I have to admit that I love this time of year. I love pretty much everything about Xmas, with the exception of fruitcake, eggnog, and trying to figure out that last Xmas gift.

Perhaps my favorite part is listening or singing Xmas songs. I like pretty much all the carols/hymns-with the exception of “Lo’ How a Rose Er’ Blooming-and several other non traditional songs by The Chieftans and Amy Grant.

But to say I like Xmas songs is almost like saying I like dogs. I like many dogs. But some dogs I don’t care for (I’ll not put the names down in case you have one on the most hated list). Same with Xmas songs.

But one Xmas song I hate is “Jingle Bell Rock.” That would be my least favorite. Dumb tune, dumb lyrics, dumb idea. But I would like to hear from you. What are your least favorite Xmas songs or song? Please feel free to post anonymously; most do anyway. I’d like to hear some other opinions, so I’ll lend you my proverbial ear.

Each year, on the first Sunday of December, our youth group goes caroling. We did this at my last youth group in South Carolina, even though the kids hated it.

Down here its a little different. We actually had two new faces to join us in jubilant song. We don’t do this to make ourselves feel good (even though there is great joy as we sing of Christ in a place which needs to hear him sung), but because God does care about the fatherless/widows/the oppressed (Psalm 68). So we read that verse right before we began practicing the songs.

This year we tried to have a little more interaction than in previous years. We started in the dining hall with several numbers and then did a little “M & M” (Meeting and Mingling). It was a beautiful site to see our youth go out in teams of two’s and three’s (don’t worry they weren’t wearing white shirts, black ties, black paints, backpacks, and elder name tags) and talk with these folks. To a man/woman, the residents were INCREDIBLY thankful we were there.

Afterwards we traveled upstairs and downstairs caroling through the hallway. We would stop after several songs and do some more “M & M.” Once again it was a beautiful site to see youth care for those who have no one.

Amy and I, and a few of the little one’s (that’s why I call the Jr. High’s) went in to a room with lovely lady who had lost her husband and was really struggling. She said that hearing us sing and having us come in and pray with her (our 7th grader offered the prayer-I was stoked about that!) blessed her greatly. Afterwards, since the rest of the group had already moved on, we offered her a special guest performance. It sounded terrible in real time, but in the ears of this lady, it was beautiful.

She claimed that it made her day to know that she was not forgotten. That someone did care. And someone does. Christ our God does care for widows/orphans/oppressed. And that is why caroling at nursing homes will always be a part of our Xmas festivities. When we have kids of our own, we’ll do it again. But until then, I’ll be taking others kids.

I would highly encourage you to grab a small group and go caroling at a nursing home near you. If you can’t sing (meaning you can’t get enough folks-they think anything sounds good!), just go and talk. The activities director will be glad to ‘squeeze you in.’ And like Cheers, “They’re always glad you came.”

One of my job descriptions at the church is to foster outreach among our members. I’m only one person so I can only reach (at the most) as many as one person can reach. Far more productive would be members desiring to reach friends, neighbors, and co-workers. So I’ve encouraged many our members at Hope to begin to build deeper relationships with such people; in other words, I’ve asked people to simply make some more friends with folks who don’t have a church home.

As relationships are formed, conversations regarding things more important than football or fishing will eventually come up unprovoked. They will come up naturally. And that is the ‘pitch’ I’ve been ‘selling.’

I’ve become good friends with a guy I met working out one day. We now workout together several times a week. But up until last week, we had never really had any ‘spiritual’ conversation. It just hadn’t happened, and I was beginning to wonder why nothing had happened; I was questioning my own sales pitch.

However last week that all changed, and he brought it up. We got to talk about some meaningful stuff. Church, protestant/Catholic questions, books read, spiritual background, etc… I prayed regularly for opportunities and after 6 months or so, just a month before he’ll be leaving the state to take another job, the ice finally cracked. I was stoked.

At the very least I made a friend: a friend who will probably be coming to church to hear me preach. Hopefully we’ll get some more chances to talk. But regardless, making friends with unbelievers will put us in opportunities where we’ll eventually be used to express the truth. It may take a while, but it will happen if we pray and put ourselves in such situations.

