“A prison cell, in which one waits, hopes – and is completely dependent on the fact that the door of freedom has to be opened from the outside, is not a bad picture of Advent” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, God Is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas).

My pastor said that Christianity isn’t that you can get to God but that God in Jesus has come to you. 

Advent is waiting on that promised Messiah, confessing that we’re not capable on our own of making our way to God but that we’re in desperate need of a Savior.

When we couldn’t find a way out of the mess we’d made of ourselves and our lives, God in Jesus came to us, loved us in our mess and rescued us from that mess. 

“So if you believe deep in your heart that God raised Jesus from the pit of death and if you voice your allegiance by confessing the truth that ‘Jesus is Lord,’ then you will be saved! Belief begins in the heart and leads to a life that’s right with God; confession departs from our lips and brings eternal salvation” (Romans 10:9-10, The Voice).

That is the Gospel.

Before you let the madness of the commercialism of the season overtake you, just breathe deeply and relax. Remember this is the season that celebrates when God became small– small enough to see you at your weakest and lowliest and most insignificant.

It’s humbling to think that of all the forms God could have chosen to reveal His incarnation to humanity was in the form of a newborn baby. Not as a learned philosopher or as a strong champion or a fearless leader, but as a helpless infant.

All for the love of you and me.

Since it’s late and I’m pooped, here’s a picture of Peanut, my little tortie. She’s looking and feeling as relaxed as I hope to be shortly.

There’s something peaceful and restful about a sleeping cat or dog. Or any sleeping animal for that matter.

That’s why most everyone should have a pet. Excluding those who aren’t committed to taking care of one through old age. But that’s another topic for another day.

This is one little tortie who’s feeling right at home.

I’m back to where I first started my Doctor Who adventure. Technically, this is the tenth doctor, for those at home who are keeping score.

Long before . . . well, actually months before I began my Classic Doctor Who quest, I tentatively put my foot in the kiddie pool and check out Series 2 from my local library. Not to say that the new stuff is strictly kiddie stuff, but I started off with perhaps the most beloved of the doctors in the new era — David Tennant, with my favorite of the new companions, Billie Piper.

I hadn’t noticed before, but David’s doctor at times can summon forth the righteous indignation of Tom Baker’s incarnation. He can also recall shades of Peter Davison’s doctor at times.

My plan is to catch up at some point to the current series featuring the first ever female doctor, Jodie Whittaker. That may take a little while, but it will be worth it.

“IT WAS THOUSANDS of years ago and thousands of miles away, but it is a visit that for all our madness and cynicism and indifference and despair we have never quite forgotten. The oxen in their stalls. The smell of hay. The shepherds standing around. That child and that place are somehow the closest of all close encounters, the one we are closest to, the one that brings us closest to something that cannot be told in any other way. This story that faith tells in the fairytale language of faith is not just that God is, which God knows is a lot to swallow in itself much of the time, but that God comes. Comes here. ‘In great humility.’ There is nothing much humbler than being born: naked, totally helpless, not much bigger than a loaf of bread. But with righteousness and faithfulness the girdle of his loins. And to us came. For us came. Is it true—not just the way fairytales are true but as the truest of all truths? Almighty God, are you true?

When you are standing up to your neck in darkness, how do you say yes to that question? You say yes, I suppose, the only way faith can ever say it if it is honest with itself. You say yes with your fingers crossed. You say it with your heart in your mouth. Maybe that way we can say yes. He visited us.

The world has never been quite the same since. It is still a very dark world, in some ways darker than ever before, but the darkness is different because he keeps getting born into it. The threat of holocaust. The threat of poisoning the earth and sea and air. The threat of our own deaths. The broken marriage. The child in pain. The lost chance. Anyone who has ever known him has known him perhaps better in the dark than anywhere else because it is in the dark where he seems to visit most often” (Frederick Buechner, The Clown in the Belfry).

“Dear God,
Speak gently in my silence.
When the loud outer noises of my surroundings
and the loud inner noises of my fears
keep pulling me away from you,
help me to trust that you are still there
even when I am unable to hear you.
Give me ears to listen to your small, soft voice saying:
“Come to me, you who are overburdened,
and I will give you rest…
for I am gentle and humble of heart.”
Let that loving voice be my guide.
Amen” (Henri Nouwen).

“The command Be ye perfect is not idealistic gas. Nor is it a command to do the impossible. He is going to make us into creatures that can obey that command. He said (in the Bible) that we were ‘gods’ and He is going to make good His words. If we let Him—for we can prevent Him, if we choose—He will make the feeblest and filthiest of us into a god or goddess, a dazzling, radiant, immortal creature, pulsating all through with such energy and joy and wisdom and love as we cannot now imagine, a bright stainless mirror which reflects back to God perfectly (though, of course, on a smaller scale) His own boundless power and delight and goodness. The process will be long and in parts very painful; but that is what we are in for. Nothing less. He meant what He said” (C. S. Lewis).

Maybe that’s what most of us really need — just a little bit of love.

It’s something to remember when that driver cuts in front of you in traffic or when the person on the other end of the phone is less than pleasant.

The holiday season often brings out the best — and worst– in all of us. Each of us will probably have moments when we’re less than our best selves, so it’s important to extend grace to others when they falter.

Above all, don’t forget that God in Jesus laid down His life for us while we were still sinners and enemies and a long way off from where we should have been.

Also don’t forget in the midst of this season to take a little care of yourself. Give yourself a little room for peace and quiet, even if it’s early in the morning or late at night.

The Advent season is a reminder that a little bit of love goes a long, long way.

This is what you do when you drive an old Jeep. You decorate it, of course.

The antlers and red nose came courtesy of the clearance section of Publix.

The Jeep is courtesy of 21 years of driving (and an engine that is still going strong after almost 346,000 miles).

I bet you’re not gonna see many brand-new Mercedes or Lexus or BMW cars sporting festive holidays.

But when you drive vintage, you do what you want.

You’re welcome.

“Do all things without complaining or bickering with each other, so you will be found innocent and blameless; you are God’s children called to live without a single stain on your reputations among this perverted and crooked generation. Shine like stars across the land” (Philippians 2:14-15, The Voice).

The challenge is to go 7 whole days without complaining or grumbling.

That was the gauntlet thrown down at Kairos tonight by Chris Brooks, and I’m accepting the challenge.

Basically, when you complain constantly, you rewire your brain toward negativity and open yourself up to a whole host of physical ailments. But when you choose the opposite– gratitude– it brings joy and healing.

Our natural inclination, or our default setting, is to grumble and complain when things go awry. But God calls us to a better way, a more satisfying way.

Are you with me on this? No complaining or grumbling until at least next Tuesday at 10:15 pm.

If you or I mess up, all is not lost. Just give yourself a little grace and start again. Maybe this little test will lead to a change of habit that leads to a change of attitude. Maybe it will help people see where real joys can be found.

I’m game. Are you?