Leaning Forward

Madame Muzaka doesn't know anyway

So, let's eat Chinese tonight and get a glimpse of the future in our fortune cookie. Better yet, lets go the B & N and check out the long-range forecasts in (a) an almanac, (b) the horoscopes for the year, (c) a volume explaining the inner workings of the Ouija Board, or (d) a book with the detals of reading Tarot cards. Even more, call one of the thousands of psychic hot lines where you can get some hints about tomorrow for only $3.99 per minute. Or, you can always go visit Madame Muzaka, the palm reader up on the corner.

Humans want to know. Living in the mystery of the things hidden from us is one of the harder challenges of life. So, the local Doppler Viper Live Team Storm Central people get the prime minutes in the local newscasts because of our innate inquisitiveness. Like we can't live for another minute if we don't know whether to wear a coat or carry an umbrella with us to work tomorrow. Now, on the Eve of 2011, we're wondering what kind of year it will be. Underneath the well wishes and Happy New Year thoughts is the question mark about the things that are awaiting us out there. We really want to know.

Of course, life is uncertain. This historian reminded us, "The secret things belong to the Lord our Go, but the revealed things belong to us and to our children forever, that we may follow all the words of this law" (Deuteronomy 29:29). Some things have been opened to us, while many more are hidden in the secret places of God. You and I just aren't supposed to know everything. 

Yet, there are certainties. God is certain, and all the attributes of God are fixed and unchangeable. His promises are certain, etched in His everlasting faithfulness. His love is unconditional and forever. His Word doesn't fluctuate with the trends and whims of culture. His salvation is eternal and cannot be take away. Throughout redemptive history God is truth and His ways are right. In a world of flux and growth and constant change He is our unchangeable Guide.

So, the minutes of 2011 can only be discovered in real time, as they occur. How, then, do we navigate this uncertain terrain? Well, I love what God said to Joshua as the Israelite children were moving in to possess the promised land. He said, "When you see the ark of the covenant of the Lord your God and the priests, who are Levites carrying it, you are to move our from your positions and follow it. Then you will know which way to go, since you have never been this way before."

The ark of the covenant was the symbol of God's presence to them. The were to trust and follow where He would lead them. Sounds like pretty solid advice to me. Here it is in a nutshell: Keep God out front , follow Him with all your heart and mind and soul, trust Him in all things. He then will guide us into the new territory ahead. Very plain. Very clear.

You see, Madame Muzaka doesn't know anyway.

The power of one

There was a time when one mattered. Globalization may have changed all of that. One seems almost insignificant in a world of 6,000,000,000 souls, a universe that measures but a span to God. Once in a while, when we're feeling a little too big for our breaches we need to look at life through the panorama of time and space and realize that we are but a speck in the schemata of history. Even in the BIble our lives are portrayed as dew, vapor, the grass that withers, a blip on the scope of time. Yet, Scripture also speaks of the power of one, how one solitary life can matter and how even one small person can totally alter the face of civilization or shift the mores of culture. The list is long, the individuals whose vision or effort or single-minded determination have influenced millions. Small we may be. But, insignificant, never! There is the power of one.

A flocking mentality seems to define things these days. Huge is in. People love a crowded restaurant, will stand or idle the car in a long queue, and think faith can only happen where large crowds appear. Lost in the wilderness of people is how the woman at the well influenced her entire village, the image of the shepherd leaving the ninety-nine to go in search of the one, Simon Peter's catalytic impact on the crowds gathered for Pentecost, Noah preaching for 120 years, the lonely solitude of the Prophets, and the powerful promise of God to the individuals He called and empowered to speak for Him, the one that is repeated so often, "I am with you", or "I will be with you". 

Surely the lonely are gathered into families, believers are miraculously and providentially formed into a supernatural body called the church, Jesus trained twelve, spoke often to multitudes, taught large crowds of people. Underneath the corporate expressions of faith is the thoroughly Biblical ideal of one, the value of one human life, the power of one witness, the belief that one person can make a difference.   

