Advent Rant

Nils and I were at the Holidazzle Parade a few weeks ago, braving the chilly Minnesota temperatures to stand outside and watch lighted floats slowly go by. One of the men in front of us at one point heckled, "Where are the menorahs? Where is the Kwanza float? This is the Holidazzle Parade, not the Christmas Parade!"

But it wasn't a Christmas parade. The floats were all from storybooks for the most part: Peter Pan, Hansel and Gretel, The Wizard of Oz, Pinocchio. And of course Santa Claus.

Nothing in the parade was focused at all on the Christ-mass. No shepherds. No angels. No Mary and Joseph. And definitely no baby Jesus. It wasn't truly a Christmas parade.

But it's not even Christmas yet. Soon. But not yet. It's Advent.

I heard a Christian singer being interviewed on the radio the other day. He was saying how he gets legalistic about Christmas. No decorations should be up until after Thanksgiving and then it's all down by New Year's Day. But if he wants to get legalistic, shouldn't he wait until Christmas Day, or at least Christmas Eve, and keep everything up until at least the twelfth day of Christmas?

Over the past few years there has been some outrage over stores telling their employees to say "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Chirstmas." Recently the GOP had been selling a t-shirt which reads on the front: "Only liberals say 'Happy Holidays;'" and on the back: "Merry Christmas!" As if Christmas were a political platform. (Apparently they removed that shirt from their store this week.)

Should the church be upset with people saying "Merry Christmas" before December 25? Instead we should all be wishing each other a "Peaceful Advent!"

Of course, even in the church, not everyone agrees on Christmas. Many Orthodox Christians celebrate Christmas on January 6. Some branches of Protestantism don't even celebrate Christmas at all, believing it's not proper to have a day to celebrate the birth of Jesus.

I don't mean to go all Pope Francis on you, but if we're going to advocate for "putting Christ back in Christmas," shouldn't we also advocate for "putting the mass back in Christmas" as well?

My point? I'm not sure. I guess I just felt like a good rant (just wait until my Santa rant tomorrow). But I think it may be that we all have different approaches to celebrating this season. It's not a battle ground or a political ideology.

I happen to like Advent. We have our Advent candles on our kitchen table along with the devotion we read from. We often don't put up our tree until St. Nicholas or Santa Lucia Day (though we went earlier this year because of my wife's travels). Our magi and camels are no where near the nativity yet. They're traveling until Epiphany on January 6. Baby Jesus won't be in the manger until Christmas morning.

It's important to make this season meaningful for you and your family. And not in a gift-giving or holiday event way. (And I don't mind using the word holiday because I know it's root is "holy day." A day set apart. If anything, let's reclaim the "holy-days." Make them sacred. Make them holy. Remember why we observe them. Whether it's St. Nicholas Day, Christmas, the feast of the Holy Family, or Epiphany.

Until then, have a peaceful Advent.

Advent 4: Waiting for a Sign

In Isaiah chapter 7 we come across the familiar prophecy that the virgin shall give birth to a child and name him Immanuel. This, of course, is part of a larger passage. In it Isaiah goes to King Ahaz of Judah. The empire of Assyria is trying to conquer more of the world including Syria, Judah, and Israel. They're in the middle of the Syro-Ephraim War (what? You didn't get that one in any of your history classes?)Alliances were made, and a long story short, King Ahaz found himself and his kingdom with not too many friends.

So the prophet Isaiah comes along and assures Ahaz that everything will work out if Ahaz just trusts God. Isaiah even lets Ahaz pick what sign he would like God to give him to show him that these words are true.

Ahaz, however, refuses. With some false religious humility, he says he won't put God to the test.

That's because he has already made an alliance with Assyria so that they'll protect Judah. With the temple gold and silver as well as royal treasury, Ahaz made Judah Assyria's indentured servants. When he could have just let God take care of things.

Isaiah says that since Ahaz won't pick a sign, God will do it Himself.  If you clicked on the link in the first paragraph and read that portion of Isaiah, you'll know that in addition to the virgin giving birth to a child named Immanuel, that by the time he is eating curds and honey he will know enough to reject wrong and choose what is right. By that time God will have laid waste to Ahaz's enemies.

