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Author: Daniel

Fifteen years later – a new perspective of when my life imploded

It’s been just over fifteen years since my life imploded, sending me into an unexpected and dark trajectory.

Fifteen years.

February 17, 2008, in the British Midlands, I walked out of an academic office after an hour of two examiners thrashing my thesis to a pulp.

My supervisor was confident of success. After all, of his 150 previous postgraduates that he supervised, only one had been rejected.

I was number two.

I so vividly remember the numbness and fog walking off that campus for the last time.

My wife had been planning a big celebration the day after I returned home. I remember the pain of calling my —the middle of the night back home—to tell her it didn’t go well.

So much time wasted—years, money, effort—up in smoke. read more

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Betraying Jesus

An excerpt from the chapter “The Betrayer” from my book Losers Like Us

Was Judas Iscariot predetermined to betray Jesus? Was he placed on this earth solely for the purpose of selling Jesus out? After all, as the syllogism goes: Jesus is God; God is omniscient; therefore Jesus is omniscient. At some point, Jesus had to know that Judas would betray him, so it appears safe to assume that Judas lived only to betray the Messiah and, if so, that he also stood beyond redemption.

But that doesn’t ring true either. It seems to fly in the face of God’s character and of Jesus’s mission. Although I have no qualifications to judge such things, this smacks of injustice to me.

Another difficult question is, why did Judas do what he did? Was it his inescapable fate? Scripture says he did it because “Satan entered into him” (John 13:27). Similarly, Jesus at one point said directly to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan!” (Matt. 16:23). If both Judas and Peter experienced being taken over by Satan, then why did Peter go on to become a powerful follower of Christ, while Judas went on (as is traditionally assumed) to eternal damnation? read more

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Campus revival and the critics who follow

During my years in seminary, I wrote a research paper on revivals in America.

Now, I don’t mention that to pretend that I am somehow a world expert on revivals. Simply put, the subject intrigued me. I bring up that paper because of an observation that came out of it while doing the research: it appears that most—if not all—major revivals in America came out of the Christ-following youth.

Then

Many attributed the First Great Awakening to Jonathan Edwards, but Edwards attributed the start of the Awakening to the youth himself by observing the happenings at Yale University in 1741:

“This awakening was at the beginning of that extraordinary religious commotion through the land, which is fresh in everyone’s memory.  It was for a time very great and general at New-Haven; and the college had no small share in it…The students in general became serious, many of them remarkably so, and much engaged in the concerns of their eternal salvation.”[1] read more

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When death still stings

In the TV series 1883’s final episode, a young Elsa Dutton, having been mortally wounded by an Indian’s arrow, watched a jack rabbit munching on some grass with not a care in the world, and asked: “What is death? What is this thing we all share? Rabbits. Birds. Horses. Trees. Everyone I love. And everyone who loves me. Even stars die. And we know absolutely nothing of it.”

For some reason, those words haunted me.

For much of my life, I have been relatively sheltered from death. Going to funerals sums up the vast majority of my experience.

In the last two years, I have had to look at death directly in the face. Not my own, but in others.

In the fall of 2020, during the COVID craze, I lost my dad. I was recovering from a double-whammy case of COVID and pneumonia which hospitalized me for a week and which included one night in intensive care. read more

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Shock and awe at the Grammys: one Christian’s response

By now many of us heard about artist Sam Smith’s musical number at the Grammy awards: a choreographed “dance” of a satanic ritual.

Smith performed his song “Unholy” dressed as the devil and bathed in intense red light while dancers ritualistically undulated around him.

On national TV.

The Christian response was swift and blunt: What the world watched was evil.

Political commentator Matt Walsh stated, “It’s not surprising to see a satanic ritual at the Grammy’s. Satanism is the worship of the self. Much of modern pop music is satanic in this sense. Leftism is satanism. The only change is that now they’re being more explicit about it.”

Conservative Charlie Kirk tweeted with more than a little sarcasm: “Definitely not a spiritual war.”

Republican Senator Ted Cruz stated, “This…is…evil.”

The Christian response was expressed in no uncertain terms. And having viewed the video myself, I completely agree. Although I can’t ignore the irony that Satanists also weren’t too thrilled with it either.[1] The portrayal of Satan and hell was more of a caricature, but the imagery was present. (Although can someone please tell me how total separation of God includes dancing women in cages?)

I am going to go out on a limb and say the Smith’s ultimate goal for this number wasn’t to promote Satanism and proselytize young minds into worshiping the Dark One.