Along with the group dynamics of contemporary faith, we must muddle through the layers of complexity that attends many minds and perspectives as well. So, big often translates to complicated. How often have change agents used the turning of an ocean-liner to illustrate the difficulty of institutional change? Such is the dilemma of the institutional church these days. How do we reverse troubling trend lines? How can denominational declines be corrected in such a vast structure?

Surely, it is too obvious, the power of one! Maybe the final answer isn't discovered in revised corporate policies or mission statements. Maybe the way out of the quagmire is more basic and simpler than big decisions and programs being generated by a small number of constituents. Maybe it's the power of one thing all over again, the "each one reach one" mentality that used to fuel our enterprise. 

There's a dark side to the power of one! It is personal accountability. Crowds and groups and masses of people and large meetings is a good place to hide. When theres a gang of people, you can always point to everyone else as the culprit for whatever woes are troubling us. When we place the burden on the shoulders of every individual, well, the accountability thing gets a little uncomfortable. And, who are you to judge me anyway!

I'm thinking a true resurgence is a movement of one. I'm praying for the courage to pray, "OK, Lord! You can start right here!"

 

They're not listening---

All the recent Great Commission Resurgence Task Force talk has pretty much missed the point. Don't misunderstand. I'm a proponent of the GCRTF and deeply believe our denomination must do some house-cleaning if we're going to influence our times. Yet, the idealist in me regrets the necessity of such initiatives. Is the disconnect with our culture so complete we must resort to headlines and bold strokes to re-establish it?

Of one thing I am sure: this culture is no longer listening to the institutional church. No, they are watching us instead. They really want to know whether or not we are authentic. It's good question. Maybe it's why we need a GCR!

The "got faith?" question isn't just rhetorical anymore. Not too long ago evangelical Christians believed that such talk was unnecessary. The faith of Scripture is self-evident, an intensely personal relationship that changes us from the inside out. Genuine faith is visible. In the New Testament believers are being transformed into our Lord's likeness with ever-increasing glory. Biblical faith involves putting off the old and putting on the new, the realities of a new creation replacing the depravity of the old. It is a change that alters life at every level.

How faith devolved into such an invisible force baffles me. Maybe it's the after-shock of neo-orthodox theology, or an accommodation to cultural relativism, or the desire of the church to be a little more attractive to local communities, or some satanic force guiding church people into an era of disbelief. Whatever it is, the modern practice of faith has lost much of its realness. Yes, the Good News of Jesus is to be spoken with great confidence and boldness. Yet, it is to be verified through lives that are changed. As said by Francis of Assisi, we're to use words if necessary.

This may be one of the reasons the contemporary church has registered with younger Americans. There are few frills, no sacred cows, a good bit or relevance, some irreverence too, frank talk, on the edge topics, and a no nonsense approach to mission. They're quick  to say "it is what it is", and they'll gladly show you the back door if you dissent or complain or bring any traditional luggage with you. It is real. Maybe a little flimsy in places, but real all the way. The millennials are flocking there by the thousands. 

Go simple with me, again! I seem to do well with simple. Ever wonder what would happen if we made the "got faith?" question totally obsolete? I mean, what would the world look like if every believer---I mean, beginning with pastors, church leaders, and spreading concentrically through the entire family of faith---started to live up to the essentials of faith as defined by the Bible? What if our faith was so visible, the "got faith?" was totally invalidated. Maybe then we could stop talking about our cool strategies with all our hip buzzwords, the initiatives and exotic mission statements, tag lines and coffee cup mottos, and let the world see Christ in us---no, Christ in me, the hope of glory.

Of course, we're Baptists. We like to boast about being the largest Protestant denomination, about our large missionary force, our cooperative giving system, the vast LifeWay empire, and 42,000 churches across the fruited plain. We know how to program just about anything, and can throw a cool slogan on everything from a covered-dish supper to man night. We used to be people of The Word, and now we're people of words. Trouble is, words are cheap these days. So, even with our sophisticated swagger, huge balance sheets, and marketing plans, they're still not listening.

They're watching.

