My apologies for such a long hiatus. Life has been full and meaningful since posting three weeks ago. I just needed that “long winter’s nap” to recover from everything. 🙂 But I’ve missed you! Anyway, our Christmas Eve candlelight service was rich and wonderful, not to mention well attended. Samuel and Levi practiced their parts (singing “Silent Night” and “Joy to the World” while standing next to me with lit candles), and they nailed it.
After worship, we watched—at Drew’s request—the first part of Jesus of Nazareth, focusing on the Gospel Infancy Narratives. Peter Ustinov hits it out of the park as Herod the Great. Olivia Hussey (what a name for someone playing the blessed virgin Mary!) is likewise stellar in her role as the mother of Christ. In fact, except for a few duds along the way, this epic film from the mid-80s is very well cast and perfectly set. I have the script almost memorized.
Our Christmas Day celebration was magical, too, especially with the boys growing in their awareness of what the fuss is really all about. After verifying that Jesus was in the manger, and singing “Happy Birthday” to him, we read together from Matthew 2 and then opened our gifts. Christmas dinner followed, and then the kids were off to their next stop.
The next day we traveled to Delaware and spent half a week with Sonya’s siblings and their families. The food and desserts we enjoyed were amazing, but my stomach (thankfully) can’t hold what it used to, and it (unthankfully) lets me know that in various ways! It’s great to be down 65 lbs., but I’d still like to go 15 more. That might require getting back in the pool. We’ll see.
On Sunday, January 4, we hosted an Epiphany party at our house for neighbors, friends, and church members. That, too, was well attended, and it was fun to connect with all who came. I get a little sad when all the festivities are over, but there’s much to look forward to in the coming year. Leading the list is Andrew’s wedding in May. In addition to planning on all the arrangements, he and An are looking for a house close to where they work.
Right now, Sight & Sound is in their “changeover” period, which means long and strange hours as they get ready for their new show (Joshua). It’s a massive effort to coordinate all aspects of a major theater production. The new cast rehearses during the day, which pushes the tech team to have to work second- and third-shift hours. But I’m already getting hints that it’s going to be amazing.
Additionally, their film, A Great Awakening, is set to release in theaters on Easter weekend. Andrew has a small role in it, and Sonya is an extra—a townsperson attending Whitefield’s revival service. With multiple takes for that scene, she says she got saved seven times during the filming. 🙂
Yesterday we celebrated Micah’sbirthday here at our house, complete with a big dinner from Tosco’s. His boys love him to pieces, as do we. He’s such a good husband and father, and he just got elected (unanimously) to be a deacon at his church. He’s also a big cheese where he works, and they love the value he brings to the practice.
My own research and writing efforts have included a massive study on the Trinity, along with my doctoral dissertation on the torn veil in the temple. Both are going well, albeit slower than I would like. The outside teaching and speaking calendar is also coming into view, and it looks like the year ahead will be full and inspirational. I suppose my main prayer request would be for good health, energy, and focus to accomplish it all. There’s a lot of noise in the world right now, and it’s all too easy to be sucked into the vortex of its never-ending brokenness.
Until the warm weather returns, I’ll be inside the house building forts with Samuel and Levi. They recently discovered the magic of creating their little man caves, and I’m here for it.
Be well.
‘Smores are yummy. And messy.Less on the face means more in the belly!My helpers to clear the snow.I wonder where Andrew gets his silliness from.Every year Micah defiles our Nativity scene. This year it was a Crystal Cave sign.Something for everyone.By the chimney with care.Ready to feast.The stuff we shouldn’t eat.Getting ready for the kids to stop by on Christmas morning.The ceramic tree and the gumdrop tree.Lyrics we were singing to my mom when she went to be with Jesus.Two of my gifts opening a gift.An elf from the North Pole.Microphones for the boys.Inside the latest fort.It’s more like a Bedouin tent.More ‘smores.Happy birthday, Micah!
Speaking of mid-80s, here’s a schmaltzy one from that period. Anyway, it’s nice to be back.
It was a sad weekend in our neck of the woods. First, we got news that one of our parishioners, who was recently diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia, will need a second (and more aggressive) round of chemotherapy to reach remission before her care team will do any bone marrow treatments. We feel horrible on her behalf, but we are not without hope.
Second, a parishioner from a previous church had her ashes spread on Saturday. Her husband and sons are in deep grief for this wife and mother who died all too young. “For dust you are, and to dust you will return” (Genesis 3:19). She knew Christ as her Lord and Savior, so here again, we are not without hope.
Finally, we got news yesterday that my sister-in-law had to put her dog Buddy down. We would dog sit him whenever she and her husband went on vacation. Rescued out of a horrible situation nine years ago, Buddy was the kindest, most chill creature we’ve ever known. Yet even here we are not without hope. Apparently, all dogs go to heaven. (Except for Puffy, the demon-possessed Pomeranian.)
