Christmas

Balloons

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“Sharing what a dear friend once posted:

A professor gave a balloon to every student, who had to inflate it, write their name on it and throw it in the hallway. The professor then mixed all the balloons. The students were then given 5 minutes to find their own balloon. Despite a hectic search, no one found their balloon.

At that point, the professor told the students to take the first balloon that they found and hand it to the person whose name was written on it. Within 5 minutes, everyone had their own balloon.

The professor said to the students: ‘These balloons are like happiness. We will never find it if everyone is looking for their own. But if we care about other people’s happiness, we’ll find ours too'” (William Groce).

I think that’s what the goal of evangelism and missions really is. It’s to help people find true joy and happiness in Jesus. The purpose of this Christian life is to glorify God, love Jesus, and love others. In other words, you get fulfillment when you help others find theirs.

Jesus said it to the effect that if you work to save your own life, you lose it, but if you lose it by giving it away for others, you actually gain it in the end. The best way to rediscover joy is selfless service and helping others find joy.

Easter Monday

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I did something new this year that will most likely be a tradition from now on. I went to see Andrew Peterson on his Resurrection Letters tour on Easter Monday. I’ve been to three of his Behold the Lamb of God concerts, but not one for Easter.

Of course it was amazing. Every part of it pointed to Jesus as the one who overcame death and the grave, the Lamb slain for the sins of the world. It helped me to once again put everything else into perspective in the light of the empty tomb.

I was captivated by the line of a song that mentioned the resurrection of daffodils in spring. That happens every year after all the trees go bare and the ground is barren during winter. Spring really is the perfect picture of the resurrection with all the flowers and buds coming back from a kind of death to full bloom.

I like spring, but I’m not a fan of all the pollen. But even that means that new life is coming, because all that pollen will germinate the seeds that will burst forth in growth and life. I think I can handle a bit of sinus overload if it means seeing the riot of colors that will follow soon after.

But all that points to the one day when those who have died in Christ will rise. All of the creation that was ruined in the fall will be restored and renewed. What seems so stressful and what keeps me up late at night won’t seem important in view of all the new life. In fact, I probably won’t remember what was causing me all of the anxiety.

Just as surely as spring follows winter, so will Jesus return in the same way He departed from the disciples.

“Is He worthy? Is He worthy?
Of all blessing and honor and glory
Is He worthy? Is He worthy?
Is He worthy of this?

He is!
Is He worthy? Is He worthy?
He is!
He is!” (Andrew Peterson/Ben Shive).

Last Room in the Inn of the Season

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I always get a little sad at the end of the Room in the Inn season. I know I will miss seeing all the people until we kick off the new season in November. More than anything, my head is still spinning from how fast these last five months have flown by.

This year I got to teach more in the Bible study. I saw more of the homeless men showing up to hear God’s word taught and really lean in to learning about God’s way of living. Plus, I love seeing the faithfulness of those core volunteers who have been with the ministry for such a long time.

I can’t remember exactly, but I think a friend named Brad Johnson told me about this ministry and invited me to check it out way back in 2012, give or take a year or two. I know it’s been a minute or two ago. That was when I really saw the impact of Room in the Inn to give people a warm place to spend the night and a good meal and a hot shower.

I’ve heard stories of God’s faithfulness in the lives of these men and how they still trust in Jesus in spite of all the hardships of being homeless. I’ve seen homeless men who know the Bible and can quote verses way better than I can.

I see homelessness less and less as a stigma and more of a “there but by the grace of God go I” kind of thing. For some it’s a choice, but for others it’s simply a bad financial break or the loss of a job or an unexpected medical expense.

I remember a book I read that basically said that in a sense we’re all homeless because this world we’re living in isn’t really home. We’re following Jesus as best we can on our way to our real forever home. Room in the Inn is a good reminder of that.

Is Winter Over Yet?

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Some of you know that I am not a fan of winter. I like the part in December where we get Christmas and New Year’s Eve. I even like the first few weeks into January and February, but after that I’m over being cold and having to scrape my car’s windshield in the morning.

I’m the same way with summer. I like summer through the 4th of July and a few weeks past that, but at a point I start longing for fall. Fall is still my absolute favorite, with spring falling behind into second place.

One annoying aspect of Winter is how it pretends to go away, but doesn’t really. Already, there have been a couple of sneak previews of spring, but then in a day or two it gets rainy and cold again. Typically when I take the lining out of my rain jacket, I can predict that the temperatures will plummet again.

I know the groundhog didn’t see his shadow, so theoretically that means spring comes early. But winter isn’t ready to let go. Winter really wants to have the last word. But I think we’d all agree at this point that the song from Frozen applies — winter just needs to “let it go.”