The child would be the sign.

Ahaz had opportunity to ask for any sign he desired. God could have moved a mountain, made a camel fly, or done any number of miraculous things. Ahaz was full of fear, however.

God knew what was needed: something small, humble, personal. A child.


What sort of sign do you and I need to know that God's promises are true? To know that He loves us?

If we take the time (which I haven't been good at doing) to slow down and wait during the Advent season, do we even need a sign or will we find we've been given all the signs we need? I think that's why the juxtaposition of our American Thanksgiving holiday right before the Advent season is so wonderful. We acknowledge with gratitude how well God has been taking care of us.

Surely He will continue to meet all our needs both now and in the Kingdom to come.

Advent: You Need Jesus (Why Preaching Doesn't Work)

I hope that if you ever hear me preaching that you need Jesus, it's because I'm talking to myself. While I believe that we all need Jesus, I'm the only one I need to tell that to right now.

Tonight Nils and I ventured downtown (Anders was a little under the weather so Beth stayed home with him). This is an adventure in and of itself. I'm not a fan driving into the downtown of any large city. Even when I live a couple miles from it. The traffic was terrible, and we had to find a place to park which took way longer than I liked. Somehow we still managed to be at Nicollet Avenue in time to see the first float of the Holidazzle Parade coming down the street.

It's the last year of this Minneapolis tradition, so we wanted to see it one last time (we'd only been once before, several years ago--Nils didn't remember it at all). It's not all that terrific, but it's fun for the kids. There are maybe a dozen floats, but they're all lit up with lights. The people walking with the floats are lit up with lights. Even the marching band has lights. And the street is lined many rows deep with people standing in sub-freezing temperatures (tonight was a balmy 12 degrees Fahrenheit), plus all the people watching from the sky-walk and building windows.

Yesterday was Santa Lucia Day, so it was fitting to take in the lights as we near the shortest daylight hours of the year. Part way through the parade some one with a sandwich board comes up behind us and starts preaching. It wasn't the "You're all going to hell" kind of preaching at least. The guy talked about how everyone needs Jesus. How Jesus is better than any present under the tree. How it doesn't matter if you're naughty or nice, you need Jesus.

For the most part, what I didn't tune out was at least a pretty decent message. The problem is no one cared, no one cared to listen anyway. The comments from people around me were either of an eye-rolling-"oh brother, here we go" response or of a joking, ridiculing nature. While the message may have been right on, know one wanted to listen to a man yelling religious platitudes at them in the middle of a parade. Not that I can think of many situations where people would want to hear that.

After the parade finished, a group of four men with plastic pails and drumsticks sat in the same place and started knocking out some foot-tapping rhythms. People stopped and listened.

I don't know the man who had stopped to preach earlier. I'm sure it was a brave act of faith of some sorts. Maybe God told him to go and do that, but I doubt it. And I know my judging him isn't much better than his preaching. But I think we need to take note of what works and what doesn't work. Preaching at people doesn't work. Giving them moments of joy does. Condemnation doesn't work. Helping someone out does. Telling people what they need doesn't work. Loving them does.

Advent is about being still in the quietness and waiting, listening.

In that waiting and listening I am reminded that I need Jesus. You may need Him, too, but I don't know that it's my place to tell you that. It's more my place to try and make this world a little better, which I can do because I've got Jesus. Sometimes a little plastic-pail-pounding rhythm is the best way to share that. Sometimes it's a plate of cookies for your neighbor. Sometimes it's just a friendly smile.

One of my facebook friends coincidentally posted a picture tonight that said, "You can preach a better sermon with your life than with your lips." May it be so.

