Merry Christmas - 2025

Merry Christmas! 

I have done a good job this year preparing for Christmas.  Advent seems to breeze past me every year and I find myself regretting, a little, my lack of preparation.  Not so this year.  I've been preparing for several months, in fact.

One theme has resonated with me throughout Advent...  

The stars in the sky.

Did you know that there are more stars than there are grains of sand?  That's hard to fathom, I know, but it's true.  A portion of the stars that we see in the sky are part of the Milky Way galaxy, of which our little solar system is a tiny part.  There are hundreds of billions of stars in the Milky Way galaxy.

Furthermore, many of the stars you see in the sky are actually other galaxies, larger than our own, with countless more stars.  

If you looked through a telescope, you would see even more stars and galaxies that cannot be seen with our naked eye.  The expanse of the universe is beyond comprehension, it's real but it's hard to believe.

Then consider that light travels 670,616,629 miles per hour.  The Sun is about 93 million miles from Earth, so the light that leaves the sun arrives on Earth about 8 minutes later.

The Voyager I spacecraft launched in 1977 and is still making its way into space.  It's about 15 billion miles away and by the end of 2026 it should be one light day away - meaning it would take one day to get back to Earth if it traveled at the speed of light.

That means when you observe the stars, you're actually looking back into time.  The stars are so far away that the light we see left it's source before the Earth existed, long before dinosaurs, long before mankind.  In fact, some telescopes can see so far into history that it approaches when the universe began... the Big Bang. 

Many of the stars we see today no longer exist.  They've burned up or imploded, but we still see them.  We know that's true because we can see the evidence of stars that we can no longer see. 

I find that incredibly humbling.  How significant are we in the grand scheme of things, really?

I have a couple of good friends who have suffered the unimaginable loss of their spouse this year.  Words fail me to provide the comfort that I know they need as they navigate their grief.  I have reflected on it, a lot, as I've prepared for Christmas this year.

I find comfort in the stars.

You could sum it up as Dr. Ian Malcolm did in Jurassic Park, "God creates dinosaurs, God destroys dinosaurs. God creates Man, Man destroys God. Man creates dinosaurs".  We think we are special.  We even think we're so special that those around us can be less special... immigrants, the hungry, the tired masses yearning to be free invited by the Statue of Liberty, people who don't look like me.  We may even say we believe in God while we treat those around us in a way that defies his top commandment - to love thy neighbor.

The reality is we ARE special, but not in the way that we think we are.

Christmas exemplifies our specialness.  As John 3:16 begins, "For God so loved the world", He chose us, out of the myriad times and places in the universe.  God created everything... even the stars in the sky that were created billions of billions of years ago.  We are special because God's immense love for humanity resulted in giving mankind His only Son, Jesus Christ, so that anyone who believes in Him would receive eternal life and not perish. 

Not perish... how could that be?

I guess you'd have to look to Easter to understand the true meaning of Christmas.  Christ's death and resurrection is the proof of eternal life and triumph over death.

To me, the evidence is also in the love we share with others and the loss we feel when they leave us.  

It's reminiscent of the famous letter from Major Sullivan Ballou, killed in 1861 on the battlefield of Manassas at the beginning of the Civil War.  An excerpt follows but you can read it in it's entirety here.

"Sarah, my love for you is deathless. It seems to bind me with mighty cables, that nothing but Omnipotence can break; and yet, my love of country comes over me like a strong wind, and bears me irresistibly on with all those chains, to the battlefield. The memories of all the blissful moments I have spent with you come crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful to God and you, that I have enjoyed them so long. And how hard it is for me to give them up, and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our boys grow up to honorable manhood around us.

I know I have but few claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me, perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar, that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, nor that, when my last breath escapes me on the battle-field, it will whisper your name.

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless, how foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears, every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot, I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more.

But, O Sarah, if the dead can come back to this earth, and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you in the garish day, and the darkest night amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours always, always, and, if the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air cools your throbbing temples, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Sarah, do not mourn me dear; think I am gone, and wait for me, for we shall meet again.

I think we can all see a little of ourselves in Major Ballou, and perhaps in his dear Sarah too, when we consider those we love.  We often see signs that remind us of our loved one's presence... like the sight of their favorite bird just as you've been thinking of them, or feeling the warmth of sunshine on an otherwise cloudy day.

The stars guided mariners as they crossed the oceans in search of trade and commerce.  A compass alone was not enough to complete the journey.  Once you passed the horizon and lost sight of land, everything looked the same.  You needed to have some idea of where you are, or you'd be lost.