Most of you, regardless of whether or not you’re a sports fan, have heard of the death of Sean Taylor. He played Safety for the Washington Redskins.

Since football players are not afforded the normal opportunity to go to church, many attend chapel. Apparently this lad had not missed a chapel all season. While chapel is no substitute for worship with the body of Christ, this is all that many players get during the season. Apparently his coach Joe Gibbs feels he was a believer; recently people had also seen some sort of change in his life. While his death is certainly a tragedy, there is at least some small evidence that he might have found something more important than football.

Many football players interviewed expressed the fact that this death continued to reinforce this truth: what they do is not a matter of life or death. This is basically the standard athlete’s response to any tragedy. Football, coming straight from the horse’s mouth (or at least close enough-I guess the NFL would actually be the horse’s mouth) is not a matter of life or death.

Neither are sports in general, nor many things that keep us up at night (provided that you don’t think about death at night-in that case, check out Romans 8:38-39). It’s a shame athletes can belittle the importance of their teams performance during a season, but fans (including myself) have a much harder time taking hold of this thought. I mean its really kind of silly.

Let me give you another example. Yankees and Red Sox hate each other, right? Well their fans do. But Johnny Damon went straight from the Red Sox to the Yankees. We fans make a bigger deal out of sports than the athletes themselves. I think that’s kind of interesting, if not sad.

I’m writing now fairly emotionally. I know its kind of dangerous to write out of emotion, but sometimes I need an outlet in which to vent. So the readers of this blog entry will be my ‘ventees.’

Someone came to the church the other day looking for work, love, family, hope, etc…I tend to be in between cynical and hopeful about people wandering in off the streets. Unfortunately, I was much too close to hopeful.

I wanted to believe this guy was worth spending my time with: driving him to find work, giving him clothes, having others drive him to find work, even having the church help him with rent. But the problem was that the guy destroyed my trust totally by his actions (which I really don’t want to get into). Basically, he followed the Steve Miller Band song, “Go, take the money and run.”

It angers me that someone who knew the bible as much as I did, who seemed so trustworthy, was a charlatan. A quack. A liar. A liar who deceived me totally, through and through. And it hurts. Right now my thoughts towards this gentlemen are not love. In fact they are very much the opposite, I confess. And if I saw him right now, I might have to keep my hands in my pockets for fear of putting them to use (although that’s really not an issue-I hit one dude when I was in elementary school and it hurt my hand so bad I never did it again!)

Perhaps its my pride which hurts the most. I took the bait, hook, line and sinker (which is why I only use artificial lures when I fish). But its also the fact that someone may actually need help, and I won’t believe them. Ever.

We do have a service in town which actually investigates the needs of people, reports quacks trying to use the system, and refers people to churches. Because of several issues, I didn’t refer him to them. From now on, I shall.

I guess I should have been more cynical. I should have had greater wisdom. I will learn from this mistake. I honestly don’t have a merciful heart towards people such as this gentlemen. I was starting to get one. Who knows where it will go?

However, if I allow this experience of being burned to cause me to neglect the poor in toto, I believe I would just be making an excuse for a sin of omission. After all, if I were burned by a church, I couldn’t just not go to ANY church (although that often happens). Same thing. If a white/black/Jew hurts me, should I expect that all of ‘them’ are out to get me? We call that racism. So I’m stuck! I guess I’m guilty of ‘poorism.’

However, I will from now on (at least that’s my stance now) not give any money, time, or even T-shirts to those not fully investigated by Manatee Religious Services. Many are quacks, but some aren’t. I just am not going to try to figure out who’s who. That way, maybe I won’t become a ‘poorist.’

Further reflection on a Christian-Muslim union. One of the more frustrating things I experienced this past weekend, was the blatant attempt to reconcile two faiths: Christianity and Islam.