Advent: More Waiting

I didn't get to church tonight. I intended to; I tried to. I spent the day finishing up the artwork on a prayer station for the O Antiphons (I had O Rex Gentium/O King of the Nations) as well as getting the ingredients and making the desert we had for after church. When the time came I readied our dishes and eating utensils, I had the boys get ready, and I changed my clothes. We got our coats on and left the house. When I went to deadbolt the back door, I discovered that I didn't have my keys. I had set them on the dresser upstairs when I changed my pants. Along with my wallet which has my spare key.

It was cold outside, and we couldn't get into the garage or a vehicle. Thankfully, I had my phone with. I called our friends who have a spare key of ours. But they couldn't find it. They brought over several keys, but none worked. We drove back to their house to double-check if there were any other keys around. There was one. We went back to our house. It didn't work. So I sent the boys with them to church so they could get supper and be warm while I tried to hunt down a locksmith who would be available on a cold, snowy Sunday night. 

I called my wife (who is in San Francisco with keys to the house) to see if she had given a spare key to anyone else. She hadn't. I pulled the map up on my phone and typed in locksmith. I called the one nearby. They weren't open, of course, but their message said to press 2 for an emergency. I did. I left a message there. I didn't hear back. I called the second closest place. Their message said to press 1 for an emergency. I did. I got a call center (at least that's what it sounded like). They took my information and said someone was near and would call me back in 10-15 minutes. This was at 4:36.

I wasn't clear if that meant the person would be at our place in that amount of time or just call to confirm the information. Meanwhile I texted some nearby friends. They said I could walk down to their house to stay warm if needed. I figured I'd stay close by since it didn't sound like it would be too long a wait. After the 15 minute mark I saw the lights on at our neighbor's across the street; I went over to wait there. 

At 5:01 I received a call from the locksmith. He verified the address and that I was locked out of my house and said he'd be there in 25-30 minutes. I hadn't had a chance to catch up with our neighbors other than on facebook in a while, so it was nice to chat. After 30 minutes, I headed back to my house so I could direct the locksmith to the back door which wasn't deadbolted. And I waited. Longer than was wise of me to. 

At 6:04 I called the locksmith. He said he was 15 minutes away. 

At 6:28 he called to doulbe-check my address and said he was 3 minutes away. This time he was at least accurate. Five minutes and later I was in the house wondering if it would have been cheaper to just break a window and let myself in (I'll have to look into that for next time). 

By this time I was cold and hungry. And sad that I missed getting to church because of a dumb mistake. I love church during Advent season. And we have family celebrations coming up that may mean that we miss the next two Sundays as well. 

Advent is about waiting. Tonight I did a lot of waiting. I discovered that I don't wait well. I get anxious. I get worried. I'm typcially a patiend person with most people. I'm not when I'm locked out of my home and it's cold outside. I did get kudos from my son for not swearing when I discovered we were locked out. That's one thing I can do alright. 

I think I act the same way sometimes in my waiting for Christ. His Kingdom isn't here yet. I get anxious. I don't feel His presence the way I'd like to. I worry.  I want Him to answer my prayer. I get anxious. Our finances are tight. I worry. 

As much as Advent is about waiting, it is also about the assurance that God keeps His promises. He always comes through. 

The prayer station I finished today talks about how Jesus is the King of the nations and their desire, the cornerstone who will come save humanity. His Kingship means He is Lord, in control. I don't have to worry. I don't have to be anxious. When I do, I am taking His Kingship away and trying to claim it for myself. 

And so I learn to wait. Patiently. Seeking Him instead of my own fears. He is in control.

At 8:12, while I was putting the boys to bed, a man from the first locksmith place called and left a message. He could be at my place in an hour. For that, I'm glad I'm not still waiting. 

Celebrating St. Nick

If you've been around us, you know that we don't celebrate Christmas with Santa Claus and all those trimmings. Today is our day. Kind of. 

Today we observe the celebration of St. Nicholas: the real saint whose image and life lent itself to forming some of the modern day Santa Claus image. St. Nicholas grew up in a wealthy family in Greece in the late third century. His parents died when he was young, but he continued with his pious upbringing. He is said to have given away much of his wealth (including a story of leaving gold coins for three young, impoverished virgins whose family had no money for their dowries; in one version the coins are dropped down a chimney, in another they are placed in the ladies' hanging, drying stockings).