Harder and faster

It's called a "do nothing". I used to own one. It sat on my desk and every once in a while I'd pick it up, give it a whirl, and use it to help me get a little traction in life. Basically, it's an ingenious, yet simple contraption. We bought it from a road-side vendor while on vacation in the Great Smokey Mountains. It cost all of $3. Over the years it has provided me with a good kick in the you know where when I've been on the ministry treadmill, getting nowhere fast. It must be effective. More than a few colleagues have borrowed this thing as an illustration of working harder and faster and getting nothing done. You can crank these pistons as hard and fast as you like and it will still do---guess what, absolutely nada, that is, nothing.

This is one of life's mysteries, why sane, reasonably smart and educated humans keep doing the same things over and over again, expecting different results. Sadly, it is also a hallmark of modern ministry, this tendency for repetitive processes but with increased urgency and speed, as if harder and faster would produce another outcome. Here's a news flash. What we're doing---and by we, I mean the church in the twenty-first century in general, and Southern Baptists in particular---isn't realizing Kingdom goals and objectives. The percentage of believer's in the United States continues to decline. The global stats are even more staggering. When are we going to admit that doing the same things--even when we go after them with greater speed and effort---are not going to yield different results. Too bad, so sad.

Over the years I've watched a good many seminary educated pastors and church staffers play with the "do nothing" in my office.  That gadget is more than a conversation piece. No, it is mountain wisdom, the laid-back ingenuity of wasted motion. Inevitably they will become obsessed with the "do nothing", fiddle with it while we're talking, then finally ignore me altogether, thinking their faster turns will soon cause the pistons to collide. Nah! Never in a million years. It is designed that way. Close but no cigar, no matter how hard you crank it. Defeated and frustrated, they'll throw it on the table. You know, give up.

Some people actually look at it and place it on the table immediately. They may try to work the mechanism one time but discover very soon it doesn't do anything. Knowing they cannot outsmart the design, they move on.

Comparisons to ministry aren't difficult here. Some of us are stuck stubbornly working the "do nothing" of ministry that was effective years ago. We won't learn anything new, but will work the machinery harder and faster in an effort to make it work. Others recognize that it is designed not to work and don't waste the energy or effort to make it do what it won't.

Parallels? Figure it out. Some of us are trapped in a time warp of another era and keep cranking the handle harder and faster, yet produce no Kingdom result. Others know the old systems just won't work in this new world, and so, wisely, adjust and connect for great Kingdom influence, more changed lives.

You see, a "do nothing" is designed to accomplish just that, no matter how hard and fast you do it. And, it must provide a good object lesson. Somebody stuck it under their coat and walked out with it a year or two ago. Maybe they like the illusion of motion. It may make them feel like they're doing something.

Or, they could just be a kleptomaniac.

If there was a re-set button

New Year's week is always a trip for me. You know, a trip down memory lane. Now, let me make it very clear, retro is a the most difficult perspective for me. With strong future themes and very little context in my personal strength array, looking in the rear-view mirror is the one directional reminder that I'd just as soon forget. I mean, adelante, forward, is my basic orientation. Back is usually a test.

Yet, there are memories. Like the final week in 1980, thirty whole years ago. It was my first year as Pastor of Woodland Baptist Church, in Wake Forest, North Carolina. I was a first year seminary student too, and was preparing to transport the Woodland spiritual family into 1981 and a whole new era of church life. They hadn't seen anything yet, I remember thinking as Harriet and I plotted our first full year as their pastor. We're going to change the world.

Well, yes, I was just thirty years old, still plenty wet behind the ears, and eager to bring the whole world to Christ, or at least our corner of Wake and Granville Counties. Seminary was already blowing my mind, trying to find some bearings in the strange, new world of neo-orthodox theology. But, it was a fresh, exuberant time too, an age of dreaming impossible dreams, reaching for the stars, drafting our first year-long ministry plan, setting goals, developing a systematic teaching and preaching program, and challenging the congregation for the greatest days in their epoch. We were super-charged, high octane young fire-brands ready to set the world on fire.

