Christmas Past, 1981 (part 2, a repost)

Today my guestblogger, my mom, finishes the story she started yesterday.  (Just FYI, the pics are from 1979 and 1980--it's the best I could do with what I have here with me in Taiwan.)

It was a warm Texas December night and a very special one for us (ok – very special to me, the sentimental one!).

It was our first time decorating a tree with a child old enough to
participate.  We purchased a small Christmas tree from the local
grocery store and carted it home on top of our Pinto station wagon.
Ken crafted a tree stand out of scrap wood and we placed the tree on
top of our end table, hopefully out of the reach of our toddler’s
(Sarah’s) grasp.  We placed the lights on the tree and Amanda and I
began hanging ornaments.  She was so excited we were celebrating!  I
was so excited – I got to keep the traditions!

It came time to turn off the overhead lights and plug in the
Christmas tree lights.  As soon as the lights on the tree began
shining, Amanda, overcome at the beauty of what she was seeing,
spontaneously began to exclaim “Oh! Oh! Glory to God in the Highest!
Glory to God in the Highest!  Glory to God in the Highest!”  She raised
her arms and began dancing around that small glowing tree praising God,
repeating that phrase over and over just as the angels must have done
on the first Christmas night.

I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed worship as genuine as the worship
I saw that night!  Worship from one with such a pure heart and pure
motives – a precious three-year-old, who knew only that we were
celebrating the birth of Jesus and that our Christmas tree was shining
just as the heavens were the night of His birth when angels praised God
and proclaimed His glory. And, she wanted to celebrate and praise Him
in the same way!

That Christmas, God gave us just what we needed through the faith
and actions of a three-year-old child.  That experience changed our
perspective on Christmas celebrations.  We both realized that a
Christmas tradition held its meaning only in the heart of the person
participating in the tradition – you could focus on the warm and fuzzy
feelings felt by reliving the tradition or you could focus on the
original intent of the tradition or you could focus on the One for Whom
you were celebrating as you participated in the tradition.

In our family, we choose to focus not on feelings or original intent, but on the Reason we were celebrating.

Each year, as we decorate our tree, it is a family tradition to tell
the story of the night we worshipped with Amanda around our first
family decorated Christmas tree. We seek to have the same worshipful
heart as a three-year-old who, though only looking at the lights on a
small Christmas tree, saw a sky filled with a host of heavenly angels
proclaiming God’s glory at the birth of His Son and joyfully joined in
the angels’ praises.

Now that is giving meaning to a Christmas tradition!

~Joi

Amanda: Isn't that a great story!! I just LOVE it!!  My mom is
so right . . . when we look at our Christmas traditions--or any
traditions for that matter--we can foucs on one of three things: (1)
warm, fuzzy feelings, (2) original intent, or (3) Christ. 

For me and my sister (I think she would agree with me), that now
as adults, because our parents focused on Christ at Christmas, the
"warm, fuzzy feelings" of the holiday didn't dissappear but were
intensified.  It is not that our traditions became stoic--how can
worship of the long-awaited Savior be emotionless?  No, the "fuzzy
feelings" didn't dissappear, they just were not the reason we did the
things we did. 

As adults, my sister and I anticipate Christmas traditions because we are excited to worship the King of kings and Lord of lords;
we look forward to being able to express our love for him in unique
once-a-year Christmas ways.  Through participating in Christmas
traditions, we enjoy being able to proclaim "Oh! Oh! Glory to God in
the highest!!" and "Jesus, we love you!!" 

This is a repost from last year.  Originally posted here.

Christmas Past (1981) (a repost)

I, Amanda, asked my mom to share
one of my family's favorite Christmas stories.  So, today and tomorrow
she is guest blogging here at following an unknown path.  Now, without
further adieu, let my mom take you back 25 years, to the Christmas of
1981 . . .

Christmastime is supposed to be a time of joy and celebration, but
there was conflict in our household.  My husband and I disagreed for
most of our newly married four years on how we should celebrate
Christmas and neither of us wanted to give up any ground.  However our
children were getting older (3 years and 18 months), and we needed to
reach an agreement on how our young family would celebrate this season.

