The Mystery of Christmas

I never really appreciated Christmas before.

I enjoyed the presents and decorations and turkey dinner.  Those things I appreciated.  Especially the presents.

But the spiritual side of Christmas - I never understood it, and I didn't know why it really mattered.

I was always more of an Easter person.  Easter is important, theologically speaking.  The Son of God died on a cross to pay the penalty for sins.  This is what gives us salvation and eternal life.  We need Easter.

Christmas?  Not so much.  In order for Jesus to die, he first had to come.  That's the only reason why we needed Christmas.

Thus Christmas seemed overdone.  It's was less important, with respect to the work of God, than Easter.  Yet it's a much bigger celebration culturally.  More decorations, more parties, more concerts, more presents.  Especially more presents.

          I felt like the Christmas carol:

          I wonder as I wander out under the sky

          How Jesus the Saviour did come for to die

          For poor on'ry people like you and like I;

          I wonder as I wander out under the sky

          (John Jacob Niles, 1933)


At the birth I was only looking forward to the death.  Jesus came to die, just like we hear in church all the time.  So the birth was unimportant.

A couple of years ago it changed.  

My first step to understanding the birth was actually at a Good Friday service.  The preacher was giving his message, and my mind started to wander (just like the song said...).  This was a person, God as a person, who died.  God was flesh-and-blood.  In my wandering mind I contrasted this with the more "new agey" thoughts of God, as energy and vapor and something that exists within the universe.  And then I thought, "Well, they're partly right.  God is a great energy, God is vapor, and spirit.  But all of this energy and spirit, all the essence of God, was compressed, if you will, into a body.  A baby even."  I had an image of the Spirit of the universe compressing, like a reversal of the Big Bang, Spirit and Energy coalescing, with the end product being ... a baby, spit out onto a conveyor belt from a giant Compressing Machine.

I shook my head at the idea.  It was impossible.  Unfathomable.  All of this Energy and Spirit couldn't come together, couldn't fit, in a baby's body and mind.  It was impossible.  And yet, that's what Christmas tells us.  

"Incarnation" means "in the flesh".   

          For God in all his fullness was pleased to dwell in Christ.  Colossians 1.19

What else changed?

The second step was in preaching in the weeks before Christmas a couple of years ago.  Preaching makes me wrestle with thoughts and Bible verses and ideas.  I had to wrestle with why all these sermons related to Christmas mattered, why what I was saying was important at all.

Sure, Jesus had to die.  Even from a "good story" perspective he had to die.  (What if he hadn't died?  What if the crowds would have gotten bigger and bigger as Jesus got older and older?  And then Jesus would be 80 and have Alzheimer's Disease and develop pneumonia and forget to heal himself and die.  That's not a good story.)  

Jesus had to die.

And the resurrection - it had to happen as well.  

But they're at least possible.  They make sense.

• Death by crucifixion - theologically necessary, and agreeably conducted by the Romans.  No problem.
• Resurrection - coming back to life after being dead.  No too hard, really.  If you believe that Jesus could make blind men see and lame men with shriveled legs suddenly stand and he could walk on water, then he (and God) were already experts at suspending the laws of nature and performing miracles.  Yes, coming back to life is more difficult than most miracles, especially when the one performing the miracle is dead.  But if God could speak creation into being and give life to Adam and Eve, then coming back to life shouldn't be that, well, unexpected.  
• But the incarnation - that's unbelievable.  That's the great mystery.  That's the part I don't understand.

God of the universe, creator of all things, source of life, Spirit of heaven becoming a body.  

• This is a painter who paints a picture, and then leaves his body to enter into the painting as one of the characters.  
• This is an author who writes a book, but then stops writing and becomes a character as the story writes itself.  
• A baker who becomes one of the ingredients.  
• A candlemaker who becomes a candle.  
• A carpenter who becomes a piece of lumber.  

It's impossible.  

It's unfathomable.  

It's ludicrous.  

It just doesn't make any sense.

God came to be with us as one of us.

