The most profitable time of the year

I was looking through the mail the other day with my wife when we noticed something odd. The shopping season had begun in earnest, and we were looking through about a half-dozen full-color ads, full of artificial trees, colorful lights, tinsel and garland, and all of this year's must-have toys.

But something was missing. One word. "Christmas."

In a land of sacred tolerance and religious freedom, it seems that the Christians are always the exception to the rule, as though there is an asterisk next to the word "tolerance" in some cultural lexicon, footnoted with the explanation "but not for Christians." For example, one school district in New York recently decked the halls with Hanukkah and Kwanzaa decorations. When asked why there were no Christmas decorations, the principal responded, "I don't want to offend anyone." And another school in Plano, Texas ripped down a student's art project because, when asked to put a message on her picture, she had the audacity to write the words "Jesus loves me." If there ever was a time in America for Christians to lovingly and graciously defend our religious freedom, that time has come.

So what does this have to do with our "Holiday" ads? It's very simple, really. We are reaping in our larger culture the seeds we have sown in our educational system. Every time we teach kids to believe that there are no absolutes (except the absolute that there are no absolutes) or that tolerance of someone's belief's implies an ignorance that renders us unable to think critically about those beliefs, we are teaching them that Christianity should be discriminated against. For Christianity teaches that there are moral absolutes that have been given to us by a particular God, and that systems of belief (both sacred and secular) can be examined philosophically, ethically, and experientially. So, couched in words of tolerance and respect, our educational system has methodically taught millions of us that true Christianity doesn't play by the rules.

So what are the "tolerant" elite in a society to do about the inconvenient fact that millions of us hold beliefs that they have been wrongly taught are intolerant or even hateful? Well that's easy. The world may be becoming less tolerant of our beliefs, but they are no less welcoming toward our cash. So those ads that came in our mailbox were full of "Holiday Trees," "Winter Lights," "Seasonal Greeting Cards" and the like. The message is clear: give us your money and we'll help supply your holiday needs; just don't bother us with those troublesome religious trappings.

So, as Margie engaged in more substantive reading, I found myself pouring through every inch of a well-known merchant's "Holiday Catalog." My mission: I was in search of Christmas. Unfortunately, I didn't have much luck. After 35 minutes of searching, I had managed to find the C-word exactly twice. Both times, the word "Christmas" was not in the ad copy that the merchant themselves had written, but rather in tiny, nearly-indiscernible print in the product picture. So while the ad copy said "Holiday Treats," there was one package in the picture that actually said "Christmas Candy." Similarly, I spotted the words "Merry Christmas" in the picture of what we were told was a "Seasonal Greeting Card."

For the record, this was not one of the national merchants that have come under fire recently for banishing the Salvation Army or for eliminating the word "Christmas" from its stores. I guess that means that this merchant is "friendly" toward Christmas? To be fair, I did see the word "Navidad" once, actually written into the ad copy for a "Musical Holiday Ornament" that would play the song Feliz Navidad. I guess it's OK to mention Christmas, as long as it's not in English. So if you want to fly under the radar, maybe you should send out some Froeliche Weihnachten cards this year.

Beneath the obvious omission of the word "Christmas" from these ads lurks the deeper truth of what's going on. While Christians across the nation are fretting over the disappearance of the word "Christmas" from public view, we almost take for granted that another word is also MIA. That word? "Jesus," of course. It almost goes without saying that as goes the Christmas Tree, so goes Nativity. If we can't make public reference to the word "Christmas" without apology, then the word "Jesus" certainly presents an even more bothersome taboo.

I don't know about you, but such methodical "secular sanitization" of one of Christianity's main holidays is actually very motivating to me. For example, I have been trying to make sure I tell people at work Happy Thanksgiving, and I will be sure to tell them Merry Christmas too, whenever I have the opportunity. Since I work at a government institution, this is a very easy way to mark myself as dissenting from the secularization of my heritage.

But the secularization of Christmas also reminds me that I live in an increasingly post-Christian culture. In such a culture, I am finding more and more people that really believe that Christianity is intolerant, hateful, and as exclusivist as a religious country club. Against that background, I am finding more and more people who have never before spoken to someone who takes faith in Jesus seriously.