So we observe the day by talking about his life, trying to find ways to give to others, and giving a family present that will provide time together. My wife flies out of town in the morning, so we enjoyed an evening home together making pizza for supper and mixing up some gingerbread to pass on later (plus, the temperatures were dipping into negative temperatures, so we decided to skip Holidaze on 44th, a nearby neighborhood mile-long festival of hayrides, ice carving, hot cocoa, and other fun activities). The gift was a new board game which we played together. 

Yesterday my wife took the boys shopping to finish purchasing a few more objects for the shoe boxes we send overseas through Operation Christmas Child. It's our way of giving to children who wouldn't don't get presents otherwise; hopefully they experience the gift of Jesus as well. The boys and I will deliver those tomorrow to the local collection center (thankfully there's one in the Cities or we would have to prepare way ahead of time).

Hopefully our children learn to keep giving and serving others (as they get older I hope we can fit in some service work during this season). Hopefully they find that giving is a good thing, and that this time of year doesn't have to be filled with materialism. While they enjoy looking at the occasional Target circular we might receive (which is rarely), they don't pour over toy catalogs making lists of things they expect to be given at Christmas. They do get a present under the tree from us on Christmas morning as well as a stocking of smaller treats, but hopefully they are finding that the waiting part of Advent isn't about waiting to open presents. We can only try to instill in them those values at least. 

So may you discover the blessings of a life like St. Nicholas: of following the Christ Child and giving to others.

Advent 1: Waiting (Hope)

Tonight's passage:

Isaiah 2:1-5 (NIV)

1 This is what Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem:

² In the last days

the mountain of the Lord’s temple will be established
    as the highest of the mountains;
it will be exalted above the hills,
    and all nations will stream to it.

³ Many peoples will come and say,

“Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
    to the temple of the God of Jacob.
He will teach us his ways,
    so that we may walk in his paths.”
The law will go out from Zion,
    the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
⁴ He will judge between the nations
    and will settle disputes for many peoples.
They will beat their swords into plowshares
    and their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation will not take up sword against nation,
    nor will they train for war anymore.

⁵ Come, descendants of Jacob,
    let us walk in the light of the Lord.

Waiting. That's the main theme of Advent. It's not an easy one, either. We live in an instant-gratification society. As we lit the candle and read the Advent devotional tonight, my youngest was frustrated that tonight had us put together the background that we'll be putting stickers on rather than getting to put a sticker on tonight. He didn't want to wait one day. So of course that presented an opportunity to talk about the importance of learning to wait.

The Bible is full of waiting. Noah waited over a year for the flood waters to go down. Sarah waited through old age to become a mother.  The Israelites waited for deliverance. Then they waited for the promised land (albeit it was their own fault they couldn't enter right away because of their grumbling). The prophets waited for the Messiah to come and fulfill their prophecies. Mary waited for the Child to be born. John waited for the one whose sandals he was unworthy to untie. The disciples waited to know what to do after Jesus was crucified. We all await His return.

As we look back at those stories, we are given the hope that what was waited for came to pass. Even if what we are waiting for (like the coming Kingdom) seems like it may never arrive, we are given hope knowing it one day will.

Isaiah promises us that there will be a day when the Lord's path is clear and all will know it, and this will bring peace. Clearly we're not there yet. That is the tension we live in. We know that the Kingdom will come, and that it is already here in many ways, but not to the fullest extent of what is promised.

I have those tensions within me. I confess my sin and repent of it, but I still mess up plenty. I know that one day God will transform me completely--that I will be washed as white as snow. But I'm not there yet. I'm not fully made into the likeness of Christ. But I know that one day, God willing, I will be.

We put up our Christmas tree today--much earlier that we usually do (we typically wait until St. Nicholas Day or Santa Lucia Day to do it). My youngest couldn't wait (he really likes to appropriately decorate at celebrations), plus my wife is going to be gone next week. It, along with our advent devotions and candles each night, remind us that Christmas isn't here yet. The world waited for the Messiah to be born. We await His return. The lights on the tree give us hope in the darkness of winter. He will return. We can handle the wait.