How?
And why?

In the beginning was the Word.
The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. 
Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. 
In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.
He came into the very world he created.
The Word became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness.  John 1.1-4, 11, 14

How, I cannot answer.  I can't understand how a painter would become part of the painting.  But you and I are the dumb images in the painting, unable to understand much of anything.  We can't imagine how the painter would suddenly stand beside us within the frame.

Why God came to be, I can guess.  My understanding is small though, like an ant.

God came to be with people.

That was the whole point.  God longs to be with people.

Why did God make people to begin with?  To be with them.  To have a fellowship, a sharing, a communion together.  There's an image of God walking in the garden, looking for Adam and Eve.  God longs for fellowship with us.

When God came he was with us.  Experiencing, talking, touching, being among us.  No longer separated by flesh-spirit division, but as one of us, in the middle of us, being one of us.

When we're in heaven God will be with us.  “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them." Revelation 21.3  We're referred to as the Bride of Christ - every groom looks forward to his wedding night.  God will be with us.

It's not so much so that we could be with him.

It's so he could be with us.

When you look at the birth of Jesus in the shadow of the crucifixion then the Incarnation is something that God does for us.  It was necessary for him to become the sacrifice for sin of humanity so we could be saved.  

But look at the crucifixion in the shadow of the manger instead.  The cross only completes something that God sought during the incarnation.

God came to be with his people.

The cross merely lets the incarnation last for eternity.

That's why I now love Christmas.

Crucifixion: The Climax of the Story

Every story has a climax.  It’s the major conflict of the story.  The whole story builds toward it; everything in the story is pointing toward this single event.

 

The crucifixion is the climax of the four gospels.  It is the event that each of the four writers emphasize.  The crucifixion and resurrection are what matters to their minds.  There are many events and stories and teachings through the life of Jesus, but the most important event, without question, is the crucifixion.

When we’ve read it 100 times it loses its significance.  I have a hard time really paying attention to it while I read.  I glance over it, hardly remembering it.

Yet if Christianity is true, it’s because of Jesus.  And if Jesus matters, his death and coming back to life matters, as the climax to our story.

Here’s something that stood out as I read this time:

Jesus was taunted by the religious leaders, by the people, and by the thieves:

•  You saved others.  Can’t you save yourself?
• Come down from that cross if you really are the Son of God.

Both gave the same challenge:  Come down from your cross.

He is the irony of it: The whole point was for Jesus to go up on the cross.

He didn’t come just to teach moral lessons and do miracles to help people and amaze the crowds.

He didn’t come just to serve humanity and demonstrate the “grace and truth” of God.

He came to endure a crucifixion.  To die.  To win over death.

We have various theologies to try to explain it.

• His death was the sacrificial punishment for our sins.
• He paid the penalty for our guilt.
• His resurrection was a victory over death and evil.

True, but I suspect we’re only scratching the surface.  Just as the people of the day didn’t understand what was happening, I suspect we still barely understand in retrospect.  Something great, something cosmic, something good, something necessary for God was happening.

His death and his coming back to life is the pinnacle.  Of the gospel stories, of the Bible, and of history.  It matters.

The Childish Strategy of Leadership

Matthew 18.  The disciples of Jesus come and ask, "Who is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?"

Jesus brings a little child and puts him in the middle.  "Anyone who becomes as humble as this child ..."

But wait!  There's something before that part.  
First, Jesus says, "Guys, unless you turn from your sins ..."

What's he talking about?
Well, maybe Jesus is talking to the disciples.  Maybe he's responding to their question.  Maybe he's tired of them jockeying to be number one all the time, tired of their ambitions, replying to their desire to be the favourite.  

"Get over your sin of trying to be first.  Become as insignificant as the child.  Then you're getting close."

The curse of leading
I'm always the guy in charge. I'm not great at leading, but it's where I find myself.  I'm a pig that way; I'm drawn to places where there is nothing, and I try to make something.  I'm rarely the follower, or the support person.