All this came on the heels of a hellish news week, one featuring terrorism and death around the world and here at home. Again. (And some of it was done in the name of the twisting of one of the world’s major religions.) Who cannot sympathize with the ancient lament, “How long, O Lord?”
But through all the hard times of life, God cares for his people. That’s why he came to us on that first Christmas. God in Christ didn’t avoid the miseries of this world. Rather, he entered into those miseries, experienced them firsthand, and then swallowed them up. He’s coming again someday to make all things new. In the meantime, we can count on his lavishing love to carry us through the hard times.
Bethany told me a while back that she won’t be able to attend a Christmas Eve service when I’m gone. I said to my precious little girl, “You need to be brave and go light those candles like you always do. The light they hold represents all that gives us hope beyond the grave.”
Mild he lays his glory by, Born that man no more may die, Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth.
Christmas Eve—and all that it represents—is everything. Everything.
Have a good cry if you need to when life is hard. “Blessed are those who mourn,” said Jesus. He should know. Christ had tears streaming down his own cheeks on more than one occasion, too. He was “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.” So you’re in good company if you “lose it” once in a while. It’s o.k. to not be o.k. for a season. After all, it’s only a season. “Joy comes in the morning.”
So, dare to cling to hope. And let Hope himself cling to you. The Christmas manger leads to an empty tomb. It’s still a Christ-kissed earth that we live on, so we are never without hope.
Wednesdays are the best. And today was the best of the best, as we made our annual gingerbread houses with the boys. I say “gingerbread,” but there’s neither ginger nor bread in these constructions. I say “house,” too, but Samuel made a police station, and Levi made the garage for the police station. We also added some snowmen made from marshmallows.
Our kitchen is trashed right now. And it’s the loveliest room in the house. I’ll let the “houses” harden and then take some pics later. But below are a couple snaps of the artists at work. And some old guy I don’t recognize anymore.
You may have heard of that tea called “Sleepytime,” the caffeine-free herbal blend by Celestial Seasonings designed to help folks relax and unwind before bedtime. Well, I must have been drinking a new flavor this week called “Weepytime,” as the tears have begun to flow a little more freely these days. How come?
The temperatures outside are plunging, and the turkey inside awaits a good smoking. The leaves on the ground are rustling around and painting the landscape with perfection. Tthe holly berries out back have erupted, stippling their way across the massive green backdrop that pricks all who come near. That can only mean Thanksgiving is close at hand—the wonderful American holiday in November where we push the pause button on life and celebrate the goodness of God to us. “Count your many blessings, name them ton by ton.”
My sister has been safely resting in Jesus for a year now, and that touches the heart. So does the thought of receiving a new daughter-in-law next year. Samuel and Levi, of course, continue to delight my soul, as do the growth and expanded ministries of our church, which is motivated to follow hard after Jesus. (God gave us a Christian preschool out of the blue this year after a time of fasting and prayer.) There’s been good progress on a massive dissertation, which is turning out to be my life’s work and the best of all I know about God and his ways from Scripture. Food, clothing, shelter, family—the list of things for which I can be thankful is long and lovely.
But the floodgates opened in earnest a few days ago when I unpacked our new Nativity scene. I’ve been wanting to get a replacement for several years now because the one we’ve been using is a bit too antiseptic for my taste. The new one is much more rustic and realistic. It’s earthy and crude, which I like because the first Christmas was really a Christmess.
God came down. All the way down. And landed in a manger—right on top of cow spit and barnyard bacteria. Right on top of King Herod’s royal bombast and bluster, thus inflaming his rage and insecurities. Yes, Jesus came a long way to save us. Two thousand years ago, the eternal Son of God stepped across the stars of the universe to become a zygote in the womb of Mary, a teenage girl from a tiny town no one esteemed. And then he was born like one of us. Did he suck his thumb that first night in the feeding trough?
The Prince of Peace came in peace. Nothing is more disarming and unthreatening than a baby. But how is this possible? This is Almighty God we’re talking about here. The one who fills the universe is now filling his diaper? I still can’t fully get my mind around the incarnation. No worries, though; it has captured my heart and unleashed my imagination, and that’s good enough for me. It reduces me to a puddle every single year, whether I want it to or not. I suspect that’s because I believe it with the totality of my being.
We won’t display the new Nativity scene until the last dish is dried from the Thanksgiving feast. After all, we’re not decoration heretics. But even then, it won’t contain the newborn Christ until Christmas morning. Advent comes first, and we’re taking Samuel and Levi on an Advent-ure of anticipation, helping them learn to wait for the good things God has for them. (That’s a good lesson for big kids, too.) So, every time we walk past the crèche, we look for baby Jesus and say, “He’s not here yet, but he’s coming.”
Yes, he’s coming again, friends. Jesus is coming back to the planet he made and the people he loves. That, too, is a good lesson for big kids. Are you ready?
