Drawing Fierce Battle Lines: Merry Christmas v. Happy Holidays
During the mid-nineties, I was preaching for a congregation in a town near the Smokey Mountains. Prior to the days of Matthew, Taylor was a small girl and Jonathan was a baby. In the community where Cile and I bought our first home, a neighbor set out a nativity scene in their front yard. The house was close enough to walk to and easy access to drive by on the way home from church. Taylor passionately asked each time we neared the home for us to drive by and see Baby Jesus. Most of the time, we complied with her wishes.
I never owned an outdoor nativity scene, and I was taught that displaying such a scene (nearly?) violated Scripture. Cile did collect, piece-by-piece, the Willow Tree Nativity Scene which she displays in our home year round. I do own an inexpensive Peanuts Gang nativity scene. But in the mid-nineties we had neither.
About this time a rumor was circling through town that the local principalities were talking about banning all nativity scenes and Christmas messages. Some were saying that the ban only applied to public properties while others believed it was going to be mandated to personal homes as well. The rumors were fueling the discussions. The topic was so strong that one Sunday evening, I stood before the congregation and proclaimed, “I may not care whether or not a nativity scene is displayed, but if they ban them, I will be the first to display one in my yard.” I was bold in drawing my line in the sand, almost as brave as Don Quixote fighting his windmills.
The truth is no local or State legislation was coming down the pipeline to curtail religious decorations at Christmas time. Sure, the prayer before football games were being challenged in courts. True, some of the retail giants began marketing “traditional Christmas” items as “Holiday” items. But to my knowledge, no one was legislating such changes. The debate and controversy seemed to have risen as if someone created a conflict just so they could prop themselves up as a “voice of reason.”
Enter the debate between “Merry Christmas” and “Happy Holidays,” and let the battle lines be drawn.
For people of faith, this has been a contentious topic of conversation. Some believe that “Merry Christmas” should always be used over “Happy Holidays” since Christmas is about Christ. Others are concerned about the secularization of the season and its drive for consumerism; “holiday” sounds like consumers on a vacation. An informed Biblical approach may actually surprise you.
First, neither “Christmas” nor “Holiday” is mentioned in the Bible. Obviously, Christ is in the Bible, especially as Matthew and Luke spend considerable amount of time exploring his birth (by the way John goes straight to incarnational theology, “The Word became flesh and lived among us” [Jn.1:14]). As far as holiday goes, every feast in the Bible is placed in a context of dedication to God. From Sabbath to Passover to Jubilee to Hanukkah (see Jn. 10:22-23) each feast was set aside as holy for God. So while “Christmas” and “Holiday” are not in the Bible, their presence casts a long shadow on the Biblical narrative.
Secondly, the meaning of the words, “Christmas” and “Holiday” are rooted in the religious only to sprout secularized meaning over time. Crowding into the stores (prior to COVID) to get the best deals for Christmas presents doesn’t sound very sanctifying, but does look like a sellout to marketing and consumerism (no matter which phrase is used). Forgotten is that the Christ-Mas was originally a specific church service to honor Jesus with a feast (i.e., communion). On the other hand Holiday wasn’t a vacation by the Brits or a marketing ploy for American consumers, but a Holy-Day set aside for God. Thus, Christmas is a holiday or the Christ-Mas is a Holy-Day.
So if we really want to redeem Christmas and transform it from the secular into the sacred, let’s stop arguing over words/phrases not found in the Bible. Be at peace with either phrase. Instead, let’s honor Christ on this holy day and do what Jesus did best. Let’s forsake the power grab and serve our neighbors. Let’s feed the hungry, heal the sick, free the captives, calm the (inner) storms, instill hope for the hopeless and forgive the debts. And in our kindness, wish warmly the people we encounter, whoever they are, “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holy-days,” because as Christians, that’s what we do best.
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)
Having Nothing * Possessing Everything
Jars of Clay
Family Ties: Somewhere Between “Too Much” & “Not Enough”
Families shape individual identity, provide a safe and secure environment for growth, and help nurture faith. Unfortunately, families can also disfigure an individual’s identity through a distorted reality by exposing members to dangerous environments which destroy faith. Where the family is supposed to be a haven, sometimes the best and safest move is step away from that family. Saul’s son, Jonathan, pivoted away from his family and by doing so, stepped into righteousness.
The first King of Israel was Saul, and his son, Jonathan, was heir to the throne. This man was gifted, godly and full of goodness. We remember Jonathan for two events that defined his character. First, he was loyal to David, defending his honor even before his father (1 Sam. 20:32-34). Not only was he willing to protect David, but he was just as free to sacrifice his future spot on the throne to serve under David’s rule (1 Sam. 23:17). Secondly, Jonathan ate honey against his father’s commands (1 Sam. 14:24-30). Not only had Jonathan violated the king’s edict, but he called out his father’s own foolishness for the imposed mandate (1 Sam. 14:29-30).
Jonathan demonstrated an ability to differentiate himself from his family or his father, exercising a skill many people lack.
Psychologists tell us that most family dynamics hold the extremes. On one side families are enmeshed with each other by living in the “too much.” The unit is so tightly woven that individuals lose their own identity to the larger family. No one is allowed to make their own decisions or to speak with their own voice. If a child is sick, then everyone has to be present for support. Your business is everyone’s business.