This seems to me overly pragmatic, emotionally influenced, and contrary to reason. Let me explain. Normally I like to point to the idea and need for the atonement that is unique to Christianity (just to be clear, the atonement is presented in OT, and uniquely fulfilled in the God/Man Christ; but some Jews still look for that atoning Messiah, some see the atonement paid through the Holocaust, while others don’t think much about it).

However, if we look simply at Islam itself, we do find some irreconcilable differences. “There is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet,” is one of the Five Pillars of Islam. This statement was not made in a vacuum. Statements never are. It refutes the rampant polytheism of the day. That’s good. But it also refutes the Trinity, and denies that Jesus was fully divine (some believe Mohammed misunderstood the Trinity as Father, Jesus, Mary). That’s bad.

If one lad prays to Jesus, believing that He is fully God listening to His prayers, and another lad prays to God, but is very clear that this Jesus guy was a nice dude-but never crucified and resurrected-are the two people praying to the same entity but using different names?

If someone refuses to pray to Jesus, there is a reason. It is not a nominal thing. Its not just a different name, but it is a different Person. Jesus is either fully God/Man or he is fully a quack. We have to take a pick. You hear the phrase often, “Let’s agree to disagree.” I think this is one more instance in which we can say, “Let’s just agree to disagree.”

We can be friends. In situations beyond our control, we can be family. But we can agree to disagree and pray. And so that’s what I shall do.

I just returned from an interesting experience in San Francisco. My cousin got married to a Muslim lass named Fatima.

To say I felt precarious the whole time would have to be the understatement of the year. I didn’t know exactly how to act, disapproving of the marriage itself, and yet hoping to somehow not destroy the relationship (I’m the only pastor in the family; maybe one day he’ll seek pastoral advice from me and not the presbyterian pastor who assisted in the ceremony). At least I can hope.

But since I was not excited about the marriage, it was hard to feign positive emotions. Sometimes I can act, but most of the time I can’t. Probably the best word to describe my experience is “vertigo.”

U2 sang a song called “Vertigo” reflecting on the difficulty of living out your faith among non Christians. Difficult, but we are called to do it. Unfortunately many Christians isolate themselves and never have to deal with “vertigo.” They then forfeit a great experience of dependence and humility. But ‘vertigo’ makes our fellowship that much greater, sweeter, and deeper. When I came to church the next day, it was an even greater blessing than usual.

Although I have to admit during the trip, I had fellowship with my family and some extended family members which helped with the “vertigo” experience. While U2 probably ought to spend some more time in fellowship with believers, many others probably need to experience ‘vertigo’ more often. But I recommend it in smaller doses and in far different circumstances.

On Friday I ate a whole calzone. That’s not abnormal for me. I’ve been known to polish off whole calzones without much of a thought of bringing the other half home. And there’s nothing wrong with that. A calzone is a beautiful thing to be consumed.

But the problem with this dinner trip was that we had already ordered garlic bread before the meal came. So I wasn’t as hungry. I could have easily stopped eating. I was full. I was content. But I simply wanted more, so I ate. And then I felt bad the whole night. I was a glutton.

Gluttony is not mentioned much in the bible (certainly not enough for it to crack the Catholic top 7 list!). Jesus was accused of being a glutton and drunkard because he hung out with gluttons and drunkards. Gluttony is mentioned negatively in Proverbs 23 as leading to poverty. Other than these specific references, we don’t find the word too often.

But what about the concept? Is the concept of gluttony (unnecessary over-indulgence and over-consumption of anything to the point of waste or lack of self control) really all that biblical? Is it really a sin to be conscious of?

I once heard someone say, “You can be addicted to food, just like pornography.” I thought that was ludicrous. Sin is a hard enough battle; don’t invent new ones with which struggle. But the other day someone confessed to a large group of people, “Seven years ago, I would have joined you on that run. But now I’ve gained so much weight and that isn’t an option. I’ve worshiped the idol of food, and indulged in it.”

Fortunately my metabolism is probably faster than this guy’s (and I do work out with weights-though I’m not sure that will do anything about my mini-gut), but I could probably confess the same thing. Although I don’t not run because I’m physically unable; like Seinfeld once said simply and confidently, “I choose not to run.”

