Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me, or so the kids’ song goes. My mother repeated this little ditty to me countless times in my youth when my brother or sisters would tease me or my “friends” would mock me. It is a great truth that our society and we as believers would be smart to learn.
Recently, an old washed-up radio talk show host made some very ill advised and very inappropriate remarks about a fabulous women’s college basketball team. ( Imus and Rutgers for those of you who are not following me). Suddenly, his vile words became a national incident and he was summarily fired. The basketball team, which was rightly offended, held a news conference and defended themselves against these hideous remarks.
The media culture had made these stellar athletes and college students into victims. Unfortunately, the students bought into their victimization. In doing so they gave a tired old disc jockey way too much power. They acted like he had the power by his words to define them. He didn’t, until they let him.
I wonder how many of us allow others to define us by their words or even by their actions. For some of us there is a tape that plays all day long in our heads and hearts that tells us who we are or are not. It is the recording of parents, family and friends who through the years called us losers, underachievers, stupid, limited, too aggressive, too religious, Jesus freaks or inappropriate. It is the video image reflected in the media of too short, too tall, too heavy, too poor, not cool, not important and a million other adjectives.
We should not allow ourselves to be defined by what others say about us or by what they expect of us. We cannot be defined in either of these ways unless, of course, we allow ourselves to be, unless, we choose to be victims.
It is important that we find our definition in something much more significant. We need to define ourselves by two very important criteria. These are:
1) What God calls us
and
2) What God calls us to be.
The Bible lets us know quite clearly what God calls us. In Genesis 1:26 we read, “Then God said, ‘Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness... let them have dominion’”. Psalm 139:13-14 tells us, “For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well.” Throughout the Scriptures we are said to be special creations made in the image of God.
The fact that we are made in God’s image gives us great value. As the bearers of the likeness of the Almighty we can make moral choices. We are told to reflect who God is. We are to have dominion over the earth. We are different and distinct from the animals. We are unique.
The way we look, our personalities, our motivations are all reasons for celebration. We are who we are at our core because God made us this way. He alone defines us. Praise God. Hallelujah. Amen.
In Ephesians 2:10 we read the following, “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.” This verse lets us know what God has called us to be. The Greek work for “workmanship” is “poiema”. It is the word we get our word “poem” from. A great poem is a work of art, a masterpiece. God tells us that in Christ (that is to say after salvation) we are His masterpieces. As masterpieces we are created for good works. This is what God has called us to be.
As God’s masterpieces we should not subject ourselves to the critics of this world. We have been created by the Master Sculpture. We are His new creations and “God don’t make no junk”. Our purpose is good works so let’s get at it. Praise God. Hallelujah. Amen.
There is ultimately only one dictionary that defines me, and it wasn’t written by Webster. If I keep in mind that God defines me as His special creation in this world and His spectacular new creation in Christ, I will avoid the pitfall of victimization hoisted upon me by the media and all other sources, including myself. We are, after all, more than conquerors through Him that loved us.
Dave Watson - An Urban Christian
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
They should be stressed over finals and papers. “We’re all so sorry” seems so empty and shallow.
Late April is crunch time for students on college campuses. Their pace picks up as they cross the street. Their speech becomes faster because their minds are over-loaded with last night’s reading assignment, computer screens and due dates. Their perpetual caffeine state might add to the rpm level.
It is no different in Blacksburg Virginia, home of Virginia Tech. I spent five years there as a pastor working mostly with college students. It is not a sleepy Virginia hamlet. It is a dynamic, bustling college town. This time of year attendance at church and small group Bible studies for students gets a little thin. Those who make it to such events emphatically ask for prayer about papers that are due, upcoming exams and summer internships. That’s the way it should be. Now something has changed. They have more urgent prayer needs now.
Students at Tech got robbed yesterday, and to say “we’re all so sorry” seems so empty and shallow. Their sense of normalcy is gone forever. Belief in fellow students is shaken. One of their own has betrayed them. Is there another traitor on campus, in your dorm or townhouse, on your floor? They should be stressed over finals and papers.