Indeed, we live in the waiting. That is where life happens. And the better we learn to wait I think the better we learn to live.


Haiku prayers based on tonight's text:

Advent 4: Hoping

When Hope Was Born

God did love the world so--
So deep I can't comprehend--
That He himself took on flesh
And humbly to earth did bend.

As a frail and needy babe,
He became like us, born of flesh.
God came down, born a man,
Humbly in a lowly crèche.

Within that newborn infant child
Are all love and joy we can find.
For in that crude manger bed
Was born the hope of all mankind.

Without hope the world is dark,
It seems like all is lost;
But all has been ransomed and redeemed,
For Christ's blood has paid the cost.





***

I like the idea of hope. I need the idea of hope.

Each day I see so much despair, hurting, brokenness, and struggle. I know this isn't how it is supposed to be. Each day, I have so many struggles, so many burdens I can't carry. I need the hope that I will be made whole someday.

Pastor Jan mentioned at church tonight that "hope is a function of struggle." Without struggle--without hardships--hope cannot exist. Hope would have no meaning. We've heard before how the struggles of life are good for us. They build things like character, perseverance, and hope. Of course, it matters how we proceed through our struggles. Sometimes we give up. Sometimes we give in. Sometimes we take the easy way out. Not to give us an excuse, but we are human. We don't always do the right thing. I don't always do the right thing.

But the right thing in difficult times is to persevere--to keep on doing the right thing. The right thing is to forge ahead knowing that life isn't meant to be ugly--that someday it will be redeemed, made new and perfect. The right thing is to cling to hope--not in a way that we give up, but in a way that we move ahead. Hope makes us vulnerable. It requires us to give up control. It necessitates that we place our trust in God.

This isn't always easy.  But in return God gives us strength ("but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength" (Isaiah 40:31)). This is why we wait. This is why we struggle through Advent. The newborn King brings us hope. He gives hope. He is hope. In this times of waiting, longing, and struggling, hope keeps us going. Until He returns and hope is fulfilled.

Advent 2: Waiting

It's been snowing all day. It's still going. We have the potential to near 16 inches. Church was cancelled tonight because of it. Our pastor posted a message about longing on the church website so we could "be present" even though we couldn't gather (I haven't gotten to listen to it yet, but I hope to get a chance to in a few minutes).

My wife has been gone all week at a conference in California. It's been a long week. Our oldest son has been under the weather all weekend. Nothing has been bad, but it's been draining. Unfortunately the snow has delayed her flight a little. So I wait a little while more.

Advent is about waiting. We identify with the waiting of God's people for their Messiah to come. We read about Mary and Joseph awaiting the birth of their son, the Christ. We await the return of Jesus. For four weeks, we wait for Christmas to arrive.

I've said before (as well as have others) that it matters how we wait. In waiting for my wife's return this week, I had some successes and some failures. I know I snack more than I need when I feel the stress of taking care of everything by myself. I probably didn't handle all the things with the boys as well as I could have, either. But we also did well at keeping on track: four loads of laundry washed and put away (another in the machine right now), bathrooms cleaned, countless dishes washed, sidewalks shoveled of snow. We celebrated St. Nicholas Day, making cookies and taking them to neighbors. I got our youngest to two birthday parties. We got some gifts for family members. I got to bed at a reasonable time each night, and I reached out to others when I needed. There were things I could have done better, but for the most part I tried to wait well.

We wait for Christ to return. We wait for our brokenness to be healed. We wait to be made whole. We wait for peace. We wait for there to be no more pain, sadness, or sorrow.

We can wait idly; we can wait actively. I think we are called to balance both--just as Christ spent time being and doing. But we can be and do in not-so-healthy ways. The healthy way to be and do as we wait is to keep focused. To keep our eyes on Christ. When we wait in the overflow of His love, we wait well. Our waiting pours out to those we are around. They are touched by that love.

