Candy Taxes & Tithes

When my children were younger and spent Halloween racing from house to house toting a pillow case they would come home with as much as six pounds of candy. It would all be dumped in a pile on the living room floor; one pile for my son and one for my daughter. They would stare at the loot for a moment, taking it all in like Daffy Duck staring at a room full of gold coins. And then they would start sorting through the pile, looking for their favorites and deciding which three or four pieces (their allotted amount for Halloween night) they would devour before cleaning up and heading off to bed with sugar-fueled dreams.

That's when Amy or I would remind them of the Candy Tax, the price that was paid to the heads-of-household in thanksgiving for letting them live under our roof, eat our food and participate in the annual costume-and-candy-grab festival of Halloween. This wasn't mean. This was a life lesson. "Soon you will be paying real taxes to the government," we told them. And the Bible tells us to tithe our earnings and give 10% to God. We didn't want the poor darlings to think that they could keep 100% of what they had received. Someone is always going to lay claim to part of what you think is yours. We simply wanted to be good parents and teach them about life.

(Disclaimer: Honestly this practice had way more to do with the fact that free candy tastes better than purchased candy. And when I started sporting a beard and passed the 200 lbs. mark, dressing up and asking neighbors for candy (even though they were already handing it out for free) seemed a bit creepy. The whole "teach my kids a lesson" gambit didn't fool anyone. They knew what was up.)

My kids learned to keep us away from their piles so we couldn't get a look at what they had acquired. They would come to us with offerings of candy in hopes of appeasing our stringent demands. But a third-grade sized hand carrying two waxy chocolate balls wrapped in foil that looks like an eye ball, a cellophane packet of off-brand Sweet-Tarts with candy coating and three snot-green Jolly Ranchers doesn't cut it. I saw the people down the street drop two Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in your bag! I can see that Heath Bar on top of your pile from here! And no, I don't want a Dum Dum sucker of any flavor. They remind me of getting shots at the doctor's office.

Six weeks later we would find remnants of the Halloween stash buried in their closets. We would ask if they wanted anymore of the candy. They would tell us no. I would take it and hand it out as game prizes in Confirmation Class.

I'm afraid this Halloween ritual of ours reveals an awful lot about human behavior. It shines a light on our greed and our fear of having things taken away from us as well as how fast we become bored by things that once held an immense appeal to us.

I'm also afraid that my behavior reflects the reality of some of the greater institutions in our culture; the government, corporations and the church. Each of these entities feels entitled to a portion of what we have received. Each one justifies its entitlement by providing something in exchange for our taxes, patronage or tithes. If that was the whole truth of the matter I would have no problem with it. But reckless government spending, outrageous corporate profits (if you are making billions in profits, perhaps you could help the world economy by lowering your prices) and church foundations and endowments reveal a greater concern for the institutions than the people they serve.

The government needs taxes to serve the needs of the republic. Corporations need profits to be able to supply people with goods and services. Churches need tithes to do the work of the church. But when these institutions lose sight of who they are serving and the fact that they exist to serve they simply scare away those who can help them the most.

I wish I had been more thankful and encouraged my children's generosity when it arose naturally. Despite my blunders they are pretty generous people. I plan on paying back all those candy taxes and tithes with interest. But, like my parents, I'm not going to give it to my kids. I'm going to give it my grandchildren.

Revoking My Man Card

We bought a new vehicle yesterday. A pick-up. The first brand-new pick-up and only our second brand-new vehicle in 25 years of marriage. It doesn't have all the bells and whistles but it's got a lot of them. And it fits in the garage with two whole inches to spare!

We did some shopping and test driving last week. A young woman who had recently graduated from college and had been hired as a sales consultant answered questions and told us about the features. She did a great job. The bonus was that she hadn't learned any of the high-pressure sales crap and was genuinely embarrassed when her sales manager insisted that she inquire what it would take to sell us one that day.

My family genetics won't allow me to make that kind of purchase decision. I won't even buy underwear without thinking about it for a few days. So we found a price that we were both okay with, asked if they could get it in a different color than the arrest-me red they had in stock and left. After sleeping on it and with a few more conversations we decided to get it. We called, put down a deposit, and were told it would be available on Monday.