Ambler Johnson is primarily a freshman dorm known for the things a freshman dorm is supposed to be known for. All that died yesterday. Now it is a crime scene. It will be remembered as such for years to come. The home of a co-ed's murder and a hero RA’s tragic death. How do you go back to that dorm? How does anyone sleep there again?
Norris Hall is a classroom building. My wife once worked in the building right next to it. Tech is known for its engineering program and many of the engineering classes are held there. It is place for the interchange of ideas and, the education of the mind, a place to hand in papers and take exams. All that died on Monday shortly after 9:00 A.M.. Now it is a house of horrors, the home of the greatest shooting massacre in American history. Every campus tour for a decade to come will point that sad fact out. How do you feel safe going to class there? All other memories of Norris move to the recesses of one’s mind and the terror of 4/16 moves front and center.
College is a season for great friends and good times with academic exercises sandwiched in between. The university experience at VT has been changed. It is a time to grow up. But please, not this fast. Now it’s a time for grieving and guilt. Grieving over loss. The loss of friends, the loss of security, the loss of hope. Guilt because you blew off German class because of Sunday night’s party and were rewarded with life on Monday. Guilt because everyone you cared about is okay but others have great losses and are wounded so bad. They should be stressed over finals and papers. “We’re all so sorry” seems so empty and shallow.
Adrenaline gets you through a few fleeting days but then all too quickly reality comes in like an unwelcome spring nor’easter. It chills one to the bone. Today a Tech student said, “I lived through Columbine, I lived through 9/11 and I’ve lived through this.” That’s what is so bad. This generation has had to see and live so much tragedy. I fear they will be labeled, “the tragic generation.” At the time when they should be stressing over exams and finals they have to worry when the world might blow up on them.
It is as if the thief who comes but to rob, kill and destroy identified by Jesus in the gospels has taken special aim at this generation. The students at Virginia Tech as well as those on college campuses across our country need our prayers. They are not the Columbine generation, they are not the 9/11 or now the Tech Massacre generation. They are so much more. They are the future. They are the hope and possibilities of this new millennium. They are the moms and dads and grand moms and grand dads of the century to come.
We are told not to be overcome by evil but to overcome evil with good. Let’s pray that we and those who have seen, heard and experienced so much tragedy may find the God given grace and wisdom to overcome such unbridled wickedness with overpowering good.
Dave Watson,
An Urban Christian
It is no different in Blacksburg Virginia, home of Virginia Tech. I spent five years there as a pastor working mostly with college students. It is not a sleepy Virginia hamlet. It is a dynamic, bustling college town. This time of year attendance at church and small group Bible studies for students gets a little thin. Those who make it to such events emphatically ask for prayer about papers that are due, upcoming exams and summer internships. That’s the way it should be. Now something has changed. They have more urgent prayer needs now.
Students at Tech got robbed yesterday, and to say “we’re all so sorry” seems so empty and shallow. Their sense of normalcy is gone forever. Belief in fellow students is shaken. One of their own has betrayed them. Is there another traitor on campus, in your dorm or townhouse, on your floor? They should be stressed over finals and papers.
Ambler Johnson is primarily a freshman dorm known for the things a freshman dorm is supposed to be known for. All that died yesterday. Now it is a crime scene. It will be remembered as such for years to come. The home of a co-ed's murder and a hero RA’s tragic death. How do you go back to that dorm? How does anyone sleep there again?
Norris Hall is a classroom building. My wife once worked in the building right next to it. Tech is known for its engineering program and many of the engineering classes are held there. It is place for the interchange of ideas and, the education of the mind, a place to hand in papers and take exams. All that died on Monday shortly after 9:00 A.M.. Now it is a house of horrors, the home of the greatest shooting massacre in American history. Every campus tour for a decade to come will point that sad fact out. How do you feel safe going to class there? All other memories of Norris move to the recesses of one’s mind and the terror of 4/16 moves front and center.