I need to be reminded--sometimes frequently--that how I wait matters. Sometimes I do it poorly. Sometimes I do it well. There is grace and forgiveness, of course, but life is best when in the moment, I am waiting well.

St. Nicholas Day Revised

 My wife is gone all week at a science conference. It'll be a regular thing for the foreseeable future. This means we're revamping our St. Nicholas Day routine as she'll likely be gone this day every year. It works kind of well this year because we're doing a larger family gift instead of a gift on St. Nicholas Day and one on Christmas Day for each of them.

So, last night the boys decided to make cookies to give to neighbors. Unfortunately, we ran out of flour so we only made one batch of spritz cookies. Which made for no variety of cookies. (With my wife gone, I also wouldn't have had much time to make other cookies after they were in bed if we did have more flour.)

Today we bagged up the cookies. The boys made little cards to put in each bag that said "Happy St. Nicholas Day." They had wanted to do it anonymously, dropping off the cookies on their doorstep, ringing the doorbell and running. If we lived back in small town Iowa, we'd do that, but we thought we'd play it safe and let them know who the cookies were from and that they were safe to eat.

Advent is about slowing down and taking the time to reflect. It is the antithesis of the Christmas busyness and consumerism rampant in our society. Truthfully, with my wife gone, making cookies last night added to the busyness of the week. But Advent is also about looking outside ourselves, as well as within. And so we took the time to make some cookies (and the time afterward to clean up a messy kitchen). I think it's just as important to do something like that as it is to take the time to sit with our Advent devotions each night as a family.

******

We did revise one of the cards--Anders drew a Good Friday picture complete with blood dripping from Jesus' wounds. He had realized afterward that it might be the best picture to use with our neighbors...still, it's a good picture. And most of all, I'm proud that they are getting into the spirit, that they know that the giving is the more important than giving, and that Christ is the reason for it all.

They know that St. Nicholas isn't about reindeer, gift lists, and who's naughty and nice. They know he gave to those in need because of his love for God. They might have a little confusion about Santa Claus (mainly because of movies and Christmas specials), but over all they know that Christmas

Advent 1: What if Longing is Good?

Advent. It's here. To some that mean a lot; to others, not so much. In many churches it is a time when we prepare our hearts for Christmas. We recognize the waiting that happened before the Savior came.

At it's heart, Advent is about waiting, and waiting produces longing. Pastor Jan Bros shared at church tonight that in longing we become present with that which is unfinished yet in ourselves and in the world. That celebrating Advent is only possible for those who are aware of their brokenness. That since God is already aware of the longing in our heart, we are able to enter into the darkness of longing and know He is present.

I often run from longing. Longing for something produces discomfort. It often comes with ache. And I know that the things I long for aren't going to happen in the immediate future (at least not in their fullness): being on a vocational path, having obedient children, being a good father, being a good husband, having a good marriage, having brokenness healed, being whole, the fulfillment of hopes and dreams. Some of these will come over time...others will be along wait. But when those places of longing are accompanied with waiting (which is most of the time), I tend to repress my acknowledgment of the longing I have.

But what if God were present in the longing? Would I be able to face it? Because, of course, He is present there. Pastor Jan noted that in being present to our longing, our hearts become a manger of prayer. We make a place for God to dwell, and we turn to Him for the fulfillment of our longing aches. Indeed, the ache becomes a place of contact with God.

Part of Advent is acknowledging the longing of waiting for Christ to return. I wonder if I don't long deep enough for His return because I am too comfortable in this world (though it's not true comfort--there's plenty of needless pain and hurt--but more familiarity that comfortableness). I think that one of the things longing does--longing for justice, longing for restoration, longing for peace--is that it keeps me focused on Christ and being ready for His return.

So I'm going to give longing a try this week. I'm going to try to acknowledge the aches rather than ignore them. I'm going to try to acknowledge God's presence as a light in the darkness and talk with Him about those places of longing.

Somehow, even in the midst of the scariness of doing that, I think it'll be a much better start to the Advent season than making lists of wants,  spending time shopping, or rushing to and from events.

