Christmas is for Life

It seems really trite to say ‘Jesus is for life, not just for Christmas’ and yet there are so many deep truths that could be unpacked from that statement. I’m going to touch on just one.

As a young atheist I hated Christmas, with its consumerism and ostensibly religious nature. After unexpectedly becoming a Christian, Christmas still held much of the same distastefulness for me for some of the same reasons, its mixed origins and its religious sentimentality that seemed to have little to do with the true message of why Jesus came into the world, with the Bible’s emphasis on the events of Easter rather than Jesus’ birth.

Sometimes I take things far too seriously!

And I suspect that the real reason for my dislike of Christmas was more sub-conscious, to do with unhappy times as a child (see My Life’s Soundtrack).

Having children of my own now (the oldest being 15), I’ve had no choice but to lighten up and soften my attitude towards Christmas. And that’s been a good thing.

I’ve even reached the point of enjoying decorating the church for Christmas (with friends like Shane here)!

But further than that, I’ve begun to appreciate the true wonder of the Son of God entering the broken world of humanity.

My attitude towards Christmas has changed. And I’ve changed because of Christmas, or rather because of Jesus and his life in me. His wholeness healing my brokenness.

To be a Christian is to allow endless possibilities for change and healing.

You cannot be a Christian and remain the same.

Christmas candles at St Matthew’s Church

For this blog post, I’m going to cheat and let one of my literary and spiritual heroes, the late Brennan Manning (for whom I wrote the tribute Death of a Ragamuffin), explain it far better than I can:

 

‘The Christmas contemplative knows that hope is a gift, an undeserved gift of peace, but that it is also a call to decision – the decision to trust….

‘Hope thrives on the difficult and challenges the conclusion that our only contribution to the world will be, in the words of T.S. Eliot, “an asphalt driveway in front of our home and a thousand lost golf balls.” Hope convinces us that in clinging to a miserable sense of security and status quo, the possibility of growth and greatness is utterly defeated. Hope says that I no longer need to be dismayed over my personal dishonesty and self-centredness and feeble life of faith. That I no longer need to feel defeated, insensitive, and superficial.

‘Because the question no longer is: Can I do it? Am I able? Can I overcome my moodiness, my laziness, my sensuality, my grudges, and resentments? The only question is: Is Jesus Christ able? Can my Savior, the Lord of my life, revive my drooping spirit and transform me at Christmas as he transformed the world through his birth at Bethlehem?

‘“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33’

(From Reflections for Ragamuffins, p.352)

Brennan Manning experienced the enslavement that alcoholism brings. But like many addicts, he learned the secret of admitting powerlessness over his weaknesses and trusting instead in the ultimate higher power to bring about change.

What we Christians celebrate at Christmas (and Easter) is true for us all year round.

Because of Christ in me, I’m still changing, still growing, still being healed – as long as I continue to put my trust and hope in him, rather than in my self-effort. Where do you place your trust?

Jesus hasn’t finished with me yet. And if there’s hope for me, there’s hope for you too!

How’s Your Spiritual Depth-of-Field?

What’s this beach post got to do with this blog post? Read on to find out…

Don’t you admire those religious people who are so convinced about everything? Christians, for example, who…

… are definite that God made the world in 6 literal 24-hour days;

…who can tell you exactly how the end times will play out (or are already playing out) and which of the latest world leaders is the Antichrist;

…who are black-and-white in their views on heaven and hell and on who will be ‘in’ those ‘places’;

…and are categorical that the Bible is entirely God’s word, historically infallible, the final authority on everything, and express no doubts about it.

Oh, you don’t admire them? Actually, neither do I. Or at least I would, if I thought that these people were being entirely genuine in their certainty.

But the truth is that I’ve often found people who claim to have such conviction betray their underlying insecurity by expressing their convictions with verbal aggression and antagonistic dogmatism.

A friend of mine began to get quite angry with me once because I was questioning a literal 6-day creation, and I thought, “Whoa, what’s that reaction all about…?”

If they were so sure, they wouldn’t need to be so hostile in their approach, because they’d be at peace about it. Wouldn’t they?

I’m probably being unfair. I have in fact also met people of such strong faith and conviction, who have no need to verbally gun down anyone who thinks differently.

Personally, I’ve found that as I’ve got older, I’ve become more certain about some things, and less certain about others. And I’ve become more comfortable about being honest with myself and others about my uncertainties.

My spiritual depth-of-field has become smaller. Let me explain…

I enjoy some (very) amateur photography.

Landscape photos are often taken with a large depth-of-field. That means that images of objects both near and far remain relatively sharp.

I took the picture above, using a wide aperture, giving a small depth-of-field. This does 3 things:

1) The subject (in this case a post on a beach) is clearly in focus;

2) Everything in front and behind is a bit fuzzy;

3) The result is that the post is highlighted even more starkly, undetracted by its surroundings.