College is a season for great friends and good times with academic exercises sandwiched in between. The university experience at VT has been changed. It is a time to grow up. But please, not this fast. Now it’s a time for grieving and guilt. Grieving over loss. The loss of friends, the loss of security, the loss of hope. Guilt because you blew off German class because of Sunday night’s party and were rewarded with life on Monday. Guilt because everyone you cared about is okay but others have great losses and are wounded so bad. They should be stressed over finals and papers. “We’re all so sorry” seems so empty and shallow.
Adrenaline gets you through a few fleeting days but then all too quickly reality comes in like an unwelcome spring nor’easter. It chills one to the bone. Today a Tech student said, “I lived through Columbine, I lived through 9/11 and I’ve lived through this.” That’s what is so bad. This generation has had to see and live so much tragedy. I fear they will be labeled, “the tragic generation.” At the time when they should be stressing over exams and finals they have to worry when the world might blow up on them.
It is as if the thief who comes but to rob, kill and destroy identified by Jesus in the gospels has taken special aim at this generation. The students at Virginia Tech as well as those on college campuses across our country need our prayers. They are not the Columbine generation, they are not the 9/11 or now the Tech Massacre generation. They are so much more. They are the future. They are the hope and possibilities of this new millennium. They are the moms and dads and grand moms and grand dads of the century to come.
We are told not to be overcome by evil but to overcome evil with good. Let’s pray that we and those who have seen, heard and experienced so much tragedy may find the God given grace and wisdom to overcome such unbridled wickedness with overpowering good.
Dave Watson,
An Urban Christian
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Reflections
In just a few short days “Holy Week “or as it is known by some “Passion Week” will be upon us. This is the time when Christians reflect more deeply on the truths regarding the death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. Though there are many appropriate Biblical texts that we could meditate on during this time of year, I would like to share from two that are found in the epistle of 1 Peter.
In 1 Peter 1:18-19 we read, “Knowing that you were not redeemed with corruptible things, like silver or gold, from your aimless conduct received by tradition from your fathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot.” These verses speak to me more than any others in the New Testament regarding the price that was paid to set me free from my sin and its consequences. They tell me what I cost God. They demonstrate for me my worth in the eyes of the Creator of the universe.
The verses are clear as to what couldn’t purchase my freedom. This world’s most valuable commodities couldn’t secure my freedom. The currencies of this planet have no value in the spiritual marketplace. In that marketplace, as a slave to sin, I was for sale. I was desperate, but I brought no resources to bid with. I was bankrupt.
Along came my loving Father from whom I was estranged. He paid the highest of possible prices for me. He gave the precious blood of the sinless, spotless Lamb of God -- the Passover Lamb. That Lamb, of course, was His Son and our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.
This tremendous sacrifice was never intended to cause me to feel guilty. It, in fact, was designed to deliver me from guilt. My mediation on this great truth should cause a huge eruption in my soul. I am loved beyond my wildest dreams. The worth of God’s Son to the Father cannot be fully calculated. The cost of my redemption is beyond measure. My value in the eyes of my Lord is above comprehension.
The second text is 1 Peter 1:3-4 where we read, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you.”
These verses speak loudly to me regarding purpose. They give a perspective on life that is practical and dynamic. They give me hope to keep going.
Based solely on God’s mercy and through nothing that I have done, I have been given a new life. This new life is described as a living hope. It is not a hope only reserved for later times, but a hope that works in the here and now. It is a living hope, not a hope waiting for my death.
This new life is given through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Perhaps Peter has in mind the words of Jesus in John 14:19 when he said, “Because I live, you shall live also.” As he wrote these words, he may have been remembering His own failings, bitter defeat, and the second chance he experienced at the feet of the resurrected Christ. In any case, this hope gives me a reason to live. It gives me the ability to keep going no matter how many times I mess up or how bad I falter. The risen Christ is with me each step of the way.