Of Children, Frustration, And Shoeboxes

I've been having plenty of frustrating moments with Nils lately. Not a lot, but enough to know that I am not always responding in the best ways. He does a lot of not-listening. He does a fair amount of outright disobeying. He does a large amount of dawdling. Today after 10 minutes, he did not have is shoes on, and don't often have the time to sit and make sure he's doing what he's supposed to be doing, nor do I have the permission to always be late to places like work. Maybe all of this is normal for six-year olds. I really hope not.

I know I'm not responding well. His actions frustrate me more than they should. And I know he's hearing way too much negative things from my mouth than he should, too.

I was reflecting at church tonight that my focus is off. I am frustrated because he's not obeying. And that's legitimate is many ways, but I realized I don't want a kid who just obeys (as nice as that may be). There will be times in his life where he shouldn't obey--times when he needs to stand up against his peers, stand up for what is right, stand up for justice. And obedience is just an action. It's something we train dogs to do. I'm not a trainer; I'm a parent.

What I need to refocus my desire on with my children is love. That's really what I want. I want them to love me. I want them to love others. I want them to love God. Now, obedience is typically an outcome of love--but it's not the main goal. So what I need to focus on is teaching my son to love. I can't do that by getting impatient at him or yelling at him. I can do that through being patient and sowing more words of affirmation and blessing than I do frustration.

* * * * *

Today the boys and I finished making purchases and putting together shoeboxes with toys, toiletries, and clothes to send to children overseas for Christmas (and, ironically yes, the yelling over the shoe dawdling episode occurred as we were trying to leave to do this). It's something we've been doing the past three years as part of our Advent "routine" to instill a greater sense of benevolence within the boys. We want to stress that Christmas isn't about commercialism and making lists of toys we want. As they get older, I hope we can do things like volunteering at a soup kitchen.

So, we're taking conscious efforts to teach our children to love and think beyond themselves. I just need to show, model, and do it more. Children everywhere need to hear words of love spoken to them far more times than words of anger, frustration, or even impatience. Of course, "out of the heart, the mouth speaks." So the important thing to do when dealing with my children is to make sure I'm building up my heart with the same things that I want to come out of my mouth. I want to speak words of love, patience, and affirmation to my children; I need to make sure my heart is abundant with those ideas.

Joseph Said Yes

Betrothed to a young girl, Joseph hoped that his work as a carpenter would be sufficient to support a new family. We know little about Joseph's life. He is barely mentioned in the Bible--only Luke and Matthew name him. Joseph never speaks. What little we speculate on comes from church tradition and legend.

He was possibly a widower (those who believe Mary was forever a virgin say that Jesus' brothers were from Joseph's previous marriage). As it was it is likely Joseph was likely at least twice Mary's age. One apocryphal church tradition says Joseph was about 90 when Jesus was born, living to be 111. Frankly, that's a bit weird to think that Mary would be betrothed to a man that old. But regardless of Joseph's age, his plans were about to change.

He had just been told by his fiancee that she was pregnant. It clearly wasn't his. Joseph loved her, but he knew the Law said not to go through with this. He didn't want her hurt, though. He didn't want her disgraced, publicly humiliated, or stoned to death, which was what was required according to the law. So he intended to do it quietly, preserving Mary's dignity as much as possible. I think his actions and intent point to Joseph being a class-act. Other men would have had her stoned. No one would have married a pregnant woman; to do so would have been to incriminate yourself as having defiled her before marriage. Out of love, Joseph wanted to keep everything quiet so that Mary didn't have to suffer.

But then that night an angel tells Joseph in a dream not to divorce Mary, but to go ahead and marry her, raising the child as her own. Joseph could have shrugged the dream off as having eaten too much spicy lamb a little to close to bed time, but he believes it. And he says yes. He agrees to become the earthly father of the Son of God.

I can't imagine the pressure on Joseph. How could he ever live up to being a good father when Jesus knew the Heavenly Father intimately? How could he pass on his carpentry skills to his son, who just so happened to have created the world? How could he love and discipline and raise the One who would save all people from their sins?