As they say, that was then, this is now! Thirty years later there's a proverbial good news and bad news scenario. The good news is that our denomination has experienced a return to the Bible, a resurgence of respect for and submission to the authority of Scripture in faith and practice. Well and good. The bad news? Global demographics are down. The Biblical resurgence hasn't brought about the spiritual outcomes that the bright-eyed, energetic young people of the 1980's predicted or expected. What we need is a personal "re-set" button to ignite the after-burners for another kind of resurgence.

Well, there is a "re-set" button. Maybe "re-set" isn't the right term. But, it is real, nonetheless. Perhaps it should be called the "re-newel" button, the promise of God to constantly make all things new, the Biblical truth that God is always doing a new thing, and that His new thing can happen in every single redeemed heart, even in the heart of some of us older guys thinking back thirty years. 

Ouch, this hurts. More and more I am encountering pastors, church staffers, denominational and agency leaders who are basically the same as they were years ago. It is the old time religion in the old time package without regard to the new wine and the new wine skins. It's not the loss of energy or creativity or youth that is missing in so many of us. It is the absence of the "new thing" God does in a believers life every single day. The world is in worse shape now than in 1980, even after a strong return to the Bible, because, basically, we've not been renewed day by day.

Now, with 2011 just a fews days away, I know the youth and  vitality that I had in 1981 is a done deal and that no magical "re-set" button can recapture it. But, there is personal spiritual renewal, an inner mechanism that links my heart to His and gives me the spiritual impetus to keep the message up to date and relevant in a rapidly changing world.

So, I'm not going to lament the absence of a "re-set" button that could super-charge my worn batteries. No, there's more. There is a place deep in my heart that only God can touch. When he renews me, every single day, he brings refreshment and renewal that helps me to connect to this world right now.

OK, now to keep my eyes on the road, ahead.

Creative Ways to Bless

Each year I am blessed to discover the creative ways friends bless other people at Christmas. To see the number of families and children adopted during the holidays reminds me that even in these financially pressurized times love and concern for others is a key note of our celebration. Even more, the season is energized by a certain creative flair that lifts us beyond the normal channels of reaching out. Christmas stimulates inner impulses like no other time of the year. May I share a couple of very nice ideas for blessing others.

Dr. Bobby Howard, Assistant Professor of Religion at Charleston Southern University gave me the first practical idea this year. He was teaching our last quarter XCav8 segment, PrayerLife 101, more a practical guide to personal praying than a theology or doctrine of prayer. He told us what the Howards did with their Christmas cards each year. After the season is over, they place all their Christmas cards in a box or basket and place it on the kitchen counter. Every week one of their girls chooses a Christmas card from the bunch and the Howard family prayers for the sender all that week. What a creative and thoughtful way to redemptively utilize the many cards they receive from friends and family. What a blessing to think of our mailing list throughout the year. I love this idea! Thanks Bobby and Kim, McKenzie and Cameron.

Crystal McCall, wife of worship pastor Matt McCall, provided another creative Christmas blessing that Harriet and I will practice next year. This idea is based on the Christmas novel Christmas Jars, by Jason F. Wright (Shadow Mountain Publishing, 2005). Basically, it works like this. You take a standard Ball Jar, cut a deposit slot in the top, and attach a tag that identifies what the Christmas Jar is about. It would say something like: Christmas 2010. Put this jar in a busy place in your home. Drop your loose change in the jar every day. Leave it out and even your guests will have fun adding change to your jar. Then, Christmas 2011. Give the jar to someone you know who needs a little help with food, toys for kids, or donate it to your favorite charity. Simply put the jar on their desk or porch, or in their car. You'll be surprised how much you can generate and how much you can affect someones life. Very cool. What an amazing and creative way to be a Christmas blessing!

These times and the financial challenges many people are facing, bring out the best instincts in the Christian community. Search Scripture and history to discover that the church has always been healthiest during times of persecuton or hardship. This is true today. God's people continue to find unique and creative ways to bless other people.

Our faith is not merely words. You and I know talk is cheap. So, Scripture affirms in many places that faith without action is dead and meaningless. Our faith must be expressed in practical ways that touch the ground where we live. This is real faith, and I am thankful to serve with not only very generous people, but also very creative people. Makes me want to say "wow"!