I think Smith’s objective was two-fold: shock and awe. The shock materializes in the collective gasp in Body of Christ, while the awe rises from the uber-trendier folks in the media who will describe the production with adjectives such as edgy, daring, and provocative. If that was his objective, he succeeded.

Honestly since first hearing of Smith’s performance, my cynical filter went down. I couldn’t help but wonder if we’re being played.

I have seen this game played before. Frequently.

I have a couple of reasons for thinking this way.

First, the entertainment industry has been hemorrhaging audiences and therefore dollars. Over the last several years, entertainment award shows—including the Grammys—have consistently receive lower and lower ratings to the point of irrelevance. Box office sales are down. Creativity seems to have been exhausted. Celebrity interviews are generally received more and more with a collective “meh.”

To an industry packed full of manical egomaniacs, this is Defcon 5, the apocalypse, the worst case scenario. It’s like taking meth from an addict.

Like addicts, they need a fix. The entertainment industry’s fix is attention.

And the most popular method to do that is to one-up the last shocking event, whatever that might be. For example, over the decades, the singer Madonna has become an expert at reinventing herself every few years, each time becoming more and more provocative than the last time. Each year, TV networks produce more and more sensational violence and sex, and when that doesn’t do it enough, they make a character come out as gay, or they rebrand a favorite character as the opposite sex.

Offensive? Sure.

But, the industry shrugs, we’re talking about it.

Negative attention is still attention.

That’s the feeling that kept creeping up in me the week following the Grammy performance. What’ll it be next time? Human sacrifice? Showing Jesus as a transvestite? What can the industry do next to keep people talking about them?

The second reason for my somewhat cynical response has to do with a relatively new element in the industry called something like interactive art. Basically, this claims the audience’s reaction is, in and of itself, a part of the art.

In 1989, an artist named Andres Serrano, using taxpayer’s dollars, photographed a crucifix soaking in a glass filled with urine, calling the exhibit “Piss Christ.” Naturally, the outrage among Christianity was deeply felt and widely expressed.

However, to the artist, that offensiveness was to be expected, thus making the Christian’s response to this photo an integral part of the exhibit.

Needless to say, the entertainment industry’s default is to try to get a rise out the body of Christ. Their game plan seems to be: 1) be as offensive as possible; 2) use Christian outrage to add to their straw man that Christians are judgmental, uncultured prudes.

I sense when Christians respond, we’re playing into their hands.

This begs the question: how should a Christ-follower respond to blatant acts of evil and offense?

Part of me thinks to just ignore it. Don’t play into their hands. This is the way the world is, and we shouldn’t be surprised. Satan has been defeated—nothing can undo that. However, that doesn’t mean Satan is not present. His purpose in his final days is to create chaos, and truthfully, I don’t think he’s all that intimidated by our social media posts.

On the other hand, quiet prayer within the Christian community will stop Satan in his tracks.

That, of course, seems like the quintessential Sunday School answer, but nonetheless it is true. You believe in the power of prayer, or you don’t.

What do we pray for? Sam Smith for one. Kim Petras for another. The producers and participants of that musical number. The viewers that watched it. Jesus died for all of them. All of them are redeemable.

In addition, we should pray that Jesus shows us Christ-followers how to respond and/or what we should say.

This will be followed with more occurrences in which the world will push our buttons.

We shouldn’t be shocked by the world’s actions.

Perhaps it would be more productive to respond not with outrage but with sympathy.

Sympathy for those who know not what they do.

[1] Dani Di Placido, “Sam Smith Grammy Performance Criticized by Conservatives and Satanists,” Forbes. February 10, 2023. https://www.forbes.com/sites/danidiplacido/2023/02/10/sam-smiths-grammys-performance-criticized-by-conservatives-and-satanists/?sh=42241e7730b1

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Following Jesus in a wild world of relativism

I often look at the world around me with bewilderment and wonder whether I the one missing something.

Am I just not getting it?

Surely, I can’t be the only one connecting the dots between the current reality and insanity.

I don’t claim I am the only sane person in the world. I just have trouble understanding it.

And that has occasionally boiled over into frustration.

Recently a major paradigm shift has increased exponentially with each passing year. Symptoms include inconsistency, slippery definitions, construction of truth narratives filled with blatant yet unrecognized contradictions, and lack of self-awareness. This shift is happening institutionally, culturally, and even individually.

It’s everywhere.

Before the 118th Congress met, news broke that Republican Congressman-elect George Santos of New York had lied about pretty much everything on his resume: his ancestry, education, employment, charity work, etc.

