Christmas: Sacrifice, Submission and Giving

"Sacrifice" is probably not one of those words you'll see printed on a Christmas ornament. Neither is "submission," or "demoralizing," or "obedience" -- concepts that rarely come to mind while staring into a Christmas creche. But, sacrifice is the very essence of Christmas.

The coming of God to Earth was a tremendous gift. Emmanuel, God with us, come to give His life for all. Sacrifice. But that life began long before a Babe's first gasp or a bar mitzvah, or a public ministry; Jesus sacrificed His life the moment He left His glory, His kingdom in heaven for the dark warmth of a young mother's womb.

The King of kings elected to lie in a feeding trough and be lauded by simple shepherds. Jesus chose to have His bottom cleaned and His nose wiped. He submitted to rules about jumping on the furniture, and eating vegetables, and curfews. Luke 2:51, says He obeyed Joseph and Mary. Do you think they got it right every time? Were they too hard on Him at times? Did they ever opt to "just skip synagogue and sleep in"? How would He have felt, knowing He needed to be in His Father's house, but was instead being told to get back to bed? Do you think Joseph and Mary never found themselves down to their last nerve? But Jesus submitted. He subjected Himself to physical limitations and fatigue, the stomach flu, back-breaking work, difficult neighbors, cancellations and rescheduled appointments, hunger and poverty. And what of Jesus' half-siblings? Oh, the jealousy He must have experienced! The drama at family dinners and special celebrations!

Jesus was "taught" Scripture -- by men! Imagine Shakespeare taking your community college's Lit course, or Mozart sitting through a sixth-grade music class. But Jesus submitted to men's authority. He partook of feasts and watched -- up close and personal -- the idolatry of His people, exchanging love for God, for a love of rules and ceremony. How He must have wept to hear their bitter talk of waiting so long for deliverance and their cynicism toward a God whose timetable was not their own. But He chose this existence among us. For me. For us all.

He endured arrogance and ignorance, people in bondage who cried out for help but refused to leave their circumstances; betrayal and judgment. He lavished love on those who would later cry out, "Crucify Him." He never once spoke out in haste or frustration against inconsiderate neighbors. He never chose entitlement over servitude, despite His being fully, undeniably entitled. He gave up all of Himself -- His "self" -- to be God With Us.

As Christmas nears, let us not forget true giving, the kind of giving that instills this season with its meaning. Giving obediently. Giving humbly. Giving sacrificially.

Mary Remembered

"Christmas is right around the corner", my mother used to say, a veiled warning to be good lest Santa bounce right over the rubber roof of our little row home. Now, I'm thinking about the upcoming holiday, and all it means to me as a believer. So much more than just "be good." I'm not dreading the threat of a Christmas morning wasteland beneath a tinsel-draped dying fir, as I did when I was a child. I'm thinking about the holiday, the holy day.

Christmas is an occasion to remember, and we all need opportunities to remember. We celebrate anniversaries and birthdays and gotcha days to recall important days in our lives, and celebrate the lives of those we honor or the paths we've traveled since that day. It's an important human function to commemorate. I think that might be why Luke tells us twice, Mary locked away the memories of Jesus' birth and His youth, deep within her heart.

I have a favorite holiday memory. My son was, maybe, eight-years old. We had been visiting family in South Philly, and dared not leave the area without a visit to one of the local bakeries. Having completed that ceremony, we stopped for coffee to prepare for the ride home. An elderly woman stood outside the store, shivering in the blustery cold. Steven begged me to give her the blanket from the trunk. As I opened the lid, he saw the rolls we'd just purchased. "Can we give her some of these, too?" I saw my son's heart that day, so kind and gentle; but so vulnerable to anyone who wanted to take advantage.

Mary had given birth to the King of kings, the Messiah, the Lord of all lords. But to the mother in her, He was Jesus, her little boy. How she must have feared for Him! In His kindness, in His gentleness, she had to have known there would be those who would take advantage of Him. She had to have yearned to keep Him close to her forever, to protect His innocence from those who would plot evil against Him. To watch Him grow and begin His ministry, healing and lavishing love on the "greatest of sinners", while the vipers stood closely by, waiting to shame and devour Him -- how her heart must have ached!

But, in her pain, in the darkest of days, she would remember. She would remember the shepherds arriving dirty from the field and out of breath from their haste, eager to see that which the Lord had made known to them. She would remember the wonder on their faces, and the excitement coursing throughout Bethlehem and the surrounding regions, as the shepherds testified to what they had seen. She would remember the fear she felt as, twelve years later, she and Joseph searched frantically through crowded streets for her boy. She would remember the words He spoke, and smile with understanding so many years later. He was so wise and confident, this child of hers, but He was His Father's Son. He had only wanted to help, to save them and teach them about the One who had sent Him. All the good He did sprung from a heart that served His Father and truly loved others.