The local Home Depot has a series of workshops for the little ones.Samuel is focused on the task at hand.Brothers at the Pretzel Hut on Papa-Gaga Day.Levi snuggling in his pizza blanket.Samuel loves his daddy’s hat.Levi loves going down the slide backwards.Samuel’s love of books has begun.Love and cuddles from mama.The boys love the indoor playground at Ephrata Community Church.“And you will go out and leap like calves released from the stall” (Malachi 4:2b).Levi going all the way to the top for the big slide.Playing is hard work.The trees at our church have been stunning this fall.Not one but two “burning bushes” off the church parking lot.The tree-lined walkway out the front of the church.
The past month has been a flurry of hospitality at our house, so I haven’t had a lot of time to write blog posts. From the various Christmas parties and out-of-town guests we’ve hosted, to last week’s church Epiphany party at our place, I’m now ready for that long winter’s nap. Before collapsing, I thought I would share some random photos from the last several weeks. As always, the highlight was standing at the front of the church with the whole crew at the end of the Christmas Eve service, holding candles during “Silent Night,” “King of Kings,” and “Joy to the World.” Samuel took his role very seriously, holding his (battery-operated) candle high for Jesus. Alas, we don’t have a picture of that precious moment. Otherwise, Enjoy!
The Christmas table is set.The renovated kitchen made serving a breeze.Our guests seemed to like the beverage center, complete with the tea collection.By tradition, the boys “camp out” in their living room on Christmas Eve.Levi, our little star.Joyful Samuel getting ready for bed in his new PJs.Uncle Joel playing baseball with the boys in our backyard.Now batting, little Levi.Samuel had to show off his tree fort that Papa made him.Over Christmas, “Buddy” is the name of a dog, not an elf. Boom whackers were a hit for the cousins.Most of the new toys were a hit.Grown-ups playing Mexican Train, always a blast.Bundled up blessings.
We took the boys to Cabella’s to see the animal displays.Samuel and Papa on the footbridge.Little boys love their marbles.Cousins came and went……and posed for the annual picture when they were here.Feasting is fun. And messy.We got the boys a snow rocket, which they love (with or without snow).
You might think someone my age would have made a gingerbread house by now, but somehow that craft has eluded me—until this week. On Wednesday morning, Samuel and I built a little snack house together. We had a blast. I think he ate as many Froot Loops and M&Ms as he applied to the structure. Some of the “construction materials” wound up on his face, to good effect.
Not satisfied to make just a house, Samuel wanted to make a fire house for his firetruck and firefighters. He’s quite delighted with his effort. I’m just delighted that the memory of our time together during the project exceeds our collective artistry. 😊 Seriously, I get a little choked up when I look at it now because we had such a sweet time together. In more ways than one.
When Sonya and I were doing our undergraduate work at West Virginia University, we had the privilege of writing a few songs with Jon Swerens, my college roommate from Ohio. He was a wonderful keyboardist, and he had a Yamaha DX7 synthesizer with a multi-track recorder on it. That device enabled him to orchestrate our songs right there in the dorm.
During the Advent season of our junior year, the three of us were thinking deeply about the mystery of the Incarnation. I was a relatively new believer at the time, but I was eager to study, learn, and “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (2 Peter 3:18). Others who were in the faith before I was, including Jon, taught me a lot about Christian orthodoxy and orthopraxy. Those days in the dorm with Jon were magical, and I was blessed to serve as the best man in his wedding after graduation.
In November-December of our junior year, we wound up writing a Christmas song titled, “Fully Human, Fully God.” It was our best attempt to express all that we understood to be true of the enfleshment of God in Christ in Bethlehem two millennia ago. We tried to make the song as majestic as we could, pushing it to crescendo like most other power ballads of the day, something fit for a king. Something fit for the King.
The lyrics were thick, and the instrumentation was heavy. The message was lofty, and Sonya did it justice with her operatic pipes. Sandi Patty couldn’t have done it better. In the end, it wasn’t a great piece, but we thought it was a respectable effort for a couple of novice songwriters. We gave it B/B+.
The project wore us out. All that study. All that theology. All that writing and re-writing. All that struggle to capture the mystery and majesty of God becoming one of us in the person of Christ. We were physically and emotionally drained—right at the time we were supposed to be gearing up for finals.
One night as we were reflecting on the project, we quickly agreed that we had missed something. We were all a bit unsatisfied with what we had produced, and yet it was hard to put our finger on exactly why. At one point I said something along the lines of: “You know, for all that complex theology and soaring orchestration, we dare not ever miss the simplicity of Christmas—and the humble, childlike response we’re supposed to have to it.”
As it turns out, that was the missing piece. Jon quietly processed our postmortem, stilled himself before the Lord over the next few days, and then started writing again. After sharing with me his nascent thoughts and simple melody, I suggested a few lines and rhymes, along with a title for the new composition. We called it, “Nativity.”
Musically, Jon nailed it. It was so simple. So gentle. So light. So peaceful. Neither the instrumentation nor the theology was heavy or profound, but as Oswald Chambers once said, “Beware of posing as a profound person—God became a baby.” Quite significantly, we were much more satisfied with this second attempt. The first song touched our minds, but the second one touched our hearts.
