Our combined families went to church together in Fort Stockton last Sunday, and I’m sure the preacher wondered why the entire back pew, save one, was twitching with barely stifled giggles during the reading of “the Christmas Story” from Luke’s gospel. I hope he chalked it up to families experiencing the joy of glad tidings, but the real reason was quite a bit less spiritual, I’m afraid.
Quick rewind to Friday evening, Christmas eve. As has been our tradition for twenty years and more, we read the Christmas Story at my wife’s house prior to opening gifts. Actually, we’ve had the niece and nephew read it for the past ten years or so, figuring it was either (a) a good way to impress on them the true meaning of Christmas or (b) one more button to push in making them wait just a bit longer to tear into their gifts. Regardless, they’ve always been happy to oblige, and even now that they’re both teenagers, there’s no hint of protest. So perhaps (a) was the outcome, after all.
Anyway, the kidsters were alternating reading the passage from the King James Version and the niece happened to draw the part about the angels appearing to the shepherds. You know how it goes; let’s all say it together:
And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
Now, you’ve got to put yourself in a Lone Star (the state, not the beer) frame of mind, and imagine the following words being read aloud in a Texas drawl:
And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were shore afraid.
As long as she lives, I don’t believe my niece will ever be permitted to forget the night she pegged them pore sheepherders as shore being afraid. And, of course, she was the one trying to slide under the pew while the rest of us spasmed and snorted in church two days later. Perhaps she’ll have the last laugh when the New American Cowboy Version of the Bible is published.
Oddly enough, “sore afraid” doesn’t sound all that far from the corral, either.
Yeah, maybe King James was related to the King Ranch folks.
Eric, good story. Thanks for sharing!
A similar story came up during the sermon at Christmas Eve service this past week. A child, creating a Christmas tableau, used the carol, ‘Silent Night,’ as one of her guides. All of the figures in the tableau were recognizable except one – a round ball of clay with toothpicks for arms and legs. ‘Who is that,’ she was asked. ‘Round John,’ she answered, recalling the figure next to, ‘Virgin, Mother and Child.’
(with a tip of the hat to Pastor Steve at First Prez-Midland)
We’ll be heading Stockton-way ourselves later this week.