I am the sentimental one in our family.  I love the Christmas
season, all of it: the lights, the tree, the presents, cookie baking,
surprises and secrets, being with family and of course, celebrating the
Reason for the Season – God becoming a man and dwelling among us in
order to fulfill His plan of redemption.

On the other hand, I don’t think my husband has a sentimental bone
in his body!  He is very practical, very logical, extremely
well-grounded in Scripture and very matter-of-fact.  This particular
Christmas, he was finishing his education at seminary and had learned
that most of our traditional Christmas celebrations began as pagan
rituals.  He would come home after seminary classes and explain to me
what he had learned in class and the conflict would begin!  He didn’t
want our family to take part in any celebration that did not glorify
God.  With such a youthful intensity to do only that which glorified
God, he didn’t want us to participate in some of the traditions I loved
because of their original intent.

Technically I agreed, I certainly didn’t want to be a part of
anything that didn’t glorify God!…..but I couldn’t imagine Christmas
without all the traditions I had grown up with and loved nor could I
imagine not sharing those traditions with my children. 

After much discussion and heart searching, we decided we would keep
Christmas traditions as a part of our celebration (yeah! – I could
still have a Christmas tree!!), and purposefully seek to make the true
meaning of Christmas the focus in our family by telling the Christmas
story often to our young girls and singing religious Christmas carols
with them. 

It was our routine to read or tell bedtime stories each night to our
girls; and, during this season, the Christmas story was a much repeated
favorite.  Being a natural storyteller and intent on making sure his
daughters knew the true Christmas story, Ken would tell the birth of
Jesus with great enthusiasm and drama.  We weren’t sure how much their
young minds comprehended, but we were genuine in our desire to glorify
God with our Christmas celebrations.   Yet, Ken still was uncomfortable
about having the Christmas tree and other “pagan” celebrations in our
home, but God was about to give us a sign.

Come back tomorrow to find out how.
Joi (aka Amanda's mom)

This is a repost from last year.  Originally posted here.

a one-line autobiography

I have a guest blogger today who has been studying the book of Romans recently.  I'll let him take care of the introductions:

Let me introduce myself.  I am Amanda’s Dad.  That’s important to me: simple, short and concise.  I am proud of my three kids, and every time I get the opportunity I routinely assert, "My oldest daughter is a college professor in Taiwan, my baby girl is a victim’s assistance counselor with the Arlington Police Department, and my 13 year old son is a miracle birth."

I love the subtle simplicity of Paul’s masterful introduction of himself in Romans 1:1.  He identified himself as an instrument invited to be immersed in a mission with a message.  Or as the English Standard Version states it, "Paul, a bond-servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God."  Actually, our English translations of Paul’s first sentence covers seven verses, but what we call verse one, I call "a one-line autobiography" or a "masterful introduction."

Think about it for a moment, how we usually introduce ourselves. We use our vocation or personal significance, what we do or who we are, as the central statement of "this is who I am."  I am a plumber, pastor, mommy, single, divorcee, etc.  Prior to most speeches by a guest speaker, some chosen individual recites a litany of the speaker’s accomplishments to set forth the identity of the speaker and the authority their message carries.

The beauty of Saul/Paul’s introduction to Romans is found in a closer look at the words he used.  Notice the name that Paul chose to go by. He was born "Saul, of Tarsus," but he chose to use his Gentile name, "Paul."  Paul was formerly a Hebrew religious zealot; his new identity is that of one who seeks to identify with the audience he wants to reach, Gentiles.  He chooses one simple word, a name of identity to say, "I, too, am like you."

Now notice the second phrase he uses, "a servant of Christ Jesus."  Actually the original word he used was doulos (slave).  Writing to an audience in an Empire that was highly populated with slaves; he classified himself as an instrument of the Redeemer.  Slaves came in all sizes, shapes and varying degrees of expertise.  Many slaves in the Roman Empire were of notable education and culture.  It was with great pride that some could say, "I am a slave of the Emperor."  With humble gratitude, Paul could say that his will was consumed in bound servitude to Messiah Savior, the Redeemer.