Monday evening we arrived at the dealership and another sales consultant who we had worked with in the past joined the sales consultant we had been working with most recently. Before we signed any papers or handed over a check we were given an opportunity to look over the vehicle we were buying. I walked around the truck, looking for dents or scratches. We climbed inside and turned knobs and clicked switches. Then the sales guy asked, Do you want to see under the hood?"

Without hesitation I replied, "Nope."

As the sales guy went on talking about features I had this creepy sensation that some disembodied spirit was reaching into my wallet and revoking my Man Card. Had I really just declined the opportunity to look under the hood? In that refusal to stand and look at an engine where the only things I could identify were the battery and the windshield wiper fluid reservoir, did I really just admit in front of my wife and the sales guy that I have no clue  about the really important part of the vehicle?

I used to be able to do a basic tune-up on a car. I learned on a station wagon in which I could actually sit in the engine compartment while I worked. But the days of looking at an engine, giving a listen and being able to spot problems passed long ago. Nowadays mechanics connect a computer to the engine to see what is wrong. Somewhere deep inside I understood that standing in front of an open hood and staring at a jumble of wires and covered mechanical processes would just be a waste of time.

So take my Man Card if you have to. I'll be too busy streaming wireless music from my phone and talking on the hands-free entertainment system to care.

Social Media Communities

I've been thinking a lot lately about the way we use social media like Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr and others. These sites are evolving into new ways of being in community with other people. And for all of the negative press they get there are a lot of positive aspects beginning to emerge.

The other day a friend told me that he has stopped using Facebook because it is a black hole where time disappears. Many of us have had that experience where we log on and bury our heads in our computer screens only to find that an hour or more has slipped by when it felt like 10 minutes. We look up and see that we are alone in room or office and there is that sense that we have been duped. A lonely feeling overwhelms us when just a moment before we felt so connected.

A new study by the Pew Internet and American Life Project as reported by Mashable indicates that we are using Social Media platforms to strengthen our ties to one another away from our computers and mobile devices. The report claims that "Facebook users tend to get more emotional support, companionship as well as instrumental aid (meaning they’re more likely to get help when sick, etc)."


There is no doubt that online communities can cause problems or be places where people are endangered but we can say that about every community, online or otherwise. These new online communities will be what we make of them and it appears that we would like them to be for good.


What is your experience with social media sites? Do you give and receive instrumental aid? Do you give or receive support from people you know? Have you had a primarily positive or negative experience?

On Freedom

I woke today to the news that Osama Bib Laden was killed in a covert military operation over the weekend in Pakistan. This was the only story on the morning talk shows. My Facebook feed is filled with expressions of relief at his death and pride in the ability of the United States to accomplish the mission and bring him to justice.

It is big news to be sure. The events of September 11, 2001 wounded the heart of my country and, as much as we don't like to admit it, brought fear to the surface of our lives. My heart grieved with those who lost loved ones in the attacks and I led prayers for God to be with them and bring them comfort. I quietly cheered when we, as a nation, struck out to eradicate terrorism and vowed to make the world a safe and free place.

Almost ten years later I do not find myself cheering the news of Bin Laden's death.  As a Christian I try to imagine how Jesus would greet this news. I struggle to think of the man who commands us to forgive our enemies and teaches us to turn the other cheek pumping his fist into the air with a flash mob and chanting, "USA! USA!"

Revenge can feel like justice. I've understood that since I was a small child. But revenge does not equal justice. The Gospels are clear about that point. In fact, that is exactly the point of the Gospels. God's justice is found in forgiveness. That near-incomprehensible concept is lived out in the Easter story. If revenge were the same as justice God would have needed to get even with those who betrayed, denied, abandoned and killed Jesus. Instead, Jesus is raised from the dead and his life and ministry continue.

I understand that there is a cost to be paid for freedom. To the men and women who have worked so hard and have given their lives for my political freedom I say thank you and congratulations.

To those who call themselves Christian, a gentle reminder: It is not Bin Laden's death that sets us free. It is neither revenge nor will it be the eradication of every person who wishes to harm us that finally guarantees our freedom. It is God's love in Christ that sets us free. We find true freedom in forgiveness not revenge.