It was a star, that guided the Magi to Bethlehem to honor the birth of Jesus.  Imagine a star appearing in the sky to aid finding your way to Christ.  There are many theories how this could have actually happened but if God created the universe, how hard would it be to create a temporary celestial object to guide the Magi?  This is the reason we decorate our homes and Christmas trees with a star.

To summarize, my Christmas reflection has four themes, and I hope they resonate with you too this season.  

First, consider the stars in the sky as evidence of the divine nature of God, beyond our ability to begin to comprehend or even imagine.  Second, God created everything but He loved humanity so much that He sent His only Son, to live among us, to die for us and thereby to give us eternal life.  Third, God's love for us is manifested in the love we feel for those around us - and how we continue to feel the presence of that love when they have left us.  Finally, that the stars in the sky should remind us of our place, albeit temporary and minor, in the grand order of things, and that we can live the spirit of Christmas in how we treat our neighbor, welcome the refugee, feed the hungry, or include the marginalized around us.

The watch that inspired this line of reflection reminded me of stars, as you will see why.  I've had it for several months and meditated on what it meant to me.

It's a 1966 Lord Lancaster N - it's a one year wonder, and it's a wonder to look at as well  It's cased in solid 14K white gold and features 36 diamonds that total 1/2 carat weight.  It really is a striking object to behold.

It's interesting to note that the catalog neglected to list a price.  Conventional wisdom is this was due to the fluctuating price of diamonds at the time.  That leaves the original price up to your imagination.  The most expensive watch, by far, in the 1966 catalog was $275 (the Lord Lancaster T).  That equates to about $2,750 today.  The Lord Lancaster T also featured diamonds (24 of them) and it has a price.  Some other factor must have contributed to the lack of a price for the N, L and M models.  Regardless, I imagine the cost of the Lord Lancaster N was somewhere north of $275.  Perhaps it was one of those, "if you have to ask, you probably can't afford it" things.

Regardless of it's price tag, I knew it would be a perfect project for my Christmas post and the 36 sparkling diamonds reminded me of the stars in the sky.

I purchased the watch, complete in it's original box, because it looked to be unworn.  It's not a large watch, about the size of a quarter, but it definitely makes a statement.  It's the only example that I've ever seen.

The basket weave-pattern engraved bezel is similar to the Thinline 2019 offered the same year (for $175).  

The strap is a glossy alligator with a Hamilton buckle.  There's no price tag in the box.

The label in the coffin-style box shows it's age but for the most part this box appears to have been a time capsule.

The case back exhibits zero wear as well.  I had to look very closely to see how to open the case.  Is it a front loader or does the back pop off?  The crystal appears to be glass so I'm pretty sure the case back should lift off.

Success.  The movement is retained in the case back.  Check out the crown on this watch, it has a large, integral stem tube to interface with the case.  It supports the fragile stem over the distance between the movement and the outside of the case.  This would be a very challenging part to replace (if necessary).

Tucked behind the dial is a Hamilton 680 movement.  You don't see this caliber too often but I've seen it in other Lord Lancaster models.  Here's another look at this interesting crown.

This is obviously an ETA movement, as it's very similar to it's larger siblings like the 688.  It is stamped on the main plate as a Hamilton caliber 26 and is based on an ETA 2512 .  It should have a 21600 BPH beat rate - something to look for once I wind it up again.  It ticks a lot faster than the usual 18,000 beat rate.

This movement is about the size of a dime and the parts are tiny.  So far I haven't lost anything and I've taken great care when handling all of the parts - if anything flicked off into the ether, I wouldn't have a replacement.

Well, it took almost 20 minutes but I finally got the train bridge back into place.  All four train wheels must be lined up perfectly in order for the bridge to drop into place.  Getting all the pivots aligned is easier said than done on such a small movement - it's very hard to see inside, much less poke and prod without moving any of the other parts.  I got it back together though, and can breathe easier now that the hard part is done.

The reassembled movement is whirling about with a good motion.  It's beating fast by eye but it should be based on the 21,600 beat rate.

That's not too shabby.  I should be able to do a little fine tuning from here.

Adjusting the beat error changed the beat rate too so it took a while to get both aspects dialed in but I got there eventually.  I'll leave it a smidgeon fast for now.

This beautiful Lord Lancaster N is now dazzling like "Lucy in the Sky".  Cleaning up the case and diamonds really brightened things up.   I suspect Mrs Clause will enjoy finding this under the tree and it will keep a certain watchmaker out of the doghouse for a little while.

I hope you have a wonderful Christmas filled with memories to cherish in the year ahead.  For those of you who have experienced a great loss this year, I wish you peace and grace during this most special of seasons.

Lastly I wish you all a happy new year.  Be good to those around you, especially those most in need.