Wow!

So, what's the big deal.

When Danny Levy, our tour guide in Israel back in 1996, told us the manger was actually carved from stone, it kind of blew me away. I mean, every manger scene I had ever seen, even the living nativity that Harriet and I participated in on our second date, had a little wooden hay trough as the crib for baby Jesus. So, while touring Megiddo, Danny Levy showed us the stone watering trough pictured at left, well it was just a new image for me to work into my concept of that first Christmas. Just goes to show how we've totally westernized the New Testament, you know, adjusted our reading of the New Testament era into an American standard version. It's really no biggie though. The manger is not the miracle.

Shut my mouth wide open, Danny Levy also told us Joseph wasn't really a carpenter. He was, according to the Israeli interpretation, a "tekton", that is, a worker in stone. Well, to be honest, that is a little tight int he translation department too. "Tekton" can refer to someone who carves rock or lays mosaic or does other rock work. But, it can mean a worker in wood too. So, it's up in the air. But, the rock work thing makes sense in the topography of Israel, where workable lumber is really scarce. You can do much wood work with palm trees, which are too dense, or olive trees, which are too gnarled. Once again, it's not a faith denying thing anyway. What Joseph did for a living is not the miracle either.

The miracle we're celebrating today is the one about the Word becoming flesh and dwelling among us. The stable is incidental, Joseph's occupatiuon a footnote, and all the other details about Bethlehem, the shepherds, and the five m's---Mary, matrimony, maternity, manger, and Magi---important matters but peripheral to the real miracle. That is why our study of John's Gospel has been so special this month. We've been able to side-step some of the debated line items to concentrate on the real miracle, the birth of the Messiah and Savior.

And, today is the peak. Today we learn that he came into that stable, whatever it was made of, full of truth and grace. A world that disdains absolutes and loves the idea of working our way back to you God, needs to grasp the fullness of truth and grace. John wanted us to know that Jesus came into this world to bring salvation by being truth and grace, the two real obstacles to our redemption.

So, today, we celebrate truth and grace, and sing "Joy to the World, the Lord is Come". You see, that is the miracle, no matter the materials of the manger.

Merry Christmas! Rejoice and be glad. Truth and grace is ours.

Christmas memory 3

The Christmas program at West Greenville Baptist Church back in the 1950's was actually the annual church "Christmas Tree". There weren't any techno-gadgets, orchestras, film clips, or stylized drama. The church quartet (Mavis and Paul Ducker, Jack Mann, and N.J. Carroll) may have have provided a carol or two, the children may have done a variation of "Away in a Manger" or "Silent Night", and my PaPa Owens, pastor of West Greenville, most likely read the Christmas story from the Gospel of Luke and preached a message. But, the main attractions of the West Greenville Baptist Church Christmas Tree every year were the brown paper sacks that lined the walls, covered the stage around the church Christmas tree, and would eventually be given to every person present. Just a plain brown paper lunch sack.

There was a 1950's happy days buzz about the church Christmas Tree. The old sanctuary was packed and everyone was excited. It may have been the highlight of the church year as we waited anxiously to go up to the front to receive our brown sack. You would have thought we were receiving a valued treasure or precious metals, maybe the latest toys, socks, a new Timex. No. Inside each bag was a tangerine, an orange, an apple, one candy cane, several pieces of peppermint hard-candy, a couple of walnuts, two or three pecans, a brazil nut. Visions of sugar plums must have danced in our heads as we waited to get our church Christmas Tree present.

What is more, we knew what was is the sacks. It as the same thing every year. To boot, my cousins and I had watched granddaddy and the deacons of the church distribute the fruit and nuts and candy as they carefully filled each bag. So, the contents of the bag wasn't a surprise. We knew it was simple and plain and we were anxious anyway.

That's the memory I suppose, the simplicity of the church Christmas Tree and brown paper sacks that every attendee received. Compared to singing Christmas Trees, live nativity scenes, complex dramatic presentations, staged shows, light sets, orchestra arrangements, and other twenty-first century holiday enhancements, it was very ordinary. Today people would yawn at the seemingly cheap expression of seasonal wishes. Some arrogant sophisticates would most likely laugh, even smirk at such a lame gesture. That's the world we live in: complicated, unappreciative, critical.