As sad as this is, it is also means that it is easier for the true gospel to catch people off guard, shining in its own glorious and unexpected light. If the secularization of Christmas helps sift the true believers out from among those who are only nominally or culturally Christian, then it just might help us communicate more clearly about Christmas, and Jesus, when we have a chance. And if that happens, maybe it can still be the "most wonderful time of the year."

Spiritual Spinach - food for the soul when you can't stands no more

An short, ugly tar with a slow-burning fuse, Popeye the Sailor Man was actually a fairly patient guy. In spite of his reputation as a brawling hothead, Popeye could actually tolerate a fair amount of abuse, almost to a fault. You could almost say that he was a peace-loving man at heart who preferred, whenever possible, to find solace from life's little challenges in his own quiet mumblings rather than through wrestling and fisticuffs.

Almost. But the fact is that not every trial of life was deemed a "little challenge" to Popeye. In particular, whenever his true love, the sometimes fickle but uniquely attractive Olive Oyl, was threatened, Popeye became a man possessed. He just could not bear to see any harm befall his beloved Olive. Popeye's great rivals, Bluto (and later, Brutus), never seemed to learn the lesson that you just don't mess with a sailor's girl. Even though his opponents were at least twice his size and immensely strong, once Popeye's wrath was roused, there was no saving Bluto or any other rival for Olive's affection.

Of course, we all knew it was over when two things happened. The first was the Popeye's immortal utterance, "That's alls I can stands, and I can't stands no more!" And with those words, everyone knew the fight was on. At first, this was actually a pretty bad thing for Popeye. You see, once stirred into action, Popeye would let his passion blind him to some really important and obvious facts, such as the immense size and strength of his opponent. So Popeye typically got himself into a terrific mess at this point, frequently appearing to be on the verge of leaving his troubles behind ... for good.

But that's when when the tide would turn. Always, somehow, in just the nick of time, our favorite sailor man would get his hands on a can of spinach. It was not always clear where the spinach came from, or how the can was actually opened, but all of that was academic. Somehow, once Popeye had popped open that can of spinach and inhaled its contents, everything changed.

Popeye, newly endowed with superhuman strength, would mete out his own particular brand of justice upon Olive's tormentors. Typically the fight would end with an uppercut that could best be described as having the mechanics of a windmill moving at the speed of a outboard propeller. Olive would be saved, Popeye would live to fight another day, and Bluto would skulk off to some dark corner of the world to devise his next attack. So, although he was sometimes slow to provoke into action, you didn't want to be on the wrong side of Popeye of things once his passion was stirred.

I don't know about you, but I can relate to Popeye. I know what it's like to live most of my life with a too-long fuse, as though there's really nothing worth fighting for. I know what it's like to be have a soft and spineless soul, caring more about keeping the peace than about helping those in need. And I know what it's like to underestimate the strength of my enemies and the intensity of the battles they bring, believing instead that I can get by on my own strength and resources.

However, there are some things in life that rouse my spirit. Every now and then, when I see the church of Christ look away from people's hurt and pain, I think that maybe there is something worth fighting for. Occasionally, when I hear the cries of those whose voices will soon be lost if God's children do not act, I start to feel my spirit grow strong and I begin to understand that keeping the peace in my own life is no substitute for fighting the good fight. I hear a voice, deep inside my soul, crying out to be heard: "that's alls I can stands, and I can't stands no more!" And yet I know that I need strength for the battle, or else I will be blinded by my passion, overestimating my abilities and underestimating my opponent.

But every once in a while, I have actually known what it's like to reach out in desperation to a power beyond myself and to find myself being fed Spiritual Spinach - food for the soul providing just the strength I need, just when I need it.

The purpose of this blog will be twofold. First, I want to reflect on some things in this world that, when we reflect on them, ought to bring out a Popeye Moment in our souls. What is it that just makes you want to scream, "I can't stands no more?" And second, I want to focus on Spiritual Spinach - the surprising ways in which God gives us strength for the fight and food for the soul. How can you learn to reach out when all seems hopeless, finding the strength you need to prevail? Better yet, how can we train ourselves to expect this strange provision of God, so that any battle in life causes us to fight on with expectancy, not despair, as we wait to see God's provision for the moment?

This blog is copyrighted 2005 by Chris Leonard. The concept of Spiritual Spinach is based on a talk given by Bill Hybels at Leadership Summit 2005.