His response: “This will not deter me from having good legislative success. I will be effective. I will be good.”[1]

How will he be good—when he is an outright liar? In a courtroom, when a person gets caught in a lie, everything he or she says before and after loses all credibility. Why hasn’t this guy bowed out?

Several years ago, around the 2016 election, I talked with a Trump supporter who knowingly passed on articles and posts that were either suspect, or totally made up. When I questioned this, he shrugged. It didn’t matter what was true. It only mattered that Trump got elected.

The other side (one famous past example was then-senator Harry Reid) also has been caught doing exactly the same thing.

In 2022, the United States’ economy entered into a recession based on the definition of the word used by Democrats and Republicans, journalists and economists, as well as the most in the business communities for nearly 50 years.[2]

Yet suddenly the administration — widely blamed for causing it — changed the definition. Thus, apparently, the financial struggle of many Americans is all in our heads.

Last year, the president himself claimed gas was five dollars a gallon when he took office, apparently to take credit for bringing it “down” to $3.39 at that time.

But in truth, gas documentably averaged $2.39 per gallon the day he took office, and its skyrocket to over $5 per gallon was clearly after he had been at the helm for a full eighteen months. [3]

What is incredibly disturbing is “fact-checkers,” self-proclaimed gatekeepers of facts, are nothing more than partisan stooges. In several cases, Snopes, a long-time legitimate source for rebuffing urban legends and conspiracy theories, fact-checked many articles from the Babylon Bee, a satirical site that actually makes no effort to hide it..

A “fact-check” page fact-checking a satire site whose motto is “Fake News You Can Trust”?

And we’re suddenly confronted with, out of nowhere, dozens of new genders, each with new made-up pronouns.

To question this makes you the bad guy.

My favorite example of a world gone mad was when journalists, who for years defended the “moderation” of conservatives on Twitter, screamed “fascism” when Elon Musk bought Twitter and in turn started moderating them.

It made me wonder how they somehow could not see the irony.

Every new day seems to outdo the previous ones.

However, I honestly don’t think the world has simply gone insane or that the inmates are running the asylum.

It has more to do with the dominant worldview that has settled into the majority of the country: relativism.

This reality is what you get when every individual believes he or she has the authority to construct their own reality, their own truth.

Relative, the root word of relativism, is, relatively speaking, a harmless word. It means in relation to or in proportion to some else. If I tell a group to think of a “red vehicle,” all will imagine something different. Some might describe a red Ferrari. Others might think of a red ’69 Camaro. Others a red truck.

Further, each person might see a different shade of red: fire engine red, dark red, etc.

The definition each person comes up with when thinking of a “red vehicle” imagines it in relation to their own interests, culture, and preferences.

There is nothing wrong with that. Unless you apply it to everything and take it to its extreme: total relativism.

Relativism is a philosophy in which knowledge, truth, and morality are constructed in relation to culture or a particular context (geographical, historical, etc.). Truth is constructed according to these things.

And since truth and knowledge are constructed, the relativists believe neither can be absolute. Facts are not necessarily facts, and truth is simply created in a group, tribe, or mind.

Therefore, if I wanted to be a different gender or species, that is my truth, and no one can tell me otherwise.

Further, relativism is not about seeking that which is true; it is about constructing the narrative. It holds that all truth is created, so I can create any narrative I desire.

Thus, I am not accountable to an absolute truth which transcends all cultures and historical contexts.

This is now the dominant worldview in the United States.

And it is why nothing makes sense.

It is not enough for the Christ-follower to shake their heads in disgust (which admittedly I tend to do) or lament days gone by.

We must keep in mind that God is not surprised by America’s current condition. When Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, God knew this would be the result.

And so did the crafty serpent.

To Eve, the serpent said: “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:5). In other words: you will be like God. You get to personally define (construct) what is good and evil.

When humans get to decide good and evil, right and wrong, and even truth itself, you have the mess of relativism.

Yet this is the world the Christ-follower is called to reach.

Christians often try to combat relativism with reason and rational arguments. But this, frankly, seldom works. People who build their own reality couldn’t care less if they are contradicting themselves.

Relativism is full of contradictions. For example, if a woman says there is no such thing as absolute truth, she often has zero awareness that her statement is an absolute statement in and of itself.

Further, I could tell another that my personal truth says it is justified for me to steal. I am pretty sure he would protest if I went for his wallet.

But he would not connect the dots.

Satan’s temptation to be your own god and creating your own definition of good and evil is just too exciting to worry about any contradictions.