The plain simple facts of Christmas won't satisfy the wild cravings of this kind of world. We have to add things, supplement the manger story with our own enhancements to make it more acceptable. The church Christmas Tree flashing across my screen is really a flashback to a simpler, kinder time before the frills and bling of the holidays reached such incredible proportions.  That a tangerine and a few nuts could create such a stir is testimony to the power of things more basic and elemental. To remember the faces of children and even old people brighten when they received their little brown sack warms my heart even now, more than fifty years later.

So, tonight we gather for Christmas Eve worship. There will be great music, readings from the New Testament, a short devotional thought, and the ordinance of the Lord's Supper. I'm praying that it will be as sweet and unadorned as a group of 1950's believers anticipating their little brown sack of goodies.

Merry Christmas! Oh yeah. It's a boy!

Christmas Memories 2

Some things stick in your mind! In this case it's a peppermint stick I can't seem to remove from my internal core memory. It's the memory of a favorite Christmas goodie grandmother Vera Holmes provided when we were in Walhalla for our family get together each year. She'd fix a tray of luscious Florida oranges and we'd drink the juice through an old-fashioned soft type peppermint stick. Yummy!!!

OK, such home-spun delicacies have been eclipsed by Pez candy dispensers, red & green gummy worms, spicy eggnog coffee, and all manner of seasonal holiday fare. An orange and soft peppermint stick are kind of crude on the techno-meter of contemporary stuff. So, the question may be why such a simple thing has left such a lasting impression.

This is just a thought, mind you, and all the cousins may argue another point or two. But, for me, the value of this little holiday goodie was (1) the fact that grandma Holmes took the time to create them for us, and (2) it gave us a connection to her childhood, way back in another century. While we watched Charlie Brown on TV we partook of a simple orange treat from another time. Very cool!

At various times in history creative Americans have tried to touch our softer side, you know, make some contact with our past in the hopes we may somehow appreciate the things we enjoy all the more. It's true, sipping orange juice through a peppermint stick is novel, especially when we were just then learning to drink soft drinks from a can and milk from a carton. To make a connection to the wonders of a previous century was like watching Daniel Boone on TV or having my own coon-skin cap. Grandma Holmes was reminding us that simple is good, that taking time to do something nice is even better, and that there are some pleasures in life you just cannot buy.

DIY is kind of faddish these days, you know, the novelty of doing it yourself. We've become so accustomed to purchasing everything ready-made, or hiring someone to do every thing, we've just about lost the real pleasure of hands-on involvement. I mean, drinking orange juice from a cup is good. Fresh squeezing a cup is even better. Guzzling it through a peppermint straw is the ultimate orange juice experience.

Today we buy our firewood, pick up a loaf of bread, purchase readymade sandwiches, and a brownie pack that is alrealy spread in the pan, sliced, and ready to bake. The pool guy cleans the pool, the yard guy takes care of the yard, the garbage man picks up the garbage, and the re-cycling man grabs the re-cycle bin. Oh, yes, the pastor does all the visiting and talking about Jesus, and the missionaries take care of the mission responsibilities. And, you drink juice from a bottle or carton, squeezed, cooled, and ready to sip. Then, you don't have to roll the orange around, cut a hole in the top, or mess with that soft peppermint stick. Moderns enjoy the convenience, but miss some of the experience. It's a trade-off that a plumb Florida orange and a cheap peppermint stick brought into focus.

Christmas affirms the up-close truth of God with us, the nearness of God in the Incarnation. Surely the Lord God of the universe cold have set any plan in motion, brought His redemptive plan into being without such intimacy. He could have remained distant and completely transcendent, the God of heaven far away from fallen humankind. Yet, He took on flesh and made His dwelling among us. He did offer a vicarious death, that is, dying in our place. But, it wasn't from a distance. It was close and personal, a work of enormous love, mercy and grace and compassion.