This effect is often used in portrait photography. In the pic below, my daughter Hannah stands out, sharply defined against a blurry background:

My faith has become like that:

1) I’ve become more convinced than ever that Jesus is everything we Christians claim he is: not only saviour, King and friend, who gave himself sacrificially for me, you and squillions of others, but the “key to God’s mystery”, source of all wisdom and knowledge*, and Source of love.

…that life is a whole lot better with him than without him, and that he sets people free from addictions and dysfunctionality by filling them with divine, healing love.

He is my focus, my central point.

2) Other subjects which are often ‘givens’ in Christian teaching, like the Bible’s infallibility, origins of the universe, who is and who isn’t ‘saved’, and issues of sexuality, I’ve become far less certain about. My view of these has become fuzzier in comparison with my view of Jesus, the Centre.

But then, right from the start of my new life (begun some 26 years ago, at the age of 22), in the words of Mumford & Sons’ brilliant Whispers in the Dark: “I’d set out to serve the Lord”. It’s always been Jesus I’ve sought to follow, not Christianity.

3) But far from dampening or threatening my faith, those uncertainties of No. 2) merely serve to highlight the certainty of Jesus in my mind. He stands out against a blurry background.

My love for him – my attention to him – has grown, as he’s become more sharply in my focus, undetracted by dogmatic peripheral issues.

“Peripheral?!” I hear some of my Christian friends cry in shock and dismay.

“But the inspiration of the Bible as God’s word is essential to our understanding of who Jesus is”.

“Paul’s whole argument in Romans collapses if we don’t take the account of the fall in Genesis literally!”

“And you can’t pick and choose which parts of the Bible you believe. If you can’t trust one part, how can you trust the rest of it?”

What may be fuzzy and peripheral to me may be clear and essential to someone else’s faith.

The last thing I want to do is in any way challenge anyone else’s faith. That’s not my aim, and I hope these thoughts don’t do that. My aim is simply to promote honesty and thereby increase faith.

So here are a few of my confessions:

• I don’t believe in 6 literal 24-hour creation days (although I do believe God created and sustains the universe). But I don’t rule out a literal 6-day creation either!
• I have doubts about the historical accuracy of other Old Testament stories (although I do believe that every part of the Bible has something to teach us and is in some way inspired by God). However, I concede it’s possible that it is all historically true!
• I have no idea whether hell exists and, if it does, what form it takes. I certainly don’t believe that all non-Christians are hopelessly lost; I believe in a far more merciful, loving and inclusive God. But who knows?

As you’ll see from the statements in italics above, I’m not bashing traditional doctrines or standing against those who hold to them. I’m simply saying that I have doubts about these, I’m open-minded, and will graciously agree to disagree on some things.

Jesus is starkly and beautifully in my focus. The rest is a bit fuzzy! Like in this picture of a Small Tortoiseshell I took on the Isle of Wight this summer, against a blurry grassy field…

Many of us (Christians) try to believe things that we really struggle to digest, while pretending to go along with everything we’re ‘meant’ to agree with!

[I’ve often heard church leaders preach on the first chapters of Genesis in such a matter-of-fact way, as if they’re taking for granted that all their listeners believe in a literal (or literalistic) interpretation.**

Here’s a plea to all preachers: when speaking on creation or the fall, please explain whether you’re taking the account literally or allegorically, and give at least a brief, rational explanation as to why you’re taking your particular approach. Otherwise, you’ve already potentially lost half your listeners. This is the 21^st Century, after all.]

Continuing the honesty theme… I love that time when Jesus meets Nathanael, and declares: “Now here is a genuine son of Israel – a man of complete integrity” (John 1:47).

And the joy and relief expressed by David when he decided to stop pretending (Psalm 32:2).

And the liberation experienced by those who open up with complete honesty about their addictions, faults and misdemeanours on 12-step courses.

God is all for truthfulness, because he is Truth.

I suspect I’m not alone in these uncertainties – and we could use a little more honesty in our churches – if we’re honest!

A small or shallow depth-of-field may not be such a bad thing, if it means Jesus is shown up more clearly, more sharply, in an atmosphere of openness and honesty than in a climate of pretence and hypocrisy.

What is your spiritual depth-of-field like?

Large – you have strong convictions on a wide range of matters?

Or relatively small, like mine – your deepest convictions are limited to a central focus, while other issues are a bit fuzzy?

I suggest that either is OK, as long as you are genuine in your beliefs.

But this blog is not just for Christians… Perhaps you, dear reader, are an atheist with uncertainties, and entertain the possibility of a deity, like a guilty pleasure.

Perhaps your answer to life’s big questions is the one suggested by Douglas Adams. Then this final photo, focussing in on that answer against a blurry background, is especially for you…

Or maybe you’ve been turned off Christianity because there are some things about church or its teachings that just don’t sit right, and yet you find Jesus strangely appealing?

In the Bible, when people started to follow Jesus, he didn’t demand that they follow a set of doctrines, but rather that they give everything they had to follow him, in response to his love. He called them to live with a shallow depth-of-field. Is that something you could do?

* Colossians 2:2-3

** You might need to read John Lennox’s excellent book Seven Days that Divide the World to get the difference between literal and literalistic.