A Christmas Confession

I have a confession.

I am a Christmas scrooge. While hearing that first Christmas song on the radio brings a smile and joy into the hearts of some, it has the polar (ha) opposite effect on me. If I wasn’t married to a wonderful woman who loves Christmas, and if I didn’t have kids that would be disappointed, I wouldn’t have a Christmas tree, I wouldn’t have lights, and “Christmas music” would only tickle my ears between the dates of December 24^th and 25^th.

But that’s all superficial. When I see the rampant consumerism that is “Christmas” it kind of makes me sick—especially when I take time to recognize that I’ve bought into it myself.

And then there is my utter disgust and frustration with certain groups (such as the AFA) that like to rally well-meaning people around a misguided cause under the banner of Christianity, and then asks for donations to help them continue their “Godly” crusade. I’m sorry (not really), but using the name of Jesus to market products should be what is offensive, not someone’s use of the word “holiday”. And if I really want people to know who Jesus is, I’m not going to wear pins or put bumper stickers on my car that tell people they are evil or stupid because they are trying to deny Jesus by writing ‘X-mas’ on their ‘holiday’ cards (by the way, the use of the letter ‘X’ to reference Christ goes back to at least the 16^th century).

Lately, I’ve even become annoyed with the way the nativity is most often represented…

But that is not my confession. Many people could have told you I’m a scrooge, and my wife certainly could tell you about my annoyance and frustration with the things Christians seem to get caught up in around Christmas.

My confession is that I have let all of this become a distraction away from what really matters in remembering the birth of the Christ, Jesus.

More about the nativity. I don’t know why, but I had never really taken time to consider the reality of the whole of the nativity scenario before. Let me describe it to you in a way that recently occurred to me: Imagine walking/riding a donkey for 90 miles on dusty roads (9 months pregnant, no less), only to find out there was no decently clean room for you to rest in when you arrive. Instead, you find yourself in a dirty stable, smelling of animals and manure—and then you start to give birth. For those who have experienced it, you know that process involved in giving birth is not a neat and clean one even when you are in a clean and sterile hospital environment—I don’t think I will need to elaborate, but you can think about that for a moment…

And then a bunch of shepherds show up and there’s no one to tell them it’s not visitation time. Now, I know there was probably some clean-up done, but they came within the day Jesus was born, and it was still a stable. What I’m getting at is that it is not a picture that would inspire me to write poetry and beautiful music. Actually, I would probably feel a little uncomfortable and sad.

However, there is something about it that brings amazing, unspeakable joy, and that is hard even now to grasp.

God.

God Almighty, the creator of the universe, the mustard seed, and of the human race is there. He humbled himself to not just show up in the world in the image of the created, but to enter into the world the same way every single other human being has entered into the world—and in a situation that I can look at and honestly call disgusting.

THAT makes me want to sing “JOY to the World!”

Most all of Jesus’ ministry was done among the “least of these”; the outcasts, the crippled and diseased. The majority of those in prominent positions were opposed and turned off by Jesus. His entry into the world was no different: born in a dirty, stinky animal stable and celebrated by shepherds (pretty low on the societal totem-pole)…then when some of apparent prominence did show up a few years later (the wise men), they were foreigners, representing ungodly peoples. Nothing about Jesus appears to be worth celebrating, and certainly his position is not one that would naturally lead many people to admire, let alone worship him.

But yet, here is our God. The one by whom and for whom all things were created (Colossians 1), the great “I am” (John 8:58), the fullness of God in bodily form (Colossians 2:9). He not only came to minister to the “least,” he humbly came among least, proclaiming with authority freedom and reconciliation (Luke 4:18-21), and offering the right to become children of God (John 1).

Is that what the Shepherds saw when they entered the filth of the stable and gazed upon the infant only a few hours old? In as much as they could understand, I think so. They did have the benefit of a host of angels appearing to them immediately prior.

Is that what I see when the kids get dressed up in cute little angel and sheep costumes, and a shy blonde-haired girl holds a cabbage patch doll in a cardboard manger?

It’s sad that the birth of Jesus is relegated as a topic of remembrance for a single time of year (try telling the story in July and see how many people ask you why you’re talking about Christmas in July), but the reality of God incarnate is a joyous realization any time of the year.

