I’ll admit it right off the bat…I’m a Christmas Junkie.

I love Christmas.  At 45 years of age, I still slow down to look at cool displays of exterior holiday lighting, and run through the house in my pajamas at random moments shouting “It’s almost Christmas!”.

I think my love for this holiday is two-fold.  For one thing, there were eleven or more years of my life spent without Christmas.  According to the belief system of the church I was a part of when I started following Jesus, Christmas, as with all popular holidays, had a pagan origin and should not be indulged in by God fearing Christians.  Even after I left that church, I still struggled with my participation in the holidays.  I just remember one day, walking through a department store alone, trying to avert my eyes from the beautiful decorations, and it seemed to me (you don’t have to believe it) that the Lord spoke to me. 

“What are you afraid of?”

“Well…I’m not supposed to be afraid of anything….perfect love casts out all fear.”  Slowly, my tight resistance to the holiday began to loosen.

For some reason that little exchange woke me up.  This was no different from eating meat sacrificed to idols.  Paul made it clear, those things mean nothing, it has everything to do with our own conscience (Romans 14, 1 Cor 10) and what we do with it.  I could celebrate this holiday and let it be the warm, wonderful family holiday I wanted it to be.

(By the by, John MacArthur has written a really good article about the origins of the Christmas tree which I think puts to rest any worries about pagan connections to our dear tanenbaum.)

I think the other reason I’m a Christmas Junkie is the way it transports me back to a different time in my life.  A time of innocence and ardent anticipation of good things to come.  I believe there is a place for that sort of thing in the Christ Follower’s life.  In so many ways, the childish rush of Christmas joy is a foretaste of what can be found in a life centered on Jesus.  That’s the way I put Christ into Christmas…by seeing this holiday as a point of reference.

How about you?  Are you in to Christmas, or is it a drag?  Got your holi-dizzle in full effect, or do you think this is a heapin’ helpin’ of pagan stew?

Ok, so I was reading a blog, and it was an article on Steven Baldwin’s activities to “cool up” Christianity.  The article is found here….and you need to read it before you read my post.

Here’s the thing….at first I was all “you gotta’ be kidding me, this is stupid, Christianity will never be cool”, etc.  My usual tirade.  But then I started really thinking about it…about how Jesus would react to my reaction (so to speak).  So I wrote a little story.  Enjoy.

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John and another disciple were out of breath when they finally found Jesus.  They stood before him, huffing to get air into thier lungs after what appeared to be a long run.

“Jesus….puff, puff….we….did something….huff…..for you.” said one of the disciples.

“Yeah!” exclaimed John, bending over and holding his side, “we….fixed a real……problem!”

Jesus squinted his eyes, and let slip a barely perceptible “yikes” through his lips.

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Jesus, “what problem did you fix?” he said, making quotation marks in the air at his last word.

“We found this guy…and he was setting people free from the devil, but he wasn’t one of us!  He was using strange terms, like gnarly and awesome…and we knew those weren’t words that we use.” said the one disciple, his face aflush.

“Yeah…and they had skateboards and ramps and….well….what in the world does that have to do with what we’re doing?  Anyway, he’s not one of us, so I told him to knock it off!” John said, with a flourish of his hand.

“You told him what?” asked Jesus, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I told him that in order to use your name, he had to be like us, and part of our group, using our words and our approved methodology.” John was beaming.

Jesus groaned, and began rubbing his temples. “Guys….John…you can’t do that.  John, what did you say this guy was doing in my name?”

“Trying to set people free from bondage to evil…but don’t worry Jesus, we made him stop!”

“Were people being set free John?”

“Well…yeah, I guess, but that’s not the point, is it?  He isn’t one of us!  He was doing stuff that we should get to do, we’re the ones who’ve made the sacrifices to follow you.  Who does this guy think he is, just coming on the scene and doing things like he was part of your plan?”

Jesus took in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.  “How much evil do you think there is in the world, John?”

“I don’t know….lots?”

“Yes John, lots.  Do you think there won’t be enough evil left for you to fight against if this guy fights evil too?  There is plenty of evil to go around John.  There are plenty of demons to cast out, everyone will have more than their fair share of work to do, you don’t have to worry about that.  John, those who use my name for good are not your enemy.  You only have one enemy, and this guy aint him.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”

John had the look of someone who was slowly coming awake.  His head began to slowly nod, like an engine starting to chug and a smile emerged on his face.  “I get it Jesus!  You want us to go and make him one of US!  C’mon guys, lets go get this guy!”

The disciples raced off down the road, arguing about who would be in charge of training the new guy.

Jesus called out after them, waving his hands for them to listen to him, “He who is not against us in ON our side!”.  But the disciples couldn’t hear him.

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You can read the real story in Mark 9:38-40

Giddy.  That’s how I’d describe it.

 

Obviously, the term “giddy” doesn’t seem right, but it’s the only word that comes to mind which is even close…but it’s really more than giddy, it’s deeper, this sensation that I feel.

 

There is something about those Burning House meetings that I haven’t experienced in any other regular meeting of the church since I first began hanging out with the church.  It’s not something connected to our order of the service.  It’s not the songs we sing, even though there certainly is a lot of passion expressed during those songs.  It’s something else.

 

As I stand in the room, and catch glimpses of all the different people, I almost feel like I need to avert my eyes, the reverence I feel for God is so strong in those moments.  I feel like Moses before the burning bush.  The atmosphere is not what is usually associated with moments of awe and reverence…people are talking, laughing, chewing and sipping from plastic cups.  Almost without exception, there are smiles stretched across every face in the room.  Here and there, I witness glassy eyes that are barely containing tears from a torrent.

 

In those moments, no one would know it, but I start trembling.  It’s involuntary…but it begins in my knees and reverberates all through me.  I look at the smiling faces, the joy, the bread, the cup; all I can think about are Paul’s words to the Corinthians “…he who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body.”  If I understand Paul correctly, my sense of reverential awe is coming from this brush with Jesus Christ Himself, present in His body, the church.

 

We’ve been accused in the past of doing a disservice to the communion service in our Burning House meetings.  I couldn’t disagree more strongly.  I understand that it’s very different from a traditional approach, and I understand it requires a loosened grip on our former definitions of “reverence”.  It may not be everyone’s cup of tea…but I believe with all my heart we are on a good heading with it.

 

I wish I were a poet, or at least someone who is good with words, then maybe I could articulate what I experience at those meetings.   I watch a young man, a teenager, laughing with his friends, sharing torn bits of bread, handing a cup to one of his peers.  I watch him, his eyes closed, head held high, mouthing words of prayer for the one he holds hands with.  I see him, his face aflame with passion, his hands outstretched to heaven as he sings about his Great Redeemer. 

 

He’s not alone.  His passion is repeated all over the room, and my knees want to buckle because I’m in the presence of the body of Jesus.  The abyss of His love is like a vortex we’re drawn into.

Burning House keeps me alive.  There are a lot of things in life that I’m convinced are designed to kill me…at least emotionally.  I battle discouragement and depression on a daily basis, and sometimes I just don’t win.  But at Burning House I tremble before that Something So Much Bigger than myself, and I find strength…vitality, inspiration, motivation…to press ahead in the journey.  I can smile, remembering that none of this is dependent on me.  I’m too frail, too flawed for that.  It all rests with Jesus, present in His body.