hurt People by Dr. Sandra Wilson (c. 2001). This former family therapist's insights helped me navigate past emotional wounding.

*Healing for Damaged Emotions by David Seamands (c. 1981). Helpful for healing from challenging relationships, meaningful for same reason as Dr. Wilson's book (above).

Yes, I also have a Bible on my bedside table—actually, a small, lightweight New Testament for those “final moments of the night” that I like to close with something from God's Word. Its small size also helps me with scripture memorization. No more hoisting my heavy reference Bible back and forth for that discipline of getting God's Word “inside” me.

I have to confess that a few years ago, my evening “habit” included one of the prime-time TV game shows. I enjoyed trying to beat the contestants to the right answer. But the Lord drew me away from that, reminding me of the better priority of absorbing His love letter to me with its messages of hope and help for life's challenges. I rarely watch television anymore.

I get little reader feedback from this blog, though the internet statistics show many are clicking into it. Would you care to share your favorite bedside books in the comments section below?