The world needs leaders.  Leadership is a gift, and groups need a leader, or they don't go anywhere.  

You can't disappear as a leader though.  People see you.  Often leaders like being seen.  
We're important.  And we know it.

It's hard to be the child when you lead.
People recognize you.  And God says, "You have your reward."

How do you let go of everything and be a child when you lead?

Sharing your [toys]

I'm going to hope mission tonight to help serve dinner in the inner city.  I invited Terra and Trinity to come along and help. Both are quite happy to come along.

In fact Trinity ran up to her room and brought down $20 and said she wanted to give it to Hope Mission. It was her Christmas money that her grandmother had given her.

Often we criticize children when they're selfish. We think we need to teach them to share their toys. sometimes it's the other way around.

My first reaction was ' No Trinity, that's too much money.  That's the money that your grandmother gave you.' I wanted her to keep it instead.

Who is really free from the trap of money? Who is generous Who needs to learn to share?

I was swimming Monday and had a new revelation about myself.

I swim twice a week.  I'm a poor swimmer but try hard to learn.  I race in a triathlon each summer, so going to the pool is part of my preparation.  (I'm a good runner, mediocre biker, and bad swimmer.)

I was struggling through my second lap when I realized something:  I don't really enjoy swimming.
In fact, I don't really enjoy anything.

To explain, here's what I don't mean:

• I don't mean, "I don't like anything."
• I also don't mean, "I don't do things that I enjoy."
• What I mean is, "I don't enjoy things that I do."  You see, I do things that I enjoy, I just don't enjoy doing them.

Here's why:  Everything that I do (yes, everything) is something that I have to get done, so I can move on and do something else.  

I don't do things for the sake of enjoying them.  I do things because I have to get them done so I can move on and do the next 3 things that I have to get done.  Life has become a list of chores and responsibilities.  I'm never "in the moment;"  I'm always thinking, "I have to hurry and finish this because I have 7 other things to do as well."

It's not that I'm doing things I don't want to do.  If I could re-program my life completely I would probably do exactly what I'm doing now.  It's more that I have the wrong mindset.  I can't settle down and be present in the moment of doing things because I'm more concerned about the things in the future I have to do.

Take swimming, for example.  I don't swim because I enjoy swimming.  I swim because I have to be able to swim so I can do a triathlon.  Do I enjoy triathlon?  Honestly, not really.  I don't really like running, and I'm indifferent to biking.  I like being able to say that I can do triathlons - few people can actually finish a triathlon.  But I don't particularly enjoy the triathlon.

I could enjoy them.  But when I run it's a need to complete so I can race well; I don't enjoy the runs that I do.  When I bike to work it's part of the training necessary as well.  They input is always a means to an end.  Even the end - the race - is merely a means to a different end - the sense of accomplishment, and not being fat at 40.  Everything is a necessary input for something else, never a moment to be enjoyed by itself.

Here's another example:  Landscaping.  I do landscape construction because I like working outside building things.  But when I work on a project my psyche is obsessed with "I need to get this finished because I have to start the next project."  I'm never lost in the moment, enjoying what I do.  

Here's another example:  playing with my kids.  I love my kids.  I value time with them.  But when we're together my mind is flashing ahead to the other things I could be "accomplishing", the to-do list of other things I need to do.  I'm never lost in the moment of enjoying them.


In the pool I tried, tried to be different.  Just to relax, and swim because I enjoyed it.  Not for the race in the future, just for the moment.  To be present where I was.  I can swim!  I can lay in the water and propel myself from one end of the pool to the other!  I can be buoyant and alive in the water!  

I felt more light, a bit like I was floating.  More calm.  Smiling.
Can life be like that?

Soccer dad

Three months ago I registered Trinity for soccer.  I wanted to help out a bit.  

You spend a lot of time together, you and your kid, when you coach. You're at every practice and game, moving the team ahead. You're involved right in the middle of their life. Suddenly it's not their teacher at school or music teacher or some other dad who is spending those moments with your daughter, it's you. You in the middle, you shaping them, you helping their friends, you being there. 