So, in light of this confession, my repentance (change in mind & direction) is this: to be less scrooge-like and less focused on the things that distract from the Good News, and to allow myself to be overwhelmed by the beauty and mystery of God entering the world in such a low state to reveal the fullness of himself to all people.

Praise God!

New "Preacher"

So, the university campus on which I work has a few individuals that like to come stand outside of the student union and "preach" to anyone who will pay attention (and sometimes degrading those who walk by without giving their attention). There is one person in particular who is a regular, and whom becomes somewhat of a sideshow as students gather around to hear some of the ridiculous twisting of scripture he spews.

Today, there is a new "preacher," one I've never seen or heard before. So far, in the 15 minutes I've listened to him, he hasn't wondered from scripture, which is good. However, I can't help but wonder (based on what he has been sharing) if he (like many such "preachers") does not do what he does so much out of hearing a calling from God, and having a love for the students, as he does to somehow "sure up" his salvation. In other words, he preaches not for God, or for the sake of those whom might here, but for himself, reasoning that by doing so he is fulfilling some directive of God and putting himself in better standing.

Such "preaching" does not benefit the kingdom of God, or glorify God, but rather distracts and bears false witness.

This time he had to cease, because the campus police came and apparently he does not have the proper permission. But I'll have to pay close attention when and if he returns.

Why My Kids Will Go Public School

You can read a very well-written article here:

http://burnsidewriters.com/2009/09/17/why-public-school-is-the-bomb/

Some of my favorite quotes/points:

"Christians, sadly, tend to believe more in the negative power of sin than they do in the redemptive power of Christ in the lives of His people."

"does the “bad apple” theory really hold sway over salt-n-light? And if so, is avoidance and disengagement the answer? It points to fatalism and a disbelief that Christ really changes anything in individual lives or society."

"But it’s not just about the kids. Adults—teachers, faculty, and parents—have to be an integral part of kingdom-building in public schools...we are trying to find practical ways to reach out to these children and their families. Knowing them, and sharing life together, is the crucial first step."

Thanks for sharing the article, Derek (you know who you are)!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

My wife and I have talked about these things for a while. Not just the school issue, but what it means to really be missional and how it involves our children, our family.

The college ministry I work with hands out burgers and hot dogs outside our building on busy Friday nights. We're on the main bar street in town, and by night I mean midnight until 3am or later. We've talked about when it will be appropriate for me to bring my daughter out to 1. observe and 2. help serve. Some people think this is a crazy, bad idea.

For a long time my understanding of God's grace, love and forgiveness was pretty shallow. "God, forgive me for not being good at quiet times," or "God's grace covers me when I've been lustful or watched dirty movies."

But no, God's grace is amazing. It changes people. Really. It CHANGES people. God's forgiveness isn't just for when we slip up or backslide between Sundays...it brings us back from the depths of emptiness and despair, from death to life. These are extremes. It's POWERFUL.

My kids need to know this.

People might worry about my kids seeing drunk, cussing, obnoxious, lewd college students (this is a stereotype...even most drunk students are nice and thankful for free food). But I think about this: they will know many--too many--kids their own age who go home to this life everyday.

Looking back, I know I did.

How do their friends, who live this life, view reality...God? How will my kids be able to understand and relate to their friends who have a completely different idea of what reality is and what life is all about? What if my kid's understanding of God is too small to meet the needs of their friends? TOO SMALL, really?

God is BIG! I want my kids to know God as He is. A BIG God, capable of loving the hardest to love. Able to change lives...really...change...lives.

But then, of course, I have to believe this, too. I have to live it out. I have to be willing to follow Jesus to the tax collector's house for lunch, agree with him in affirming the prostitute in the midst of the pious, and lay my hand on the shoulder of the leper yet to be healed.

Taking my kids to serve food to college students out late on a Friday night, or sending them to public school--these things are really not very good ideas. Unless, of course, they go armed with the Spirit of God.

So, this is my prayer: God, use me. Help me to follow where you lead. Reveal yourself to me, and to my family. Allow us to be witness to the power you have to change lives, to bring life out of death. Fill us up, and send us out.*

*just a note: I was singing Tim Hughes' "God of Justice" in my head when I was writing this. He penned the line "fill us up and send us out"--which is so appropriate

Oh, and if you haven't watched it yet, go back to my earlier post and watch the video of Frances Chan.

It was late when I wrote this, I hope it makes sense and is true to the heart of God.