I wish I still had the original soundtrack, but the recording is lost to history. I can reproduce the basic melody and chord structure on a keyboard, but Jon’s expert orchestration is gone, except in our memories. Consequently, I’ll just share the lyrics below. They came to mind last week while I was playing with Samuel and Levi.
Those beautiful boys make my heart overflow with love and gratitude on a regular basis—not unlike what happens to me when I ponder the Incarnation each December. They remind me of the childlike response we’re supposed to have to “Emmanual,” God with us—even after we’ve long since grown up.
Nativity
Let me be your angel singing loud and clear “Jesus Christ is born” Let me be your shepherd leaving flocks behind Just to see the Lord I owned an inn before I shrugged and closed the door Help me leave the world behind Let me worship you
Let me be your star burning bright and far For all to see Let me be your swaddling clothes Warm your heart in me O let me be that night When all was calm and bright Let me be your manger, Lord Come and rest in me
Much of my time involves trying to paint pictures with words. Such is the nature of sermon writing—and even certain kinds of academic papers. But I also get to help generate flyers, postcards, PowerPoint slides, and other printed or digital material with graphical components. The mix is enjoyable, and I love being able to do both in my line of work.
For the past couple months, I’ve been collaborating with a few artistic folks in our church to create a float for the upcoming holiday parade in our town. It’s a simple Nativity scene design, but it’s one that will rise to about 11 feet off the ground—12 when it’s placed on the trailer.
Jesus said when he is lifted up, he would draw all people to himself, which is why we’re doing this in the first place. We want our neighbors to come to know him. His life-changing love is for everyone. The irony is that the float will be lifting him up at the moment of his shocking descent, which we call “Christmas,” when the second Person of the divine Trinity stepped across the stars of the universe and enfleshed himself to become one of us. It’s the miracle of all miracles, and it is as disarming as it is profound.
The sides of the elevation platform will feature signs with our church’s name and public tagline, “Christ Community Church: A Place to Hope, a Place to Heal.” Walkers will be passing out candy canes to the crowd, with invitations to the Christmas Eve candlelight service, my favorite worship experience of the church year.
Today we started the painting phase. All components have been primed, and tomorrow we will try to add the colors. Our small team of “elves” is having a blast. As we work, I silently pray that Jesus will do some widespread “drawing” on parade day, Saturday, November 30. Atter all, the greatest Christmas present people could ever receive is Jesus himself.
Float creation in the church garage.
Progress Update
My friend Dan is helping with the carpentry.
Totally unrelated: I may need to post a picture of myself (which I hate to do) because I grew a goatee for No-Shave November. Most people are saying I should keep it. Maybe I should take an online poll. 🙂
We returned Sunday night from our trip to Hickory, North Carolina, where we conducted funeral services for my mother-in-law, Lorena Moore. It was good to re-connect with family, even on such a sad occasion. She is the second of 14 siblings to pass away, and most of her brothers and sisters came to bid her farewell. The outpouring of love and gratitude was both healing and refreshing. Here is a copy of the funeral bulletin:
Speaking of funerals, today is the tenth anniversary of the death of Dr. David A. Dorsey, my Old Testament professor who I adored. I may post later today the eulogy I gave at his funeral. I miss him a great deal, as do the rest of us on the seminary faculty. He had a high view of God, a high view of Scripture, and a high view of others, even while he himself was the humblest (and smartest) person I had ever met.
Christmas was a real joy, despite the death in our family. We kept our plans in place, and the immediate family gathered at our house for several days to celebrate. The kids, of course, were adorable. They were a bit overwhelmed at times by the sixteen people and two dogs who assembled under our roof. It’s a fairly large place, but when you have two 2-year-olds, one 1-year-old, and a 5-month-old in the midst of all that activity, you get a meltdown once in a while. That said, they were all fantastic and got along beautifully.
We were heavy on the gifts for our kids and their kids this year, but Sonya and I went light on each other. We decided that our newly renovated kitchen—which was completed two weeks ago—was sufficient. One of these days I may get motivated and post a few pictures of it. We’re thrilled with the results. Next up is converting the “Granny Flat” (as we called it) to a master bedroom. We’re not in a hurry, though. We need to grieve and discern what’s next in our lives before moving any walls or reconfiguring things. A few life changes are coming, and those changes could affect what we do with the space.
My sister-in-law got me the complete set of Harry Potter DVDs for Christmas, which totally took me by surprise. I had watched them online years ago just to see what all the fuss was about, but that was during a time when I was burning the candle at both ends, and I kept falling asleep. It will be good to fill in the gaps of what I missed the first time around. I remember them being quite charming and creative with wonderful cinematography and casting. The magical worlds of Narnia and Middle Earth always trip me into the boundless, and I suspect the same will happen with Hogwarts when I’m alert enough to follow the storyline.
There’s so much more to write, but I’ll leave it here for now.