Kletos apostolos, that is the next identifier, “called to be an apostle.”  The Greek New Testament uses two different words for "called."  Kletos is about invitation rather than election.  "Would you like to come over for dinner,” now that is an invitation. ‘Called to be an apostle," that is an invitation to be a messenger.

Paul also says that he is "set apart" (separated) for the gospel of God.  Most of us are familiar with the word gospel (good news). But it is this word aphorizo (set apart) that is so captivating.  The verb aphorizo is a compound word composed of two words, "from" and "horizon."  Literally, the word means "off horizon."  Donald Grey Barnhouse tells the story of how this word came alive to him.  The short paraphrase is something like this: Sailing between England and the U.S., he had the opportunity to climb to the crow’s nest of the ship and observe the sunrise.  The horizon was awesome; the blending of hues and the majesty of creation reminded him of baking cookies with his mother when he was a child.  Mom would roll out the dough on a marble slab and he would "cut out" the cookies. Or should we say "off-horizon" the cookies.  The idea is that of being removed from one circumference of influence into another horizon. Or just to make it real simple, God had ripped Paul out of his former life and placed him in the circumference of Almighty God and His concerns.

Paul identified himself as an instrument invited to be immersed in a mission with a message. Such statements of profound simplicity are the product of lengthy thought and analysis. What we often quickly read over in order to get to "the good stuff" is actually quite good in and of itself.  Paul’s careful choice of words was actually the result of years of careful contemplation. Choice words of identity, crafted by an artisan word-smith.

I am still proud to be "Amanda’s dad," but I think I will work on another one liner. I need a new one liner that is carefully crafted as a humble recipient of grace and as beautiful as Paul’s. When I come up with it, I will let you know. Until then, it was nice to meet you; thank you for allowing me to introduce myself.

To read more of my dad's profound words of wisdom, check out his blog The Pratical Pulpit which is all about subtle simplicity.

Christmas Past, 1981 (part 2)

Today my guestblogger, my mom, finishes the story she started yesterday.  (Just FYI, the pics are from 1979 and 1980--it's the best I could do with what I have here with me in Taiwan.)

It was a warm Texas December night and a very special one for us (ok – very special to me, the sentimental one!).

It was our first time decorating a tree with a child old enough to participate.  We purchased a small Christmas tree from the local grocery store and carted it home on top of our Pinto station wagon.  Ken crafted a tree stand out of scrap wood and we placed the tree on top of our end table, hopefully out of the reach of our toddler’s (Sarah’s) grasp.  We placed the lights on the tree and Amanda and I began hanging ornaments.  She was so excited we were celebrating!  I was so excited – I got to keep the traditions!

It came time to turn off the overhead lights and plug in the Christmas tree lights.  As soon as the lights on the tree began shining, Amanda, overcome at the beauty of what she was seeing, spontaneously began to exclaim “Oh! Oh! Glory to God in the Highest!  Glory to God in the Highest!  Glory to God in the Highest!”  She raised her arms and began dancing around that small glowing tree praising God, repeating that phrase over and over just as the angels must have done on the first Christmas night.

I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed worship as genuine as the worship I saw that night!  Worship from one with such a pure heart and pure motives – a precious three-year-old, who knew only that we were celebrating the birth of Jesus and that our Christmas tree was shining just as the heavens were the night of His birth when angels praised God and proclaimed His glory. And, she wanted to celebrate and praise Him in the same way!

That Christmas, God gave us just what we needed through the faith and actions of a three-year-old child.  That experience changed our perspective on Christmas celebrations.  We both realized that a Christmas tradition held its meaning only in the heart of the person participating in the tradition – you could focus on the warm and fuzzy feelings felt by reliving the tradition or you could focus on the original intent of the tradition or you could focus on the One for Whom you were celebrating as you participated in the tradition.

In our family, we choose to focus not on feelings or original intent, but on the Reason we were celebrating.