I want my country to be free.  

Thinking about Thinking About God

In the past few weeks the Evangelical world has been abuzz about Pastor Rob Bell's book LoveWins: A Book about Heaven, Hell and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived. It began when his new publisher posted the most controversial quote from the book that it could find, challenging the "traditional" views of heaven and hell that most Christians teach. 

A firestorm of tweets and blogs hit the internet denouncing Bell as a Universalist (someone who believes that everyone will go to heaven) and a heretic (someone who turns away from the "right" teaching of the church). Last week, as his book was released, Rob made the rounds on the morning news shows to be interviewed and he even did an hour-long streaming internet interview. Each TV interview began with a tease that claimed he was now saying there was no such place as hell. 

Full disclosure: I like Rob Bell. I've been to his church. I attended his preaching conference two years ago. I use some of his Nooma videos in classes that I teach. This week I purchased Love Wins and have read just over half of it so far. I wasn't planning on buying it right away but so many people in my congregation have asked me about it that I thought I had better read it so I could speak from my own perspective.

My comment today isn't about Pastor Bell or his book. It's about the way the larger Christian Church has responded to it; especially the Evangelicals.

It occurred to me this morning that the Evangelical church has caught up with us Lutherans. Correct theology and the tenacious debate around it is becoming the primary concern of church leadership.Theology is the strength of the Lutheran church. It's what we're known for. Here is what I can tell you about theology.

1. Theology is simply thinking about God. So most people are theologians in that sense. But those who have spent years studying theology have built up jargon, catch phrases and other forms of shorthand that separate the academics from those who casually reflect on the nature of the Divine. Two tiers are created. An amateur and a professional rank are created. The professional ranks are populated by clergy, professional academics and some others in church leadership. The amateur ranks are made up of everyone else who thinks about God and God's participation in the world.

In this case what I am observing is an uproar within the professional ranks. It's mostly clergy and professional academics who are upset by the whole thing. What I am seeing among the amateur ranks is an interest in the conversation. Yes it can be upsetting to people to have long-held thoughts and beliefs challenged. But I am also seeing and hearing from people that these are the very kinds of questions that they have. The traditional ways of describing life and faith are no longer connecting with our experience and we need to figure out how to change the way we talk and think about God and Life without compromising the central message of the faith.

2. Within the professional ranks a game appears that I call competitive theology. I was first introduced to it in seminary. It is the subtle and not so subtle oneupmanship between classmates that are vying for attention from professors. What begins, I believe, as a true exchange of ideas becomes a competition whose goal is to win a debate, not to inform or to be informed by the conversation. When winning a debate is the goal, then labeling your opponent becomes the way you paint them into a corner. Defending yourself from accusations of heresy is a very different thing than debating the merits of your thoughts. Labeling and accusing are attempts to shut down the conversation, not move it forward.

Competitive theology is addictive in the same way that winning anything is addictive. It's one of the primary reasons I stopped going to theological conferences put on by my denomination. I too easily get sucked into the drama of the competition and I lose my perspective of love for the other. What begins as a journey together ends as a race, and if the other person (or group of thinkers) doesn't have what it takes to get to the end, well, it's their own fault. That is not the kind of person I want to be. 

3. No one goes to heaven because of good theology. We all say this. We all believe this. We act as if the opposite were true. 

If we really believe that eternal life is a gift of God's grace (wherever and whenever it is found to be) then why do we get so upset about bad theology? If we claim (and we do) that I cannot come to Christ by my own will or understanding, then why is it so important that I get my theology right? Is bad theology an unforgivable sin? My experience is that it is not. Any theology, even bad theology, can be redeemed by God. In fact if it weren't for some of the bad theology in my past I wouldn't be where I am today. God uses all of that to lead me to new life and new understanding.

Theology is a conversation to be joined, not an answer to be found. We need to get back to the conversation.

Paint a Picture of God for Me

Tonight two people painted a picture of God for me. To the casual observer they are the same God. I believe that in the  minds of the people who were speaking, they both referred to the God of Abraham, Joseph, King David and the Father of Jesus (the one from Nazareth). Both of the pictures were painted with words and I saw them, heard them, on the internet. Both were painted with sincerity and passion.