Seventy years ago last month, 10-year-old Gayla Peevey sang “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas” on The Ed Sullivan Show, and it shot to the top of the charts a month later in December 1953. Peevey was a child star born in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. The Oklahoma City Zoo later acquired a famous baby hippo by the name of Matilda.
The reason I point this out is two-fold. First, When Sonya was 10 years old, she looked exactly like Gayla. Check out the video below and see if you can see a resemblance. Sonya’s voice is higher, sweeter, and less accent-y, but even their musical presences are similar.
Second, Samuel absolutely loves the song, and he breaks into a dance whenever he hears it. He especially likes the version performed by Rend Collective, which has an animated version on YouTube. Below is a video clip of him dancing to the song.
If you’re interested in an update on Gayla Peevey, check out this article in Risen Magazine. She’s still alive, and she’s a believer.
’Tis the season to be grateful. Actually, gratitude is a year-round virtue, isn’t it? But it’s nice to have a special day of focus. Cicero, the Roman philosopher and statesman said, “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all others.” Orrin Woodward, NYT bestselling author on Leadershift, said, “Ingratitude produces pride while gratitude produces humility.” And G. K. Chesterton, the English writer, literary critic, and Christian apologist, said, “When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude.” We have much to be thankful for, even though life has been challenging lately.
One. My mother-in-law continues her steady decline. She’s now on hospice, and we’ve had to learn how to use the equipment necessary to take care of her in (what appears to be) her final months. It’s been a real challenge, and that’s one of the reasons I’ve been so slow to post lately. I really do want to finish sharing those summaries on the book of Daniel. It was such a rich, encouraging, and eye-opening study, and it was hard for me to bring the series to a close. The book is timely as well as tremendous in its own right. I also have a backlog from the “Carved in Stone” series on the Ten Commandments. It just hasn’t been a good year to stay up on these kinds of tasks. I’m pretty sure my life is going to get a significant realignment in the New Year, as my health and sanity will require it.
Two. The boys continue to be a supreme blessing to me in these days. I never realized the joys of love could run this deep, but they do with these two munchkins! They are beyond adorable. When asked what the days of the week are, Samuel says, “Monday, Tuesday, Papa, Thursday….” (Yes, we keep the boys on Wednesday) 😊 That makes me want to melt into a puddle of gooey milk chocolate on a hot gas stove. Below are a few recent pics. We get to host them for Thanksgiving dinner on Wednesday; otherwise, it’s a low-key weekend in our house, which is fine by me. Only after Thanksgiving do we start putting up Christmas decorations. That’s carved in stone, too. 😊 Next week we celebrate Samuel’s second birthday.
Three. Speaking of stove, our kitchen renovation project is nearly complete. We’re just waiting on one final cabinet and the new backsplash. The transformation has been amazing. I can’t remember if I mentioned this before, but by securing and managing the subcontractors ourselves, and helping where we can, we’re saving about $20,000 over the estimate we received a couple years ago when we first started kicking the tires on this idea. Given the horrendous inflation over the past several years, that probably translates to about $25,000 today. Happy dance. Even though I can’t dance.
Four. My yearly Advent sob-fest has begun already. This one took me by surprise. I was doing some worship planning recently and wound up listening to the Tabernacle Choir’s rendition of “Lo! How a Rose E’er Blooming.” For some reason, it hit a tender spot, and the floodgates opened, perhaps because the load is quite heavy right now.
True man, yet very God, From sin and death He saves us, And lightens every load.
I’ll post the song below.
Five. COVID killed our wonderful choir, but I wouldn’t mind seeing it resurrected in due course, especially since our church is getting a new organ this week. (It’s a gently used though lovely Rodgers organ from Ephrata.) A few of us have been crawling around the organ chambers over the past several days, cleaning things out and getting ready for the new installation. We’re all a bit stiff and banged up from that venture, but I’m ecstatic that it will be operable in time for Advent and Christmas. I’ll also post our church’s Advent letter and lineup in case anyone is interested.
Six. My dissertation is trucking along, but it’s taking longer than it should. Even I—yes, I—am starting to drift into the “Let’s get this thing done, already,” mode. It’s just so tedious to write at this level and do a thorough job of engaging all the heavy hitters who’ve written on my topic over the past two millennia. At last count, I’ve gotten up to 19 languages, and that’s more than enough, don’t you think? Still, I love the research. It’s the academic writing (i.e., being precise, anticipating objections, making and defending an argument, documenting everything, etc., etc.) that’s so time consuming. All in good time, though, right?
Seven. By the time I publish this post, it will be November 22, 2023, the 60th anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. I wasn’t born yet when that awful tragedy took place, but I became fascinated by all aspects of it when I was in elementary school. And, yes, I’ve done an awful lot of reading on this subject over the years, keeping up with old details and major developments in the case. I had hoped to write more extensively about it on this anniversary, but that’s just not possible this year. Maybe someday. What do I think happened? Let’s just say, “Things aren’t settled until they’re properly settled.” And this crime was never properly settled. Enough said?