Saying yes didn't make his life easy. It doesn't make our lives easy, either. Never trust a minister who tells you that your life will be happier, more prosperous or safe if you accept Jesus as your Savior. Because it won't. Joseph would tell you that as he had to go on the run with his new family to escape Herod's murderous intent. Mary would tell you that as she stood at the foot of the cross.

But they would also tell you that saying yes to God can change the world. It may not always be easy, but it is good in the purest sense of the word (remember Mr. Beaver's description of Aslan in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe? "Of course he's not safe, but he's good).

I don't like living next to drug dealers whose garbage is constantly strewn around my house. But I also believe that my saying yes to God means that I'm supposed to love them (and frankly, sometimes love means calling the cops). I don't like that the packages with Christmas presents that were delivered last week weren't on my porch when I got home. But when we said yes to God, He asks that we be light in dark places. I don't like having to forgive the person who had done me wrong, but if I say yes to God's forgiveness I must also forgive.

Joseph said yes, despite all the possible consequences, and I can't help but believe that Jesus' life was shaped in some way by having Joseph as His earthly father.

Mary Said Yes

Our text at church on this final Sunday of Advent (how quickly even the long-ness of waiting can go!) was from Luke 1: 26-38. The angel Gabriel visits Mary and says, "Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you" (verse 28, TNIV).

This in itself is shocking. We have no biblical account of angels showing up since the days of Daniel. Nearly every time an angel does appear to someone, their response is fear. Angels aren't cutesy beings--they are awe-inspiring and fear-inducing. So when one appears to a lowly teenage girl from the streets of Nazareth, we can assume Mary was probably a bit frightened.

And to have an angel tell you that you are highly favored, one can understand why Mary would be "greatly troubled at his words" (v. 29, TNIV) and wonder what this means. She's got to be thinking, "Uh, oh, this can't be good...what does God have up His sleeves now?"

And then Gabriel tells her that even though she's a virgin, she's going to have a child. Not just any child. Mary is to become the mother of "the Son of the Most High" (v. 32). He will sit on David's throne, ruling over the house of Jacob for all eternity. Mary knows that the angel is referring to the Messiah: the Savior whom the Scriptures foretold would come, bringing a kingdom of justice and righteousness.

So here's an unwed teenage girl, being told that God would like her to become the mother of His Son--the Anointed Saving King. There's a lot of pressure in knowing that. There are a lot of feelings of inadequacy. There is fear, confusion and probably even denial going on.

Mary can turn her back on the angel and say, "No way! I'm not worthy and I'm certainly not ready for that to happen." She has that option. But she is open to God's will. So she asks how all this can be possible since she has never slept with a man.

So the angel tells her that it will come about through the Holy Spirit. As evidence that the miraculous can happen, Gabriel tells Mary that her elderly cousin is beginning her third trimester of pregnancy. He assures Mary that what ever God says will happen won't fail.

So Mary, clearly full of humility for a teenager, simply says, "I am the Lord's servant. May it be to me according to your word." Clearly, there is something special about this girl.

But even saying yes to God does not mean things will be easy...or perfect. An unwed mother faced stoning at the worst; at the very least shunning and life-long ridicule for her son. Saying yes could have meant death. But she does it anyway.

Mary doesn't know what lies ahead. She doesn't know that she'll be alone with only Joseph in a unfamiliar city when the labor pains hit. She doesn't know that she'll give birth in a barn, surrounded by livestock and their manure. She doesn't know that her family will have to flee to a foreign land as essentially illegal immigrants in order to escape Herod's murderous plot against baby boys. She doesn't know that she will see her son beaten and killed in the most cruel fashion. It is not an easy road that lies ahead of Mary. She may have been better off saying "no".

But she said yes. And the world was changed because of her decision. And despite all the trials and hardships, I believe Mary--one who treasured and pondered things in her heart--would say that she lived a good life. Not a safe life, but a good life.

May I be willing to say yes to God as well.