I was always a but jealous of dads who coach their kids teams. It takes a lot of time. And usually I don't have enough time. So I never did it before, while other dads coached my daughter.

This time I signed up to assist the coach.  When there was no head coach I was asked to be it. What a task; what a treat.

Yet there were 14 other girls, and 14 other families, who played. I wasn't going to just focus on my all star.  There was a whole team, and I had a role for each of them.

Honestly, I didn't make it about soccer. We had practices and games, and I did my best to help them learn soccer.  But when we talk about kids and sports, adults always preach that it's about other things.  About having fun.  About playing together and making friends.  About character.  About developing people.

We worked hard to do our best and win.  We did drills in practice.  And we won some games - about half of them.  I was warned that the girls wouldn't care much about the score, which was completely wrong.  They celebrated each goal, and were excited about every time we won.  But it was about more than winning.

I broke it down into three parts:

• Have fun.
• Play hard.  
• Be a good teammate.

I had now idea how to teach these things.  So I reverted to the most basic medium I could think of:  Candy.  Our team was the Bubblegum Bashers.  So after each game I gave out free gum.  A piece to everyone, because each girl is valuable.  But three special pieces of gum, one each to the girl who had the most fun, worked hard, and was a good teammate.

Really, there was something else I strove for.  Something even more basic, which I think is the core thing we all need.  I wanted the girls to all feel loved.  I wanted them to feel loved by the team, and I wanted them to know that I valued each of them.  If we won or lost, if they scored or were scored on, it didn't matter.  I was proud of them, I valued them, and there were loved.  

The challenge is, how to do you make your girls know they're loved and not get arrested? 

In little ways, I guess.  The bubblegum prizes.  The focus on fun while learning.  Enthusiasm when they played.  Comfort when something was bad.  Constant encouragement.  Correcting when needed, but never demeaning.   Being their biggest cheerleader.  Never complaining to the ref.  Telling each they were important, and pointing out what they were good at.

I don't know how well I did.  They keep a score in the games, but it seems like the more important something is, they harder it is to quantify.  

There were some neat moments though.  Like the card one girl gave me at the end. She runs like a deer and scores strong goals, but she appreciated me calling her to encourage her after she tried a turn at net and was scored on five times.  The row of girls who gave out hugs after one game.  (We played with only 6 girls a whole game, and actually won.  The girls were ecstatic and exhausted when it ended.  Trinity was the first to get to me, and gave me a big hug.  When she let go the next girl was there running with her arms open too.  Oh well, hugs all around, I guess.)  The parents who shook my hand after and said Thanks.  Some really neat moments that signalled that I was at least on the right track.

Mostly, I'm proud of the time I spent with Trinity.  She was glad for it all.  We did a whole season together.  She was so happy when she scored.  She was devastated when she let in goals while being goalie, she cried herself to sleep that night.  (Goalies are a whole different personality type, I learned.)  For two months I was there, in the middle of her life.  That was the best place I could be.

Attitudes

I don't want to.
I guess so.
I'm glad to.

Darcia needed a massage last night.  We have a big massage machine - we call it The Thumper.  That's what it does, thumps up and down your back, bruising you into tenderness.

When Darcia asks for a massage it's always at the end of the day.  Read: at night.  After I lay down in bed.
I always say 'Yes.' But to be honest, I don't always have a good attitude about it.

A lot of the time I'd like to say "No thank you.  You see, I'm tucked into bed already, and it's cold out there. How about tomorrow?"  

I never say that though.  I do it because I should. It's my duty. What husband is so mean that he would refuse this after his wife has worked hard all day? Of course I will.  I'm just not happy about it, and I hope you remember this later.  Like when I want something.

How about "I'd love to"? "It is my delight." "If it makes you happy there is nothing I would rather do."
Serving is always putting others first. Consider others as more important than yourself, think nothing of your own life.

Can I respond with joy when others ask for something?