MIssion is up-close and personal too, a hands on experience that we cannot hand off to others or assign to someone else. It is as fresh and individual and grandmother serving up a tray full of oranges with peppermint sticks poking out, a labor of love and care, intensely personal, very meaningful. Like the Christmas manger itself, mission is a particular demonstration of commitment, a powerful act of intervention, a work that exceeds even the most eloquent words.

When we can bring this spirit to the mission, the will to model it and lead by example and trust God for what is needed, and simplify the process, maybe then we can re-discover the joy of something so sweet and basic as drinking orange juice through a peppermint stick.

Sounds like a resurgence to me.

Christmas Memories 1

Esther Mae Owens Holmes was a pace-setter. One of my most vivid Christmas memories was the year she purchased and displayed a silver Christmas tree and the revolving flood light that would reflect on the tree in red, green, blue, and yellow. The Holmes' were the talk of Cherokee Drive with their modern Christmas tree innovation. The one pictured stage left is not the real deal, but only an approximation downloaded from a Google search. Still, it's close, though I remember ours being much more beautiful that this one. Funny how memory does that, makes things bigger and better---shinier, brighter, more exotic, a good bit more extravagant.

It's a Christmas memory that crosses my mind when I go a little retro occasionally, more often these days, perhaps a sign of my age. What strikes me about this may seem a little odd too. You see, I don't remember any of the presents I received under the shimmering silver tree that year, or really anything else about Christmas that year. But, I do remember the tree---I mean vividly, like it was yesterday. We all stood in awe of that late fifties or early sixties marvel. What will they think of next?

I've been wondering what it was about this gaudy, silver tree that made such an indelible memory? I mean, there are sixty one Christmases and something about this one stands out. And, I think I've got it. This silver tree speaks to the special character of the season and the way our mother approached it. In our family it was truly a traditional celebration, reading the Christmas story, sharing gifts, seasonal food, the gross fruit cake our mother loved and hoarded, time with our extended families, church programs, and a few things that were unique to our family. We always opened one gift on Christmas eve to settle Michael, Christie, and me down for a long (usually very short) winter's nap.  Basically, it was all-American suburban Christmas back in the Happy Days.

At the same time, it was always new and fresh, a reflection of the Christmas miracle, the baby born in a manger anew in our hearts every year. That silver tree and motorized, turning light were reminders that the message of Christmas is never old. Though ensconced in tradition, memorialized in Scripture, rehearsed in our observance every season, the story of Christ's birth is as contemporary as his abiding presence, as current as the latest Christmas fad, the silver tree. That tree reminds me of both angles, the new and the old, the trendy and the traditional.

Esther and The Chester unpacked and presented that tree with a good bit of fanfare, some yuletide pomp and circumstance to raise our anticipation of the celebration. We all stood at the entrance to the living room in awe and wonder, lights off, marveling at the changing colors of the silver tree. The Chester took us to the front yard so we could get the view from the street. Like the Griswold's we formed a tight circle down by the road and stared at the bling. Neighbors commented on this space-age marvel, the newest wrinkle in Christmas tree design. The old, old story took on a new excitement.

Funny, the delicate balance between tradition and innovation. So very often the deeper meaning of things is lost in our manic pursuit of a new angle, the twist that signals our up-to-date perspective. Just as often, though, tradition morphs into traditionalism, and the meaning is buried beneath layers of "we've never done it that way before" attitudes, etched in hearts of stone. Jesus, our Lord spoke of this dynamic when he talked of new wine and old wine-skins. He warned of trying to contain the fresh new wine of the Gospel in wine skins worn thin by overuse, too fragile for the effervescent truth.

This is the challenege that faces us church people as we enter the move forward in the second decade of the twenty-first century. Whether in our roles as local church leaders or in the larger denominational circle, we must find that delicate balace so we are not weighted and therefore immovable by our traditions, or just as truthfully, so mod and fadish we discard the richness of our faith along the way.

Like the weird aluminum tree, I pray for some amazement at the old, old story, and a sense of value for the things that really matter.

Wow! Look at that thing change colors. What will they think of next?