Transcript
A (0:00)
I remember my first Christmas as a Christian. I was ready to walk through the door into heaven. It was all the joy that I could handle. I remember as a young boy growing up in Pittsburgh and always dreaming of a white Christmas. And it was a tradition in our home to go to the Christmas Eve service every year. And that service began at 11:00'. Clock. But we would have to assemble outside of the church at about quarter after 10 because so many people congregated for that special candlelight event. And it was filled with pageantry and great choral music. And at about 13 minutes to 12, the minister would begin his Christmas Eve homily. And just as the clock reached 12 o'clock in the middle of his sermon, there was a signal given to the organist. And the organist would play the chimes in the church as if they were the chimes of a clock striking 12. And the pastor would stop his sermon in mid sentence as the chimes would begin to sound. 1, 2, 3, 4. And we would all sit there in the pews and count them. And as soon as the 12th tone had registered, the pastor would smile to the congregation and he would say, it's Christmas, and may I be the first on this day to wish you a merry Christmas. Well, that used to send chills up and down my spine. It was a tradition. He did it every year. In fact, he preached the same sermon every year on Christmas Eve in the candlelight service. And as I grew up, I never wanted to miss a service, and particularly on those Christmas Eves when it had snowed and the lawn was covered in the new fallen snow, and there was just something about it. I loved it, but I was not a believer. To me, this was all exciting pageantry, where the real fun came the next morning when we got to open the presents and enjoy the visitation of the man from the north pole. Then in 1957, in September of that year, I had my conversion to Christianity. And like any new Christian or young Christian, I was absolutely absorbed with the discovery of Christ. It was utter sweetness to me. And I had great delight in reading the Scriptures and talking to people about the things of God. Well, that happened in September, and by October, I was still walking on air. In November, I was still sky high, but I was already experiencing the ups and downs that new Christians tend to have. But I remember my first Christmas as a Christian, coming back home for the holidays, driving through the snow to the church, going into the sanctuary, singing the same hymns that I had sung for so many years, hearing exactly the same sermon, hearing the chimes strike midnight. And this time when the minister interrupted his sermon and listened to the chimes and then leaned over the pulpit and said, it's Christmas, I was ready to walk through the door into heaven. It was all the joy that I could handle, because now, for the first time, I was experiencing this pageantry as reality, as truth, as something that had really taken place.
B (4:14)