But we absolutely have to remember that Jesus died for relativists too. When on the cross he prayed, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do,” he was praying it for them as well as me.

So how does a follower of Jesus live and function in this world that we’re also commanded to reach?

In the Gospel of John, Jesus says, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (John 12:32).

Our job is to be Jesus to the world around us. We are to go to the scripture itself not to learn how to make the perfect rational argument against relativism (or other worldviews) but to teach ourselves how Jesus specifically interacted with the lost.

What does it mean to “love our neighbors as ourselves” (Matthew 22:39)?

How do I live the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3-10) in responding to the relativist society?

What is my answer to the question “who is my neighbor” (Luke 10:25-37)?

How do I speak the truth of Jesus Christ to a lost world with love lest I come across as an obnoxiously clanging cymbal (1 Corinthians 13:1-2)?

How can I help others by being salt that is tasty, not bitter, or a light that is guiding not blinding? (Matthew 5:13)?

These are tough questions that every Christ-follower must meditate on and pray about. This is how we navigate our respective roles in the Great Commission.

Make no mistake, we live in a relativist, post-Christian culture. That will not change. Christianity is now marginalized. For speaking truth, we’re considered crazy.. Gene Veith in his book Post-Christian wrote: “Those who would impose their morality on those who do not share it, those who demand conformity, and those who punish the dissenters are now the militant secularists. Christians are not used to being considered ‘the wicked.’ But we should probably get used to it.”

We must be sure of our priorities in the Kingdom worldview.

Fighting and beating the relativist culture isn’t our end game.

Making disciples in a relativist society is.

[1] https://www.foxnews.com/politics/new-york-rep-elect-george-santos-confesses-lies-about-his-resume

[2] https://www.forbes.com/advisor/investing/what-is-a-recession/

[3] https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/politics/biden-falsely-says-the-price-of-gas-was-more-than-dollar5-when-he-took-office/ar-AA13sEx4

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The not-so-secret secret to a happy new year

And just like that, Christmas is over.

Living rooms now contain cold corners where Christmas trees once stood. Decorations have disappeared in homes and stores. Christmas music—the mere thrill of playing it in November—now feels a little stale. The pace has geared down to a trudge. Christmas goodies found on every aisle in every store are now crammed into a single space with giant 50%-off signs. The snow and chill of December often described as white and brilliant are now considered gray and bone-chilling.

The week after Christmas serves as a reality check that real life continues to roll on.

We attempt to extend the hope of the holidays one final time on December 31—New Year’s Eve. People will gather all over the world to count down the final ten seconds of 2022 before shouting, amidst a flurry of confetti: “Happy New Year!”

Then, the social construct goes, millions will drink their body weight in liquor and start kissing strangers.

And then, just like that, the celebration of New Year’s Eve is over (though millions will celebrate the start of 2023 with a killer hangover).

So why do millions scream out “Happy New Year” precisely at midnight?

Perhaps it’s just the thing people say.

Still, how many of us are actually conscious of the collective wish the moment we wake up the next morning?

Most don’t, and even won’t, think about it until the next December 31.

So why is celebrating the new year so important?

To some, welcoming in a new year is simply a sigh of relief; 2022 was a difficult year for them. While there may have been good times and blessings, overwhelming stress and loss seemed to predominate. They’re just thankful they made it through the sorrows and uncertainties. They see the new year as a blank slate, a fresh start.

Others see the new year as a challenge, a time to reassess their goals, improve their circumstances, or plan new adventures. The new year is a springboard to exciting new things. They proclaim that 2023 is their year.

Unfortunately, both of these approaches are doomed to failure. For the first group, stress and grief are not going to grind to a halt with the turning of the calendar year. Come January 2, the struggles will still be there. They will likely continue in one manner or another.

For the second group, they will find they are in control of nothing. Don’t get me wrong; goals are great and helpful. However, when we couch them as “resolutions” made traditionally on a single day, they’re forgotten by the end of the month, masked by the typical doldrums of life. Further, life is incredibly skilled at throwing curve balls when you least expect it. Whatever was the center of focus on New Year’s Eve goes out the window with the first setback. Members of this second group might even find themselves in the first group by the end of the year.

Ironically, those from the first group might even find themselves next December with an unexpected promotion or adventure.

The truth is, we just don’t know what 2023 holds for each of us.

So, does this make the “Happy New Year” an empty wish?

Not at all.

To have a happy 2023 has nothing to do with a clean slate or goals no matter how clearly defined. A happy new year is not about surviving loss or stress. Nor is it about accomplished resolutions.