Each year, as we decorate our tree, it is a family tradition to tell the story of the night we worshipped with Amanda around our first family decorated Christmas tree. We seek to have the same worshipful heart as a three-year-old who, though only looking at the lights on a small Christmas tree, saw a sky filled with a host of heavenly angels proclaiming God’s glory at the birth of His Son and joyfully joined in the angels’ praises.

Now that is giving meaning to a Christmas tradition!

~Joi

Amanda: Isn't that a great story!! I just LOVE it!!  My mom is so right . . . when we look at our Christmas traditions--or any traditions for that matter--we can foucs on one of three things: (1) warm, fuzzy feelings, (2) original intent, or (3) Christ. 

For me and my sister (I think she would agree with me), that now as adults, because our parents focused on Christ at Christmas, the "warm, fuzzy feelings" of the holiday didn't dissappear but were intensified.  It is not that our traditions became stoic--how can worship of the long-awaited Savior be emotionless?  No, the "fuzzy feelings" didn't dissappear, they just were not the reason we did the things we did. 

As adults, my sister and I anticipate Christmas traditions becuase we are excited to worship the King of kings and Lord of lords; we look forward to being able to express our love for him in unique once-a-year Christmas ways.  Through participating in Christmas traditions, we enjoy being able to proclaim "Oh! Oh! Glory to God in the highest!!" and "Jesus, we love you!!" 

Like Sarah said in a comment last week:

as a child it was so neat to me to tell Jesus happy birthday and it
was the beginning of me really realizing as such a young child that I
could speak to Him and sing to Him, and not just about Him.

I too though have the sweet, precious, innocent, warm-fuzzy feelings
and memories attached to this song, and thought that life was GREAT and that everyone
loved Christmas and Jesus just as much as we did.

Christmas Past, 1981 (part 1)

I, Amanda, asked my mom to share one of my family's favorite Christmas stories.  So, today and tomorrow she is guest blogging here at following an unknown path.  Now, without further adieu, let my mom take you back 25 years, to the Christmas of 1981 . . .

Christmastime is supposed to be a time of joy and celebration, but there was conflict in our household.  My husband and I disagreed for most of our newly married four years on how we should celebrate Christmas and neither of us wanted to give up any ground.  However our children were getting older (3 years and 18 months), and we needed to reach an agreement on how our young family would celebrate this season.

I am the sentimental one in our family.  I love the Christmas season, all of it: the lights, the tree, the presents, cookie baking, surprises and secrets, being with family and of course, celebrating the Reason for the Season – God becoming a man and dwelling among us in order to fulfill His plan of redemption.

On the other hand, I don’t think my husband has a sentimental bone in his body!  He is very practical, very logical, extremely well-grounded in Scripture and very matter-of-fact.  This particular Christmas, he was finishing his education at seminary and had learned that most of our traditional Christmas celebrations began as pagan rituals.  He would come home after seminary classes and explain to me what he had learned in class and the conflict would begin!  He didn’t want our family to take part in any celebration that did not glorify God.  With such a youthful intensity to do only that which glorified God, he didn’t want us to participate in some of the traditions I loved because of their original intent.

Technically I agreed, I certainly didn’t want to be a part of anything that didn’t glorify God!…..but I couldn’t imagine Christmas without all the traditions I had grown up with and loved nor could I imagine not sharing those traditions with my children. 

After much discussion and heart searching, we decided we would keep Christmas traditions as a part of our celebration (yeah! – I could still have a Christmas tree!!), and purposefully seek to make the true meaning of Christmas the focus in our family by telling the Christmas story often to our young girls and singing religious Christmas carols with them. 

It was our routine to read or tell bedtime stories each night to our girls; and, during this season, the Christmas story was a much repeated favorite.  Being a natural storyteller and intent on making sure his daughters knew the true Christmas story, Ken would tell the birth of Jesus with great enthusiasm and drama.  We weren’t sure how much their young minds comprehended, but we were genuine in our desire to glorify God with our Christmas celebrations.   Yet, Ken still was uncomfortable about having the Christmas tree and other “pagan” celebrations in our home, but God was about to give us a sign.

Come back tomorrow to find out how.
Joi (aka Amanda's mom)