Eight. In the spirit of JFK (who died on the same days as C. S. Lewis and Aldous Huxley), let’s end where we began—gratitude. It was President Kennedy who said, “We must find time to stop and thank the people who make a difference in our lives.” In my case, that would take a whole lot of time. And it would include you, the readers of TNL. Thanks for stopping by.
Oddly enough, today I’m thinking about the death of another larger-than-life personality, Princess Diana. Last night I finished watching episode 3 of the final season of The Crown, so it’s fresh on my mind. And it’s stirring up in me the loathing I already had for the media. I’m sitting here wondering if the paparazzi have learned their lesson, or if they’re still greedy, corrupt, and dangerous.
God has landed! Right in a manger. Right on top of cow spit and barnyard bacteria. Jesus came a long way to save us. Two thousand years ago, the eternal Son of God stepped across the stars of the universe to become a zygote in the womb of the Virgin Mary. And then he was born as one of us. “Manhood and deity in perfect harmony—the Man who is God,” wrote Graham Kendrick.
Christmas, then, is the ultimate display of meekness and majesty in one person. “Glory to God in the highest,” was the angelic response. They easily could have said, “Glory to God in lowest,” too. God is with us now in the person of Jesus Christ. On earth. Magi from the east were among the first to welcome him. Following the natal star, they set out on a journey to find the newborn king.
It was more than curiosity that drew this caravan of dignitaries and polymaths to Jesus. It was God himself. They saw him at work in the sky—speaking their language—and they wanted to go meet with him. Indeed, this passage shows us that God speaks in a variety of ways because he has something important to say. Matthew 2:1-11 reminds us that God makes himself known to us:
generally through creation. (1-2)
specifically through revelation. (3-6)
graciously through intervention. (7-10)
supremely through incarnation. (11a)
Are we listening? The Magi were listening, and that’s why they traveled hundreds of miles across the desert to go see the Christ. They were men of wisdom and learning. They were into math, medicine, astronomy, and human nature. Some of them were superstitious. We get our word “magic” from their title. Call them “wizards” if you like. It was basically the cast of Harry Potter who came to see Jesus. Mark it well: Gentiles (non-Jews) were among the first to welcome and worship the Christ, indicating that God means for Jesus to be the Savior for the whole world!
If the Magi teach us anything, it’s that it’s never enough for us to just be amazed at the wonders of God; we have to set out on the journey and follow him. Our calling is not just to stand in awe of creation but to get to know the Creator. That’s why God’s revelation of himself in Christ demands a response of faith in Christ.He is worthy of our treasure and our trust. Indeed, he wants everyone to come and worship his Son. He wants you to worship his Son. Even if you’re a wizard.
This interactive Christmas Day devotional is followed by a reading of The Tale of Three Trees, a wonderful story for children of all ages.
Headlines are notoriously difficult to write. Even news editors who’ve been in the business for decades can struggle with the task. When you write a headline, you have to summarize the story in a few words, and do so in a way that hooks people and makes them want to keep reading. You have to be clear, concise, and captivating. You have to be journalistically accurate and grammatically correct. You have to be somewhat clever without being overly cute or trite. Above all, you have to be careful that you never communicate an unintended meaning—an oversight that, in the end, can make you look silly as a writer.
After looking at a few bad (and humorous!) headlines, this Christmas Eve message looks at a headline God doesn’t want anybody in the world to miss: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” (1 Timothy 1:15). That’s the message of Christmas, and it’s front-page stuff. It’s a banner story. It’s the best headline ever. It’s clear, concise, and captivating. It’s theologically accurate and doctrinally correct. And it’s still as exciting and relevant as when it was first hot off the press. It certainly was for Paul, who gives us an abbreviated testimony here. He gives us the scoop on himself.
Paul used to be a terrorist. He was the Osama bin Laden of his day. But the headline of Christmas radically changed his life. He writes in sheer wonder at the grace of God that was lavished on him despite his past: “I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life” (1 Timothy 1:16). He’s saying, “Folks, I’m Exhibit A of the grace of God. I deserved judgment; but in Christ I received mercy. I deserved punishment; but in Christ I received pardon. I deserved condemnation; but in Christ I received salvation. Essentially, Paul is saying, “If Christ can save someone like me, then he can save anyone!”
That’s the best headline ever. It doesn’t matter who you are. It doesn’t matter where you’ve been. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. Christmas is for you, too—as long as you recognize you need a Savior. Indeed, Paul reminds us here that Jesus came to save us and show us that no one is beyond the grace of God. No wonder he ends his brief testimony with a doxology, a burst of praise: “Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen” (1 Timothy 1:17). Christmas made him thankful.
How about you? Are you grateful for Christmas—the birth of the Savior? The old Christmas carol puts it so well: “Where meek souls will receive him still the dear Christ enters in.” So, do what Paul says here in this passage: “Believe on him and receive eternal life” (1 Timothy 1:16).
* Ramble Alert! * I tend to get pensive, ponderous, and poetic at the end of the year. So, there’s no need to read further, as you probably have better things to do with your time. I’m just processing my own musings as the calendar gets ready to flip again.