Either one of those perspectives can be achieved yet neither automatically warrants a happy new year.

To live with happiness in the new year is to live with the prayer Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before his death, “Not my will but your will be done” (Luke 22:42).

For me, this is one of the hardest prayers in the Bible.

For the group that celebrates the new year as a new start, it could mean the suffering will continue. Life will always carry suffering and grief. Who wants that?

What it does mean, however, is suffering knowing that Jesus will be in it with them.

For the second group, the idea of giving up control and letting God’s will be done is a little unsettling.

Whatever the case, a happy new year means living in the peace and strength of Jesus come what may.

2023 is staring us in the face. No one on earth knows exactly how it will end.

For true happiness in the new year, we must cling to the robe of the one who transcends time.

Jesus is the only certainty we have. And resting in the peace of Christ is ultimately that which will bring the happiness we all seek.

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Regaining your bearings when your kingdom crumbles

I tend to get into Christmas.

I mean really get into Christmas.

I am Clark Griswold. If I could cover my house in thousands of lights, I would risk my well-being to string them up. If I could find a tree too big for my living room, I would cut it down and figure out a way. I am proud of that identity. I own it. I have no inhibitions.

However, this Christmas feels a little more subdued. I still “don me now my gay apparel” (Oh, how I wish the original meaning of that word hadn’t been hijacked): Christmas tee-shirts, and neckties, and an over-the-top Santa hat. I watch Christmas movies like A Christmas Story, Christmas Vacation, and Die Hard (and, yes, it is a Christmas movie). I play carols incessantly without hesitation or shame (and those who constantly complain about Christmas music, I don’t care).

This year feels a bit different, more laid back. I still feel excited for the holiday. However, I felt I entered into this Christmas season more emotionally exhausted than anything else. I felt mentally spent, spiritually stressed out and tired.

The last few months were tough. Nearly everything in and around my house seemed to be falling apart. Our finances became frightfully stretched.

Years ago, the events of these previous months might have sent me into a meltdown.

My kingdom felt like it was crumbling.

However, thankfully, perhaps from experiencing the grace of God in my previous crises, as stressful as these months were, this time I never felt God had abandoned me.

I did not see my litany of mishaps as an absence of God or even as a divine punishment.

I can’t say I looked up at heaven from my pit bathed in a heavenly glow. The struggle with my flesh was present. However, I was able remember and believe that this was not my kingdom to begin with.

Further, at several points—even as late as last week–God wonderfully reminded my wife and I that he still sees us.

And that gave us peace.

This is how I entered into this Christmas season: with an odd mixture of exhaustion and peace.

The angels’ message to the shepherds also seemed meant for me: “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger” (Luke 2:10-12).

Do not be afraid. I bring you good news. The king has come.

When angels appear, they always start all their proclamations with “Do not be afraid.” It is these mighty beings who come to Mary and the lowly shepherds to announce the coming of the Prince of Peace. I find the angel’s assurance to not be afraid more than a little ironic. Angels are not adorable, chubby little infants, with rosy, red cheeks and dressed in diapers and wings. Try to imagine the angel guarding the east gate of the Garden of Eden with a flaming sword flashing back and forth as an adorable little two-year-old. It doesn’t jive. No, angels are powerful, intimidating and warrior-like entities whose presence evokes fear in those they encounter.

Yet their message is anything but threatening.

The angels are there to proclaim the arrival of the King of kings.

I have nothing to fear because in the middle of my own fragile, crumbling kingdom, Emmanuel has come to set up one that will never end. That is good news. It is reassuring to us in the midst of struggle.

This good news gave me the freedom not to wildly celebrate his arrival, but to rest in it. It’s like the angels said, specifically to me. “Do not be afraid. I bring good news. God sees you and has stepped into your crumbling kingdom and in doing so, brings peace. Now rest.”

Decompress.

Regain my bearings.

Rest.

Rest in the knowledge God’s got this. Rest in the fact that no matter how big our problems, he has no equal. Rest in the assurance that, whether some miraculous miracle drops fire from heaven for Elijah or I wind up on the ash heap like Job, God is here, with us.

Here.

Present.

Sometimes we celebrate the arrival of Christmas with wild passion and joy. I have seasons like that.

But sometimes we just need to celebrate its arrival with the peace to rest.

Let Emmanuel—God With Us—wrap you in his arms and whisper in your ear: Do not be afraid. I am here.