Both images of God were painted with the words like, Love and Goodness. Both described a God with whom we can have a living and loving relationship. Both artists/story tellers believe that such a relationship is a path to a richer, better lived life. 

But this is where the similarities end.

The first picture that was painted for me was done so by Rob Bell in a streaming event sponsored (I assume) by the publisher (Harper Collins) of his new book Love Wins which will be released tomorrow. In the hour long video Rob answers questions from Newsweek reporter Lisa Miller and people in the audience. In his answers he stresses the "here and now" aspect of both heaven and hell and emphasizes the way that Jesus and much of scripture talks about the ways that God comes to earth - not how we escape it to be with God. God is Love, he says, and Love demands freedom, even if it means freedom to stay away from God.

The second picture that was painted for me was done by a young woman on You Tube who posted a video titled, "God is So Good.!!!" In her three minute video she tells how she and some friends have been praying fervently since the beginning of Lent (6 days ago) that God reveal himself to the atheists of the world. She then went on to say that God answered her prayers when he literally shook the country of Japan with the earthquake last Friday. She then breathlessly looked forward to more of God's "goodness" to be poured out on Europe and America before Easter because of all the atheists in residence.

Can these both be pictures of the same God? 

No. No they can't. One paints a picture of a God who is loving and forgiving. The other paints a picture of a God who masquerades as loving and forgiving but has these unpredictable bouts of anger and wrath. One is painted by a person who wants to see the end of suffering and the other is painted by someone who is secretly delighted by someone else's suffering.

Unfortunately, these pictures are often mashed up and co-mingled. They both fly under the banner of Christianity. They both exist within our churches and the minds of the people in the churches. 

Maybe it is time to sort them out.

Observing Lent

How do you observe the season of Lent? There are several traditional ways of observing the 40 day season that leads up to our celebration of Christ’s resurrection.

Sacrifice: Many Christians observe Lent by giving up something that is special to them. Some give up chocolate or desserts. The youth group is encouraging people to give up texting. Others go without soda or restrict their TV viewing. Whatever it is you give up, the idea is to somehow experience sacrifice. And while most of the things we give up don’t cause us to truly suffer, they do offer a reminder of what it meant for Jesus to sacrifice his life for us.

Intensified Spiritual Practice: The season of Lent was originally a time for those who wanted to be baptized to increase their devotion to God. Sacrifice was a part of this practice. People fasted (went without food for a specified time) and they also sacrificed so they could give more to the poor. In addition to sacrifice they also added time for prayer, devotion and serving those in need. The idea with intensified spiritual practice is to become more Christ-like in our everyday lives. It was hoped that at the end of the 40 days of preparation, those spiritual practices would continue. Easter was not a release from these sacrifices and practices. Easter is about the new life that is formed through them.

Led by the Spirit: The 40 days of Lent are based on Jesus’ experience in the wilderness after his baptism. We are told that Jesus was led by the Holy Spirit (actually “expelled” to the wilderness in the Greek). The wilderness is a place of chaos and testing. It is a place where we are not in control.

I think it is interesting that our current Lenten practices encourage us to take more control in our lives when, for Jesus, it was about letting go of control. At the end of the 40 days in the wilderness, Jesus was tempted by Satan to take control of his life and his destiny. Instead, Jesus let God remain in control. He would take no shortcuts. He would not force God’s hand.

What would it look like for us if we were led by the Spirit through the 40 days of Lent? What would it be like if we were not in control?  What would it be like to experience the hunger of a fast and suffer alongside the millions of people who are hungry every day? What would it be like for Christians to stop trying to build the Kingdom of God through a political process and, instead, became servants of the least deserving people? What if we gave up the notion that if we just pray more, give more or worship more then God will have to ease our suffering or bless us in some other way?

Being led by the Spirit means being led into suffering. Not in some sadistic, self-effacing way or in some attempt at delayed glory. The Spirit leads us into suffering for some other reason. 

Perhaps this is what I'm being led to explore during Lent. We'll see.

Who Are You Paying Attention To?