Looking back on my life, let me show you how I think this sin has manifested itself. I don’t have self control in eating things. If its there, I eat it. All of it. I don’t like to share food. Ever. I’m like a dog eating at his bowl. Do not disturb him, or me.

While gluttony is not mentioned that much, issues of self control certainly ought to concern us. God’s grace teaches us to say no to ungodliness, and enables us to live self controlled lives (Titus 2:11-12). So I think I’m going to rely on God’s grace to encourage, forgive, and challenge me while at the dinner table more often.

BTW, this post really has no real intentional connection to Thanksgiving. It was just on my heart, and stomach, I guess you could say. But its proximity to a Thanksgiving feast does seem apropos, if not at the very least unsettling!

In case you don’t know yet, Amy and I are going to have a baby. Well, actually, Amy will be the one ‘having it’ (if you want to get technical), but I’ll be there in the room for moral support.

Regardless, I’ve been amazed at the ‘baby process.’ Its absolutely crazy. We had our 2nd doctor’s visit last Friday, and we got to hear the heartbeat. I think the count was like 158 beats a minute. A little fast more my liking, but the lady (I can’t remember if it was a nurse, doctor, midwife, other person-there’s so many folks coming in and out that I get confused) said that was plenty normal.
One thing that I’m amazed about is all the ‘thought process’ that goes into the whole gestation, or whatever you call it, thing. I mean its amazing that at 13 weeks, something forms, at 15 weeks, something else, and so on. You can tell I’m well read on the matter. That’s one thing I need to be better at.

But its so cool how the body ‘knows’ what to do, and how it all works. Amazing. I know I’m biased, being a Christian and all, but this whole baby thing ought to make one rethink Atheism or evolution. Like I said, anyone who is a Christian has a bias, and anyone who is a non-Christian also has a bias. We are looking at facts from differing point of views, which makes us arrive at different conclusions.

Nevertheless, it seems much harder to believe that this whole process comes about by mutation and chance. Its just too amazing, complex, and interdependent. While the ancients knew little of the development of babies in wombs, David’s claim in Psalm 139 divulges he at least knew God had a part in it: “For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works, my soul knows it very well.” 139:14-15

In our short experience together, Amy and I would echo his sentiments.

Last Friday night, Amy and I watched the first 10 minutes of Reign Over Me. After she fell asleep, I watched the last hour and a half of of the movie.
In case you’re not familiar with it, it features Don Cheadle (Hotel Rwanda) and Adam Sandler. I’m becoming a huge Don Cheadle fan these days.

Adam Sandler’s character’s family dies in the 911 crash, and he is emotionally unable to continue his dentist practice. Don Cheadle hasn’t seen him in years, and finds him in this state. Much of the depicts this overwhelming relationship.

But there’s more than just that relationship. By the end of the movie, I think it portrayed a realistic and hopeful picture of marriage. Cheadle’s character (like all dudes) desires to have hobbies of his own (this is not bad in itself). More than that, he feels suffocated from his wife’s desire to do things like puzzles and photography classes together. And of course like most lads, he remains silent in his frustrations.

Well, in walks his friend who needs help, and Cheadle spends most of his waking hours with Sandler. In other words, he runs. That’s what guys do: we run. When there are problems with marriage, we want to find anything to which we can run. Since Cheadle doesn’t have any hobbies, he throws himself into this relationship hoping to help Sandler. In part, that’s admirable.

But he does so to the neglect of his family. In addition, I think there’s a secondary motivation going on. It’s easier. It’s easier to run to anything outside, be it a friend, hobby, beer, etc…, than to deal honestly with your marriage and family. It just is. And guys are notorious for it. And this movie captures it very well.

By the end, Cheadle begins to see his own errors, his own selfishness, and his own dishonesty. He apologizes and the two come together. And so overall, we see an accurate, and redeeming picture of marriage. By the way, don’t NOT see it because of Sandler. He’s really quite amazing in this movie.