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The promise of peace

In 2014, I wrote about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem “Christmas Bells” in the context of an active shooter situation at a mall near my home in Portland, Oregon. The day after the shooting, I drove down to the mall, watching the police activity, the media frenzy, and the stunned onlookers standing in small groups still trying to grasp what had just happened.

As I drove around the mall, the carol “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” came over the radio.

That song has stuck with me ever since.

The thought of church bells piercing the grit, darkness, and violence of the times and proclaiming the arrival of a promised Messiah is burned into my mind.

Especially at the conclusion of each of the every subsequent year since. read more

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Darkness surrounded by Christmas

It’s no secret that Christmas falls during the month of December.

What isn’t as clear is the reason why.

“That’s easy,” one might reply. “It’s when Jesus was born.”

Actually, it wasn’t.

Most biblical historians place Jesus’s birth around either October(ish) or April(ish). They argue that shepherds would not have been out in the fields with their sheep in the dead of winter. It would have been far too cold, especially at night. (Fun fact: Christ likely wasn’t born in the year 0 AD either. Because of some miscalculations in the Gregorian calendar, he was probably born sometime between 3 to 5 BC.)

Secularists–and particularly militant atheists–enjoy rubbing that little detail into the face of unsuspecting Christians before adding, with gleeful snark, that the whole Christmas holiday is based on a pagan holiday filled with drunken debauchery, which is true.

To a point.

But the deconstruction of the Christmas narrative into a bunch of uncomfortable half-truths in no way minimizes the power of the Incarnation.

The decision by the early church to set the celebration of Jesus’s birth on December 25 was intentional.

Celebrating his birth on this date is not an attempt to deceive the masses about the actual date it happened, any more than is celebating his resurrection on the first Sunday following the first full moon after the Spring Equinox. It’s merely a date for global body of Christ to celebrate as one.

And–gasp!—Resurrection Sunday was also around the time of pagan holidays.

So why did the early church set the celebration of Jesus’s birth on December 25th? The answer is quite enlightening (pun very much intended).

With the shortest days of the year, December is shrouded in darkness more than any other month (at least in the northern hemisphere–the early church’s known world at the time). December can seem downright depressing. Further, the month also contains a solitary annual event: the winter solstice.

The winter solstice is the day the earth’s northern hemisphere is tilted furthest away from the sun, marking the official first day of winter. It is also the day considered the shortest of the year, with the northern-tier states of the US getting only about eight to nine hours of daylight, decreasing as one goes further north. People in northern Canada and Alaska receive only a few hours of light a day, and must hunker in for the cold, depressing darkness of winter.

However, though that solstice marks the shortest, darkest day of the year, it also marks the point after which the days begin to grow longer.

In other words, light is entering into the world.

Following the winter solstice by only a few days, December 25 marks both the coming of more daylight to dispel our physical darkness, and the coming of the Light of the World who dispels our spiritual darkness.

It feels like the two years following the whole COVID mess have been spiritually dark. It’s like our nation–in fact, the whole world–has been stumbling along, trying to regain our sense of equilibrium. We’re assessing the damage of lockdowns, individually and relationally. We suffered through another election which grows uglier by the year. We now accept lies as truth for no other reason than it’s “our guy” telling them.

Students are woefully behind on their level of studies from where they should be. Many of us who have been able to get by are now living paycheck to paycheck, draining our savings and running credit card balances in order to stay afloat while being told by the highest authorities that everything is peachy. Just this month, there have been mass shootings in both a gay club and a Walmart as well as a brutal quadruple homicide of four college kids while they slept.

We no longer believe anything from our media, government, and academic institutions. And every day, that level of mistrust grows progressively worse. Institutions we normally trust to fix things are themselves broken.

Nothing makes sense. When institutions we should trust are telling us things totally out of line with the reality around us, uncertainty prevails. And with no truth to stabilize, darkness saturates.

There is no solution.

Save one.

The dark reality Jesus entered into the first time is the same reality now.

We don’t need Christmas in spring or summer, when all is warm and bright. But we do need it in the darkest time of the year. Why do you think the most dominant decoration is the light?

As we enter into the Christmas 2022 season, don’t wait to start the season until you feel “festive.” That is the way the world does it, trying to drum up emotions and then falling even deeper into depression and darkness.

That is also putting the cart before the horse.

Acknowledge the Christmas season from within the darkness around you. Let the brilliance of Christmas trees and lights remind you that the true Light of the world has come and will come again.

Yes, it’s dark. But Christmas is the reminder that Emmanuel has come.

And the days will start growing longer.

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