Yesterday, like so many people in our country, I gathered with friends to watch the Super Bowl. This year my favorite team was playing so I was interested in more than just the commercials. I watched the pre-game hoopla and was struck by the sheer abundance of sponsored segments and product placement entertainment. Then, at over 3 million dollars for 30 seconds of airtime, we were glued to the television to watch the commercials. After two beers it dawned on me that I wouldn't be able to find time to run to the bathroom. I wanted to pay attention to it all.

It is really mind-boggling just how many resources go into capturing our attention. The spectacle of the Super Bowl is simply an overblown example of what most of us see every day.

Then today, while doing some work, I was thinking about the way we are all trying to get people to pay attention to us. I'm not suggesting that we are all narcissistic and self absorbed. I'm just aware that we all have this need to know that someone is paying attention to us. It lets us know that we are not alone. It comforts us to know that if something happens to us, someone else will notice. 

But what happens when we are spending our time and energy getting noticed and not paying attention to someone else? Or what happens when we pay attention only to things on TV instead of the people around us?  

Perhaps one of the most important things we can do is pay attention to those people around us. It is time consuming, energy intensive and almost completely opposite of what our culture teaches us to do. Instead of demanding that they compete for our attention like advertisers on the Super Bowl, if we freely give them the one thing they crave more than any other, they will be free to give their attention to others.

Imagine a world people are given more attention than a corn chip ad even if they are not as clever or entertaining. I can only think it would be a better place.

Good Day and Welcome to Day 12

This is the twelfth and final reflection on Christmas posted during the 12 Days of Christmas.

12 days ago the idea of reflecting on Christmas for twelve days began with a reaction I had to Don Miller's tweet about giving "Christ the entry he deserved but did not orchestrate himself." This, I thought to myself, is the problem with Christmas. We try to make it into something it is not meant to be.

I need to confess that I don't like Christmas. I haven't liked Christmas for a long time. I don't know when it started but I can hardly remember a time when I did like Christmas. I remember talking to my mom about Santa's existence and feeling betrayed by the adults who would perpetrate such an elaborate ruse. In high school, I remember my Grandpa Jones admitting that he didn't like Christmas. It reminded him of family (parents and siblings) that he left back in Wales to come to the United States as a boy. I don't know if these things triggered my dislike of the holiday but I know that it has grown over the years.

My reflections over these twelve days of Christmas were an attempt to put my feelings about Christmas into perspective. As I have written them I have noticed some themes. Here is what I think I am learning this year at Christmas:

Christmas is an elaborate production. For most people, Christmas has become an opportunity to become the stage manager in our personal Christmas pageant. Sets and scenes are created. People are directed to come and go on cue. We carefully choose costumes (note the popularity of ugly sweater parties). Every sense is engaged as carols waft in the background and mingle with the taste and smell of Christmas baking. Even though claim this is not what Christmas is about, just try to take it away and see how you are treated.

I believe that Christmas is about the real presence of the Divine in our lives. I believe that we can only recognize that presence in quiet, reflective moments. Yes, God is present in our elaborate productions but we have a hard time detecting that presence when there is so much to distract us. Sometimes it feels like the production is there specifically to keep us from experiencing the Presence that we seek.

Christmas is primarily about the tradition. Traditions are ways that we stay rooted to predominant cultural values. Because we are in a time of great cultural flux there is an increased desire to cling to these traditions. In fact, the traditions have become more important than the facts.

This is the most annoying part of Christmas to me. I am all for observing traditions as long as they convey some meaning. I detest traditions when the meaning has been lost and we simply observe a tradition because it has always been done that way. (Let me tell you about weddings some day.) I believe the fact that we cling so strongly to traditions reveals an inherent mistrust of God's presence in our lives. It is part of the human desire to remain where God was and not venture out to where God is.

Christmas is blended together. Everything about Christmas has been thrown into a big blender and there is no way to make distinctions between the religious and non-religious. As one friend replied to a post, "Perhaps there is no secular."

This is the part that I have to work on. This is the thing that can make Christmas better. In all of the productions and all of the traditions God is present. This is what happens when God relinquishes control and becomes vulnerable. We humans become partners in a creative endeavor. The best creative impulses are mash-ups of dreams, attempts, successes and failures. Christmas will change. Well, the traditions will change. But the presence of the Divine will not.