The reason spring isn’t my favorite season is that along with warmer weather come all forms of pollen, mold, and dust that don’t like my sinuses. Or my sinuses don’t like them. I think the feeling is mutual.

Also, all those bugs that have been napping all winter wake up and want to get all up in your business right away. Plus, this year two different kinds of cicadas will be invading the land. I get that insects are an important part of the circle of life, but I wish they could be important somewhere away from me rather than constantly flying in my face all the time.

But every season serves a purpose, as it says in Ecclesiastes. Winter, spring, summer, and fall all have a part in God’s creation. I may not like them all equally, but I can appreciate each one and find the good in each season. Then I can really celebrate fall and bust out all my flannel all over again . . . in about seven months or so.

Funny Socks

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It’s good to have hobbies. Especially these days. You need something to take your mind off of everything that’s going on around the world. Something to occupy your mind beside death and taxes.

My hobby of late is collecting funny socks. I inherited this from my father, who has an impressive array of funny, odd, and just plain different pairs of socks. I only started a few years ago, but I feel like I’m catching up.

I have all kinds of socks, from Bob Ross to bacon to cats (which suits me as a cat person). Whenever I head up to the Gatlinburg area, I pick up a pair that give off a kind of Smokey Mountains vibe. I got several pairs for Christmas one year that were Friends-themed.

I’m always on the hunt for unique and quirky socks that match my personality. I always throw them on my birthday or Christmas wish lists. I also accept all forms of funny socks in lieu of payment. Imagine using funny socks as currency instead of cash.

I’m currently wearing an old pair of Mickey Mouse socks that have Season’s Greetings on them. I am aware that we are past the Christmas season, but they are comfy and no one else sees them but me. I feel like I’m allowed.

Nothing Else Will Do

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I’m excited. My church is weeks away from moving to a permanent campus where everything will be brand new and shiny. I’m reminded of the metaphor Jesus used about believers being a city on a hill, because this new location is literally sitting on a hill over looking the intersection.

I’m super hyped, but I’m also smart enough to know that the honeymoon won’t last. More accurately, I’ve hopefully learned by now through lots of times where I got excited only to see the enthusiasm fade and normalcy fade in.

I can remember all those Christmas gifts that I was thrilled to get. I remember how I felt, but looking back, I can’t remember the specific gifts any more. They lost their luster and faded from my memory. Some of them even ended up in garage sales a few years later.

That’s how it goes with anything I set my heart on this side of eternity. Anything less than God won’t fill that God-shaped yearning in me. Or as C. S. Lewis put it, anything that isn’t eternal is eternally out of date and obsolete.

I look forward to our move-in date in late May. I hope I will always be grateful for this gracious gift on God’s part. But I know that at some point, it will be just a building. More than likely, it will require maintenance and updating and repairs. And at some point, it will be no more.

But what it represents and what our church is all about (and every true Bible-believing church is all about) won’t ever fade or get stolen or moth-eaten or rust. The hope of God-with-us revealed in Jesus will only get better and more wonderful and more glorious over time, past time, and into eternity.

An Advent Prayer from Henri Nouwen

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I realize that we are past Advent. If you follow the ancient ways, then you are aware that this is the third day of Christmas, so it still counts. Also, this time of the kingdom of God being now and not yet feels like an extended Advent season as we wait for Christ’s return:

“O Lord,

How hard it is to accept your way. You come to me as a small, powerless child born away from home. You live for me as a stranger in your own land. You die for me as a criminal outside the walls of the city, rejected by your own people, misunderstood by your friends, and feeling abandoned by your God.

As I prepare to celebrate your birth, I am trying to feel loved, accepted, and at home in this world, and I am trying to overcome the feelings of alienation and separation that continue to assail me. But I wonder now if my deep sense of homelessness does not bring me closer to you than my occasional feelings of belonging. Where do I truly celebrate your birth: in a cozy home or in an unfamiliar house, among welcoming friends or among unknown strangers, with feelings of well-being or with feelings of loneliness?

I do not have to run away from those experiences that are closest to yours. Just as you do not belong to this world, so I do not belong to this world. Every time I feel this way I have an occasion to be grateful and to embrace you better and taste more fully your joy and peace.

Come, Lord Jesus, and be with me where I feel poorest. I trust that this is the place where you will find your manger and bring your light. Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Amen” (Henri Nouwen).

Lessons Learned Slowly

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“‘A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.’

This tiny window when the world falls asleep (or attempts to) on Christmas Eve is my favorite. Anticipation. What a gift!