On the other side families are disengaged with each other by living in the “not enough.” They don’t have enough time for each other. Long dry spells where members fail to speak to each other occur. When they do speak, it quickly escalates into shouting matches. Decisions are made without consideration for the larger family. If someone in the family unit is sick, no one else will know about it. And even if people did know, they don’t care about the family enough to show concern. Everyone is on their own.
Somewhere in the middle, between this “too much” and “not enough,” is the person and/or family that is able to differentiate between enmeshment and disengagement. They fit into the family unit without sacrificing their individual identity. They understand their place in the family without infringing on their own vision and dreams for themselves. As time changes and people mature, so is the willingness to allow roles in the family to grow and develop as well.
While it’s nearly impossible to impose psychology on people or families in the Bible – we usually don’t have enough information – it’s clear that Jonathan was anything but enmeshed with his father. He was able to separate himself from the paternal negative influence, while seemingly able to maintain a healthy relationship with him. While he never burned his bridges to Saul, he never blindly followed because he was the King or his father. Where he needed to, he challenged his father in his motive with David or in endangering the men around him in battle.
Jonathan models something for us in our families and in our church families. Healthy relationships means we can lean on each other and know that we have the physical, emotional and spiritual support needed to survive a difficult world. We also have the confidence to be ourselves by choosing what is right.
Most families and church families struggle to reach that balance. A lack of trust leads to control issues, rule-making and discouraging any form of free thinking because it’s viewed as a threat. Or in the other extreme boundaries are violated on a regular basis so as no one is emotionally invested in anyone anymore. Neither places are healthy for families or for church families.
Maybe we should take our cues from God and Jesus. Look at the relationship between the two and the freedom with the connection they held together. Then look at the way they related to humanity. They care enough to call and chase after humanity, even pleading for us to come back them. But they never use guilt, coercion or manipulation to dictate the relationship. They always allowed free choice to drive the relationship. Always. It’s harder. It’s messier. But it lies somewhere between “too much” and “not enough.”
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)
Down for the Count?
From Comforted To Comforting
Everyone Has a Story: But Is It a Story Worth Telling?
Everyone has a story. We shape it early in life, not only in our experiences, but even more so in how we frame the telling. It doesn’t take long for the disclosing of our story to begin shaping our identity. We’re either the smartest person in the room or we feel we have a low IQ. We’re either athletic or lack the necessary coordination skills. We’re either popular or we’re rejected. We’re either the bully or the one being bullied. How we craft our story often reflects how we engage with life.
Such experiences not only shape the story we tell about ourselves but it also bleeds into our relationship with God. The result is a spiritual polarization and a distorted telling of our story. For instance, some feel they deserve God’s salvation and believe their worthy of his relationship. Others feel like God hates them. For the arrogant it’s probably a front for feelings of unworthiness; in the deep crevices of their minds God really is angry and disappointed in them.
One man had a story he told time and time again. When he woke up in the morning, he looked in the mirror and rehearsed his lines, “I know you’re a hard man,” When he engaged his friends, he practiced his speech, “I know he harvests where he has not sown.” As he hung out with his fellow workers, he bounced his ideas off of them, “I know he gathers where he does not scatter seeds.” And at the end of the day, he looked in the mirror one more time, uttering, “That’s why I was afraid. So I hid the money in the ground” (Mt. 25:24-25).
At every turn the feedback was positive and encouraging. As he shared his story, his narrative was reinforced by those listening. They patted him on the back. They supported and fortified his telling. They agreed and believed his story was their story. With every telling his confidence in the story grew. He delivered his lines flawlessly like he was sure to win an academy award. He was ready for his final performance.
The curtain call came. He was to perform before an audience of one.
His master had returned from a far journey. The servants were now to give an account of their dealings. The master wanted to hear their stories while he was away on business. One by one they came and told their success stories. They were great stories too. Whether they had five or two sums of money didn’t matter, they had woven a beautiful story of faithfulness, doubling his investment, which made their master beam with pride. He loved their stories.
Then came the last man. He stood before the master and delivered his lines with the boldness and smoothness he’d practiced. His telling was technically flawless. But his story garnered the opposite effect of what he hoped. Expecting to be praised or forgiven, the master wanted anything but an encore. He saw the servant for what really was, wicked and lazy. If he was scared, and if the master was as shrewd as he supposed, then depositing the money for interests was far more honorable than digging a hole for the money. Doing something, and even failing, was better than doing nothing at all. He fired the servant and had him thrown to the street (Mt. 25:26-27).
The cataclysmic failure of this man’s storytelling was wrong on so many levels. He had a wrong view of his master. Even if his view of the master was accurate, his actions failed to line up with his views. Also, his story was so very wrong. While he waxed eloquently among his peers, holding them spell-bound in his hands, the master cut through smoke calling him out for what he was: slothful and evil. Having bought into the wrong story, the end result was devastating. And where were his those friends now who validated his words so many times?
Everyone has a story. We spin it. We tell it. We sell it. As the words flow from our lips the rationale we use sounds right. Our friends nod in agreement as they endorse our words. The more we tell our story, the more we believe our words and the more it begins to shape our lives. But when the story distorts God by villainizing him, or the story shapes the teller into the hero by justifying pride, arrogance or sinful behavior then the story needs to come to an end. For, just because everyone has a story doesn’t mean it’s a story worth telling.
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)