With that in mind, let me share my favorite Christmas song. A true mash-up of religious and non-religious traditions. Merry Christmas.

Christmas Exposed

This is the eleventh in a series of 12 personal reflections on Christmas posted during the 12 Days of Christmas.

Evidently there area a lot of things that I don't get about Christmas. The musings that I have posted over the last 10 days have been an attempt to sort some of it out. But there is one part of the Christmas story that still stupefies me. It is a part that we rarely talk about.

Christmas is about being vulnerable.

Christmas is a season where we go to great lengths to show that we are in control. On top of already busy lives we toss in parties, shopping, decorating and then insist on a facade of cheer. There is no place for sadness or depression. There is no place to admit that we belong to screwed up families. There is no place to be realistic about finances or the fact that we already have more than we need. It is not acceptable to be tired, weary, worn or grumpy. Be nice, smile and keep going. That's what we do at Christmas.

The Christmas story has long been interpreted this way too. In a crazy, messed-up, sin-ridden world God is in control and has a plan. God will send a Son into the world: A God-Man who will pay the price for our ticket out of here when we die. He will be nice. He will smile. And he will keep on going through the most agonizing and stress-filled events life can hand him.

The preacher says, "We should too."

But what if we interpret the story a bit differently. What if we see that in this crazy, messed-up, sin-ridden world God chooses to be completely opposite of "in control" and becomes totally and utterly vulnerable. Is there anything more vulnerable than a new-born infant? It can't communicate, can't move, can't find food or water on it's own and wouldn't be able to digest it if it could. A new born is as vulnerable and dependent on the care of others as anything I can imagine.

Now let's expand this notion a bit. If you are a God in control and you do choose to become human by birth wouldn't you choose to be born into a family with the means of supporting you? Yet in this story God chooses a peasant couple whose relationship is rocked to the point of breaking by the surprise pregnancy. They are displaced. Over the next few years they will be forced to move to a far country, leaving family and support structures behind even though they have no experience doing this. And why, please tell me why a God who wants to be in control would choose a time in history when infant and childhood mortality rates are so much higher than they are now.

The virgin birth is a small miracle compared to that of a child surviving to adulthood under these circumstances.

Maybe the Christmas story is God's way of saying that it's okay to be vulnerable; it's okay not to be in control. God will live in a family that is a bit dysfunctional. God will be forced to go places and do things by forces that are outside of his control. God will find peace in all of this by being a servant to the sick and lowly.

Then the preacher says, "Maybe we can too."

Christmas Mash-up

This is the tenth in a series of twelve personal reflections on Christmas posted during the 12 Days of Christmas.

Okay. It is really starting to feel not like Christmas. The "holidays" are over. It's back to work today. Tomorrow it's back to school for the kids.

Yet three days of Christmas remain and I haven't touched on one of the most head-scratching aspects of Christmas yet. Namely, the mash-up between sacred and secular depictions of Christmas: Santa vs. Jesus.

I don't remember the first time I learned that December 25 was most likely not the day which Jesus was born but I don't think it surprised me. Christians co-opted the winter solstice celebration as a way of winning converts and giving the faithful a reason to celebrate along with the rest of the culture. It makes sense from a practical point of view and makes sense from a metaphorical point of view as well. (The return of the Son/sun; light of the world; lightens the darkness etc...) The Christmas tree, extra lights and bringing other natural decorations and signs of life indoors come from those pagan solstice celebrations. They have little to do with Christian belief or theology but are undeniable parts of the Christmas celebration. We even put Christmas trees and greens up in the Worship Room and other places around the church.

And then we have Santa Claus; the legend of the jolly, fat, toy maker who distributes gifts during the hours of darkness between Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. Santa Claus was originally Saint Nicholas. But over the years this 4th Century Bishop, who put a coin in shoes that were left outside the homes of poverty stricken families, morphed into the man in the red suit who pilots a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer. Secular culture has struck back, stealing an icon of faith and redirecting the focus of the celebration from Jesus' birth to gift giving.