And how they would repay this boy of hers. A man, now in His thirties, but still a boy to His mother. Hanging from a tree, condemned to death for truth, for love. Why didn't He defend Himself? Why didn't all of heaven come to save Him? But in the space of three days, she would come to know. In the space of three days she would come to remember her son in a new way. By bread and wine. Not just her son, but her Savior.

This Christmas, remember. Teach your children that being good is right, but being truly kind and gentle toward others comes from a heart filled with love, the love of Christ our Savior and Lord.

Getting Your Socks Wet

I call this photo, "Relationship."

It was raining cats and dogs. Though the morning was unseasonably warm, afternoon storms had brought with them winds and much colder air. It was just after 2 pm, when I saw the taillights of my husband's truck refracted by the deluge, and creeping into the backyard. Large puddles had collected in the grass, the dirt path around our stepping stones had become a river of mud, and the deck was holding more water than I'd ever thought possible. Everything about the scene gave me to sigh with relief; we were all in for the day, cozy and warm. The family room had become gloomy with the departure of sunny skies, and I turned to flip the light on for Mom. Just then, I heard it, a voice choked with astonishment:

"What are you doing?! Get back in that house!"

That quickly our grandson had exploded out the backdoor, across the deck and straight onto the banks of Mud River. Bad enough he had no jacket. Bad enough he had not stopped to ask. But this little man was in his stocking feet, running full tilt, and screaming, "POPPI!!!" as loud as his lungs would allow.

Hence, the sopping wet socks which hang, more than a day later, drying on the laundry cart. Abandon, reckless abandon. Excitement. Fervor. Impulse which could have sent him gliding across a slick deck. Disregard for comfort, or well-being, or convention; not a split-second pause to consider what he was doing, or carefully step onto what could be treacherous terrain. A completely spontaneous, unbridled, even excessive response to the presence of his Poppi, the one with whom he longs to work side-by-side. His friend was home, nothing would stop him, and he met him with all he had.

I'm thinking, if my relationship with Jesus hasn't yielded a pair or two of sopping wet socks, maybe it's time.

Most Thankful

Are you thinking about gratitude or blessings today? Maybe you're thinking about turkey and stuffing, or uncomfortable moments with your mother-in-law. But, it's Thanksgiving, the day we are all supposed to be happy and thankful; the day we all say, "We should be thankful everyday." And then go out and get into it with someone over a parking spot on Black Friday. (Or, maybe, we're struggling to make it past dessert without a conflict.)

It seems appropriate we begin the holiday season with a day of thanks-giving. After all, Christmas, the coming of Jesus to mankind is one of the most significant events for which we should be thankful. Without Christmas, there'd be no Easter; without Easter, there'd be little reason for Christmas. And Thanks-giving? Well, that is where Christmas and Easter converge.

2 Corinthians 5:19 tells us:

"...God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and has committed to us the word of reconciliation."

We were out there! I mean, we had broken relationship with the very One who designed us, created us, and has a plan for us, as individuals and humanity in general! We wanted nothing to do with a faithful, loving God. Why? All kinds of reasons. Fear, self-centeredness, a rebellious nature, bitterness -- you name it. So, we separated. In Christ, by His coming to humanity (Christmas), God gave us a glimpse of who He is. In Christ, by His suffering in agony and dying on a cross for humanity(Easter), God gave us a clear picture of what He was willing to do to have us back.

Additionally, all that stuff we did while we rebelled against our Creator? All that stuff we still do, and will do in the moments of fear and self-centeredness and rebellion and bitterness and more, that grip us even now? He doesn't hold any of it against us. Any of it!

Lastly, we are free to tell everyone what has been done for us and for them. We are encouraged to tell everyone what has been done for us and for them. We are made responsible to tell everyone what has been done for us and for them. In a way that is special to how God made us. Back when we were living our lives for ourselves, rebelling and being self-centered, apart from God? We were carrying with us all along, the interests, experiences and abilities God gave us that we might serve Him once we were reconciled! Were you born with a beautiful voice? As you experience more fully all God has done for you, you may begin to realize your love of music was given to you that you might praise Him before hundreds in song. Have you always been curious about nature? As you walk more closely with Jesus, you might walk with your children through nature, explaining to them the intricacies of God's creation. Or maybe your difficult childhood has made you "perfect" for helping troubled kids. God created each of us to tell others in some way, what His love has done.

And if we, celebrate Christmas fully knowing and embracing what was accomplished at Easter, our eyes will be opened to the reconciliation, forgiveness and empowerment given to us. And it is with overflowing gratitude we will greet everyone on Thanksgiving Day, and every day.

Happy Thanksgiving!