1. I shaved off my December goatee. As I was doing so, I had flashbacks to some hurtful insults I received during my school days. I once was described as having a “beaver chin” and “a weak, unmanly profile.” Because of a “face-plant” fall I had as a young child, I developed an overbite that was only partially corrected by my (terribly uncomfortable) retainer. My classmates in fifth through seventh grade were particularly cruel about how I looked. Only one kind girl out of hundreds my age thought it made me look cute. Even when I was at peak physical condition in college, a photographer doing a local hairstylist’s spread featuring a few of us chiseled swimmers kept telling me to grind my teeth or somehow produce a stronger jawline since mine was too wimpy. (Why, then, did you ask me to be in the picture in the first place?) The good news is that these insults no longer sting like they used to. But I do wonder sometimes why I remember them so vividly. Maybe it’s because they led to so many insecurities that would later cause me to overcompensate in other areas of life (e.g., athletics, academics, etc.). Whatever the psychology behind it, it’s a good reminder for us to speak kindly to one another, especially those who are in their early formative years. Let’s not allow our careless words to do unnecessary damage. Lord knows, I’ve had to repent of many unkind things I’ve said over the years.
2. It’s always been our family tradition for me to read the story of the Magi from Matthew 2:1-12 on Christmas morning before we open our gifts. It’s our way of trying to keep the focus on what the day is all about. Problem is, my family always takes bets as to how far I’ll get in the passage before getting too choked up to read any further. (The Incarnation never gets old, and it wrecks me every time I ponder it.) I knew in advance that there was no way I’d be able to get past the first verse with a newborn in the room this year. Samuel wasn’t even a month old on Christmas Day, so it just wasn’t going to work for me to read the text without brutzing. So, this year I carved up the passage and gave each of us a few verses to read. It went well, and everyone enjoyed doing it that way. I think we’ll do something similar in future years. No more betting against me! 🙂
P.S., I got to take SamJam on a walk in his stroller yesterday. He was curious about the world around him, and I was overwhelmed with delight in watching him! (Yes, we got him the hat. Totally appropriate, right?!)
3. The 20th-century British novelist and poet Robert Graves once said, “There is no such thing as good writing, only good rewriting.” That’s why I find the process to be both exhilarating and exhausting. I’m seldom happy with what I’ve written. “It can always be better, sharper, clearer,” I tell myself. And maybe this perfectionistic tendency is rooted in what I (imperfectly) wrote above in #1. Either way, it’s a great hinderance to finishing an academic dissertation. We’re trained to anticipate objections and opposing views as we write, and the “lawyerly disposition” in me always wants to create an unassailable argument. That’s not humanly possible, so please pray that I get over myself and write something defensible, even if not incontrovertible. The best dissertation is a done dissertation. Thanks!
4. I recently finished my latest binge, How to Get Away with Murder. The story arc spanning six seasons was engaging and unpredictable. The progressively expanding flashbacks—while confusing at first—were intriguing and captivating as the episodes unfolded, serving as teasers to keep watching and assemble the pieces yourself. The screen writing was sharp overall, and the plot twists were uncliched. Moreover, the casting was brilliant, the acting was superb, and the emotional impact was notable. As was the case with Scandal, the scene cuts were a bit hyperactive at times, though they were much more manageable. Ironically, the hyper-talented Kerry Washington from Scandal made a few appearances in Murder, which was a welcome addition. Aja Naomi King made a strong case for being the new generation’s Kerry Washington. Her portrayal of Michaela Pratt, an ambitious and overly confident lawyer in the making, was one of several acting standouts in the production. It will be fun to watch Aja’s career unfold. Unfortunately, some of the moral values promoted in the series were disappointing, and part of the socio-political agenda was executed in selective and prejudicial ways. But that’s what Hollywood does these days in their “ends-justifies-the-means” approach to progress. Create a straw man and then give yourself high fives for ripping it apart with ease. We tend to write fiction to suit ourselves because it’s much easier than honest debate. The West Wing and other shows of that ilk often follow the same playbook. In an attempt to get back to cinematic sanity, where I don’t have to keep fast forwarding past the raunchy parts, I may return to Endeavor next (since I’m a Morse fan, and the series was filmed in charming Oxford), but there will be no more guilty pleasures until the dissertation is finished.