To be honest, I have forayed into the Jesus vs. Santa debate too. I am no different than the ornament makers who depict Santa bowing down at the manger, worshiping the baby Jesus. One year I even had "Santa" interrupt my Christmas Eve sermon to tell everyone the "real" meaning of Christmas like an enlightened Linus in A Charlie Brown Christmas. 

But I'm not so sure this has to be a debate. The more I learn about faith and tradition the more I realize that it is always a mash-up of the sacred and secular. Maybe that's because the story of Jesus' birth is about the sacred being mashed-up with the secular. God becomes human. It doesn't get more mashed up than that. In fact, the whole Jesus story as recorded in the scriptures can be interpreted as a tearing down of that false division between sacred and secular.

I'm afraid that our attempts to keep a distinct line between sacred and secular are simply ways of confining the sacred in a neat package that can be controlled or used to control others. Maybe the mash-up of Christmas traditions is God's way of telling us that it is okay to live with hope and love and generosity even when we are uncomfortable doing it in a religious way.

Silently, How Silently

This is the ninth in a series of 12 personal reflections on Christmas posted during the Twelve days of Christmas.

This morning I am indulging an a rare luxury for a pastor. I am sitting quietly in my room with a cup of coffee and a donut on a Sunday morning. It's the last day of a week of vacation and it makes me smile to think that the hustle and busyness of the Sunday morning church routine is going on without me. I cherish the opportunities I have to sit quietly and reflect. I wish I had more.

For the past three days the words of the third stanza of O Little Town of Bethlehem have been an earworm in my mind. Actually, I didn't realize it was O Little Town until this morning. The fact that it is the third stanza is even more interesting. Over the years many Christmas carols have imprinted their first stanza in my memory and occasionally a second stanza but rarely a third.  In case you aren't familiar with this particular stanza:

Silently, how silently

The wondrous gift is given

So God imparts to human hearts

The wondrous gifts of heaven

No ear may hear his coming

But in this world of sin

Where meek souls will receive him still

The dear Christ enters in

I've always thought of these words as refering to the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. It was the quiet, almost unnoticed birth of a child in the poor part of town that was being referenced. But it is way more than that. 

It is about the way that the Divine enters our lives every day: In the silent moments of reflection. In the meekness of gratitude and the realization that all of life and everything about it is a gift. Aren't these the places where grace and wonder come alive? Aren't these the times when we recognize the goodness that is in all the other places?

In my mind, Christmas is not just about December 25 or a single birth that took place in Bethlehem over 2000 years ago. Christmas is about the constant rebirth of love and wonder in our lives that can happen every day. We simply need to be quiet for a bit to see it.

Is Christmas Over Yet?

This is the eighth in a series of personal Christmas refections posted during the 12 Days of Christmas

It's weird writing about Christmas on New Year's Day. Christmas seems so past tense. It was last week for heaven's sake. The store's have started (if they aren't finished) putting away all the Christmas decorations. I've seen people post on Facebook that they have already cleaned up from Christmas. In our neighborhood some of the houses that have had Christmas lights on since mid-November have left them unplugged the past few days.

When I was a kid it felt like Christmas lasted a long time. Maybe it was because we had that two-week break from school that was known as Christmas vacation. As an adult I get one day off for Christmas (which a lot of pastor's don't) and one day off for New Year's. If I take vacation time I end up working more before and after the time off. If I don't take vacation it is right back to work.

Was there ever a time when people really feasted for 12 days at Christmas? In an agricultural society in the northern hemisphere there isn't a whole lot to do during the winter other than to tend to the animals. So perhaps Christmas was an excuse to get together and celebrate. Maybe it was a way to keep depression at arm's length and look forward to the longer and warmer days to come.

At our house we try to leave the Christmas tree and decorations up for the entire 12 days of Christmas. But that week after New Year's Day it seems more like laziness than ecclesiastical integrity. And to be honest, every day that I post on this Christmas blog it gets harder and harder to even think about Christmas. The last few days I feel like I am forcing the issue on people who have happily moved on. And we are only two-thirds of the way through Christmas.

So how long does Christmas last at your home? When do things get put away? When does it feel right to move on?

Maybe Christmas in our culture has moved to the days before December 25. Is that so bad?