Yes, we will wake up in the morning and devour our presents. We will rip our wrapping paper to shreds and down our favorite Christmas fare at the table. And then, we will feel it. The air falls flat. The glow from the lights fails to warm us fully. What’s different? Time has betrayed us. Another thing we love just cannot last.

That’s when my favorite Christmas song kicks in. “The thrill of hope” doesn’t expire tomorrow afternoon. We can access it anytime, even on a random Tuesday in March. The promise lingers. The truth remains. His birth was an entry point into time and space. His life and death? A timeless revolution. When will we ever learn that our silly calendars hold no sway.

Let us come together tomorrow with the understanding that the joy that this world affords is always tinged with sorrow, an afterburn that leaves us unsettled. Even still, let us lift our eyes to the eternal and everlasting promise. Our world IS weary, but our ‘thrill of hope’ can never, ever die!” (Jennifer Whitwell Christensen).

I used to love and dread Christmas Day.

I loved seeing all the presents as a kid and feeling all the nostalgic emotions as I got older, but I dreaded the inevitable letdown of Christmas being over for another year. I knew all those festive decorations would be going back into boxes and back into storage for another 11 months.

I dreaded coming to the end of Christmas Day and hearing the words “Christmas is over” when I was not even close to being ready for it to be over. Especially lately, when the whole season seems to fly by as quickly as one of Santa’s sleighs in the night sky.

It’s like the magical part disappears and the humdrum reappears and life goes back to grey after bursting forth in green and silver and gold and a multitude of other colors for a while. No more Christmas for 364 more days.

But the older I get, I realize that what I love most in this world are merely shadows pointing to a truer form I will know in the next. Everything that brings me joy now is a foretaste of a greater joy that no sorrow can steal nor death destroy.

When all the packages are gone and decorations put away, the hope of the season remains. I can truly be like Scrooge and honor Christmas in my heart all the days of the year because Christmas means that God has come near, and that remains true into January and beyond.

That Third Stanza

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If you’re like me and grew up in Baptist churches, you probably remember those old Baptist hymnals. You might remember that we sang a select few out of those hymnals over and over. But if you’re above a certain age, you’ll certainly remember that we always sang the first, second, and fourth stanzas of any hymn. Never the third.

Today, most of us can still remember the words to any of the old standards. But if you want to stump a Baptist, request the third stanza of any hymn. Any. Hymn. It doesn’t matter. The younger ones will resort to Google while the older ones may have to dig up an old hymnal they saved when their churches went to digital and lyrics on a screen.

But every now and then, there’s a gem hiding in the third stanza. A friend posted one such from It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, a very familiar Christmas carol. But the third stanza hit me like it was brand new — probably because it WAS brand new to me:

“O ye, beneath life’s crushing load, whose forms are bending low
Who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow
Look now for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing
O rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing.”

I love the idea of Christmas Day as a time to rest and hear the angels singing. It may not be feasible for some, but I think we should all at least try to make room to sit and ponder the mystery of Christmas — God became a baby, born to a virgin in a barn, who grew up to be the Savior of the world.

Advent, Memories, and a Christmas Story

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I checked one off my list for required holiday movie viewing. I watched a Christmas Story tonight with all its round-faced kid glory. When I came to the part [spoiler alert ahead] where he finally got his long-sought Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas, I knew exactly the joy he felt.

I remember getting that present I had wanted all year. For me, it was a Commodore 64. For those who aren’t old, that’s a personal computer that had as much memory in it as a calculator. You could probably take the combined memory of every Commodore computer ever manufactured and it still wouldn’t add up to the memory in one iPhone. But it was a dream present.

I remember the joy of opening up gifts of Christmas morning to find something I had wanted and waited for the whole year. But sooner or later, the magic faded. The joy that was so strong at first waned. A lot of those presents eventually got sold at garage sales or got donated to Goodwill.

That’s the kind of joy that comes when we make Christmas a one day event where the focus is on opening presents and consuming lots of food. Soon, the giddiness is replaced by a kind of letdown and a sadness of having to wait 364 days until the next Christmas.

But when we focus on the child in the manger born on Christmas Day, the joy carries over. This child became the Savior of the world who doesn’t just live in our hearts one day of the year but all the days of the year.

This kind of joy lasts beyond December 25, even past the 12 days of Christmas. This joy is based on a hope that does not disappoint or decay or die. This hope is the now and the not yet of the kingdom of God. Now we see partly and catch glimpses of God breaking into the world, but one day we will see and know fully and see God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.

We can celebrate the gifts and the food but keep our eyes fixed on the true reason for Christmas, Jesus.