The Legend of Christmas

Once upon a time two thousand years ago, or so legend has it, in a little town of Bethlehem, a baby was born.  Pure and innocent, the baby was wrapped in pure white swaddling clothes that smelled like fresh lemon and laid in a pristine manger in a well-kept and sanitary barn, because there was no room for his family in the local inn.  The very night of his birth, the baby was visited by three wise men from Afar.  They presented him gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.  And there were some animals and angels in there somewhere, too.  Oh, and shepherds.  Can't forget the shepherds.

Nowadays people celebrate the birth of this baby boy, who I guess grew up and did some stuff (I think he told people to be nice, except when it wasn't convenient or they didn't want to), by giving each other gifts on Christmas.  We also put up lights on our houses and write letters to each other.  Some people even go to church on Christmas Eve, I guess out of obligation or because it makes them feel good.  But mainly we all get stuff.  

Getting stuff: The true meaning of Christmas.  Or maybe it's connecting with friends and family.  Putting up lights, perhaps?  Wait, didn't I say something about a baby?  Man, am I confused.

And that is the legend of Christmas.  

As we perform all of the traditions of Christmas, let's remember what we are celebrating: The birth of the Son of God, who came to make things right again.

Politics of Politics.

I have to be honest.  I am getting sick of politics*.  Every political campaign brings a fresh battery of negative or deceitful ads assaulting my eyes, ears and soul.  Republicans are criticized because they are Republican; Democrats because they are Democrat.  So-and-so had a child out of wedlock.  So-and-so voted to starve old people.  "George Bush is stupid." (Wow, what enlightening political commentary that is.)  

I serve an omnipotent God who concerns Himself with redeeming men's and women's souls.  He is fighting a battle with eternal ramifications.  The laws of any nation are words are here today, gone tomorrow.  

I am a committed Christian, and all my life I have been told that responsible Christians vote.  I am a registered voter, and I do vote.  I become less apt to do so with each passing day.  I hate the divisive nature of politics.  I hate the attitudes and actions of the power-mongers who populate the governing bodies.  I don't see it getting better anytime soon.

Here is my question: Why should I be concerned about our nation's political scene, as a Christian (my allegiance is to Christ first)?  If being involved in politics can be a good and moral activity, how so?  In other words, why should I care about our government when there are people within my sphere whose lives I can make better?

I want to be a follower of Christ in this country.  I need a little help on this one.

*I am speaking of state and national politics, not so much local politics.

Taking a Deep Sigh of Relief.

PHEW.  Finally, the end of the semester.  After taking a year off from seminary, I went back to school this Fall.  This time around, however, I am also working full-time.  I learned a few things about the experience this semester (which, alas, I will repeat twice more):

• (40 hours of work/week + 6 hours of class time/week + 6-8 hours of study time/week)*16 weeks = 1 brain-dead zombie.
• Seminary does not necessarily bring one closer to God.  In fact, it is my experience that the opposite can be true.  
• There is a half-way house for people with psychological issues right next to the seminary.  There is also a road connecting the two places.  It is there for a reason.
• During my year away, Denver Seminary did not cease to be a difficult place to complete a master's degree.  Being in my fourth year, the actual content of my classes is now pretty easy.  I've been doing it long enough that it's just variations on a theme.  However, the workload is still trying at times, especially for someone with a job and a family.
• Seminary does not help a person to be physically healthy.  Proper diet and exercise falls prey to staring at the wall while pretending to read.  
• Strangely enough, I believe I learned more while not in seminary than while in it.  I think this has something to do with the difference between reading what I want to read and reading what I have to read.  Also, this is evidence that the seminary is doing what it is supposed to--mold its students into life-long learners.

I still think Denver Seminary is an excellent institution, and I know that going there has and will continue to prepare me for vocational ministry.  Also, I would still encourage anyone who wants to be challenged to go there.  But know this--I'm going to throw one heck of a party when I'm done!

Makes Sense to Me...

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The Pleasure of a Good Book

There's just something about books. I love the experience of reading a book. The feel of the cover, the rustling of pages. The smell of ink and paper (and maybe even a highlighter). There are the pricey textbooks, with their glossy pages, whose shininess is a foe to be reckoned with when attempting to read under adequate lighting. I haven't seen a true textbook in years, thank God. Dry as kindling but sparking knowledge if the reader is disciplined enough. I can't tell you how many textbooks I only read halfway. Then there are the cheaply printed variety of books. The reward for paying them attention is a black thumb and smudge marks in the margins, and perhaps a dog-eared page here and there, and a broken spine. I try never to break a spine or disfigure a page, although some of the longer books are almost impossible not to injure (City of God, for one). Some books I highlight and mark all over; others are much too sacred. I think my Greek New Testament only has one verse underlined, and that done with a light pencil stroke.

Each book contains a bit of paradise--a sanctuary of the mind. They are time machines: Copleston's A History of Philosophy, Vol 1 transports me to ancient Greece; The Abolition of Man transports me to the present and future--as though I were a visitor from the past. They are precious jewels, if one is willing to search for them. They are new worlds to be explored from the comfort of one's living room! They were died for in the past--scarce and sacred. They are at our fingertips now by the millions--omnipresent and overlooked.

People wonder when the book will become obsolete. I hope never. The tactile experience of a book is much too precious to be lost, and it can never be replaced by technology.

Give me a book, and I will be happy.