5. C. S. Lewis described pre-Aslan Narnia as “always winter but never Christmas.” That is, a fallen world without a Savior is devoid of hope. It’s just an icy darkness that shatters the soul and renders people zombie-like until they breathe their last. But because there is a Savior in this world—one whose magnificent mane was shaved in humiliation on our behalf, only to grow back in resurrection glory after the stone table cracked—eternal life can now be described as “always Christmas but never winter.” Believers bend but never break in a world where Aslan is on the move. Here is a poem about how this particular image helped me through a difficult time in my life. It’s not great art by any means, but it’s an honest portrayal of what I was feeling at the time. Here’s the context:
On Saturday, July 1, 2000, my father-in-law, Rev. Keith Moore, resigned as pastor of Baker Heights Baptist Church in Martinsburg, West Virginia. He was only six months away from retirement, but he could no longer shepherd the flock. The awful effects of radiation and chemotherapy had rendered him virtually lifeless, nearly brining him to the point of death in order to spare him from it. It was a painful time for the whole family. That same day, Pastor Keith got a haircut. It turned out to be his last one. The clippers came out and the hair came off. “Better to do it myself,” he said, “than to let the chemo do it.” I was present for that awful event, and when it happened, I sobbed. I was no stranger to the humming of the electric razor. In the 1980s I would often shave my head as a high school or collegiate swimmer to prepare for the big meet at the end of the season. But those silly haircuts had a purpose. They helped me swim faster. But this haircut was nothing but shame and humiliation. It had no purpose at all. Or did it?
Razed to Life
Before the chemo waged its war on blood and scalp alike, The ravenous razor snarled away, leaving a head full of spikes. In the other room I lost my nerve and filed a complaint with the Lord; Comforting words I had given to others suddenly felt like a sword.
“Why, dear Lord, this man of God, who faithfully fed your sheep— “The same day losing his pulpit and hair, craving nothing but sleep?” “He’s frail and weak, Lord, wracked in pain; what does the future hold?” “Where is your power, God; where is your love, if I may be so bold?”
And then in my gloom a beacon of hope fastened upon my soul: “Aslan’s razor,” came the reply. “That’s all you need to know.” Aslan’s razor—what could that mean? Where have I heard that before? A gem by Lewis, for children, and me, where a Lion loses his roar.
Where they crop off his mane and stab at his heart and leave him for dead in the mud; Naked, ashamed, and lonely he dies with scoundrels mocking his blood. But why was he captured and horribly killed, and strapped to a table of stone? The witch said, “For justice,” but Aslan, “For love—for a treason not my own.”
Well, the world, like Narnia, has children around with questioning tears in their eyes, Yet the world, like Narnia, has a table that cracked, and a Lion who knows how to rise. So the death of death in the death of Christ laces every trial with hope, And the empty tomb declares to us all that the grave will not be our home.
While some use pain to bludgeon our souls and scratch away at our faith, God in his infinite wisdom and love uses faith to scratch at our pain. So even today a Lion is heard whenever the gospel is shared, Telling the story of Christ and his love, showing that God really cares.
“Come!” says the Lion to children of faith. “Ride on my back, and we’ll soar.” “Come!” says the Lord to children of grace. “Enter my heavenly door.” “I have a surprise especially for you: I’ve built you a grand destination.” “A land of delight with no more tears—and evil’s humiliation.”
“Look at my mane! Touch it again! Only one scar remains; “I keep it around to let people know that death has lost its claims.” “And look at his hair, flowing again; the razor bows to its glory.” “Yes, I let you feel pain, but only on earth, to maximize your eternal story.”
6. Here’s a good word from Jon Acuff to end the year. Let it be a micro-motivation for us all: “If you picked up any bitterness this year, don’t miss your chance to put it down this week. Don’t carry last year’s rocks into next year’s garden. Don’t paint next year’s canvas with last year’s colors. Don’t write next year’s story with last year’s words. You might need to choose it 100 times, but leaving bitterness behind is always worth it.” Amen.
7. Two albums today for me to finish out the year in mellow reflection: John Michael Talbot’sSimple Hearts and Enya’sShepherd Moons. “God Alone is Enough” in the former is a great place to park the soul (as Teresa of Avila captured the best and wisest approach to life), and “Marble Halls” in the latter is a fun place to unleash the imagination (as there’s so much more to this life than riches and material wealth). Love is everything. So, perchance to dream. Also appropriate today is Enya’s “My My! Time Flies!” though we’re way past 2010. 🙂
Stay safe tonight, and Lord willing, we’ll see you in 2022.
Edit: Nicole Kidman and Javier Bardem are outstanding as Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz in Becoming the Ricardos. Watched it last night on Amazon Prime after our company departed and the house got quiet for the first time in a long time.
I’m not sure how Santa got this thing down the chimney, but I’m glad he did. I’ve never had a power recliner before, but this is a high-end Bassett that’s super sturdy and comfy.
This wonderful piece of furniture was for yours truly. “Hers truly” got a silver Bach Stradivarius trumpet. This top-tier instrument is stunning and is supposed to be played only with gloves or a hand cloth.
Both are kingdom tools. One is for reading and writing. The other is for praising and worshiping.
As nice as these things are, the best Christmas present this year (besides Jesus) was the new addition to the family. Samuel didn’t make a peep during the entire Christmas Eve service—even with our brass team belting it out during the opening carols. And, yes, he slept through the sermon! 🙂
Today I got to babysit him for a couple hours while Bethany went to a doctor’s appointment. What a blessing that he lives less than 15 minutes away. I’m utterly smitten with this little munchkin and have to share a few snaps from the past few days.