Let me encourage you right now to take a few moments to personally meditate on these two sets of Bible verses. Re-read them and think about what they are saying to us. In the next week or so be sure to give yourself time to reflect on the price God paid for us and the purpose He now has for all of us through the Lord Jesus Christ. Hallelujah, what a Savior. Hallelujah, Christ is risen.
Dave Watson, An Urban Christian
In 1 Peter 1:18-19 we read, “Knowing that you were not redeemed with corruptible things, like silver or gold, from your aimless conduct received by tradition from your fathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot.” These verses speak to me more than any others in the New Testament regarding the price that was paid to set me free from my sin and its consequences. They tell me what I cost God. They demonstrate for me my worth in the eyes of the Creator of the universe.
The verses are clear as to what couldn’t purchase my freedom. This world’s most valuable commodities couldn’t secure my freedom. The currencies of this planet have no value in the spiritual marketplace. In that marketplace, as a slave to sin, I was for sale. I was desperate, but I brought no resources to bid with. I was bankrupt.
Along came my loving Father from whom I was estranged. He paid the highest of possible prices for me. He gave the precious blood of the sinless, spotless Lamb of God -- the Passover Lamb. That Lamb, of course, was His Son and our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.
This tremendous sacrifice was never intended to cause me to feel guilty. It, in fact, was designed to deliver me from guilt. My mediation on this great truth should cause a huge eruption in my soul. I am loved beyond my wildest dreams. The worth of God’s Son to the Father cannot be fully calculated. The cost of my redemption is beyond measure. My value in the eyes of my Lord is above comprehension.
The second text is 1 Peter 1:3-4 where we read, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you.”
These verses speak loudly to me regarding purpose. They give a perspective on life that is practical and dynamic. They give me hope to keep going.
Based solely on God’s mercy and through nothing that I have done, I have been given a new life. This new life is described as a living hope. It is not a hope only reserved for later times, but a hope that works in the here and now. It is a living hope, not a hope waiting for my death.
This new life is given through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Perhaps Peter has in mind the words of Jesus in John 14:19 when he said, “Because I live, you shall live also.” As he wrote these words, he may have been remembering His own failings, bitter defeat, and the second chance he experienced at the feet of the resurrected Christ. In any case, this hope gives me a reason to live. It gives me the ability to keep going no matter how many times I mess up or how bad I falter. The risen Christ is with me each step of the way.
Let me encourage you right now to take a few moments to personally meditate on these two sets of Bible verses. Re-read them and think about what they are saying to us. In the next week or so be sure to give yourself time to reflect on the price God paid for us and the purpose He now has for all of us through the Lord Jesus Christ. Hallelujah, what a Savior. Hallelujah, Christ is risen.
Dave Watson, An Urban Christian
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
The Battle Still Rages
Yesterday, in the first days of the traditional Lenten season (A holy time for many Christians) and the day after the Academy awards, Oscar winning film director James Cameron held a press conference in New York City to declare that the bones of Jesus Christ have been discovered near Jerusalem. This “new discovery” will be the focus of a documentary produced by Cameron entitled, "The Lost Tomb of Jesus". Predicatively, the media has gone wild, as it always does with anything anti-Christian. The uncovering of the bones of Jesus would put a final nail in the coffin of the Christian faith. This would be better than last year’s fictional “DaVinci Code.”
At the heart of this “new discovery” are 10 ossuaries (small caskets used to store bones), five of which supposedly have inscribed in them names associated with New Testament people we are acquainted with. Those New Testament names are; Jesus, Mary, Matthew, Joseph, and Mary Magdalene. A sixth inscription is purported to read, “Judah of Jesus”. There you have it. What more evidence could we ask for? Jesus obviously didn’t die and rise as we have traditionally believed. He married Mary Magdalene, had a son and they all were buried, together with his parents, Mary and Joseph one mile outside of Jerusalem. Proof beyond a reasonable doubt, right?
Never mind that this is not a new discovery. These bones in these ossuaries were discovered 27 years ago at a construction site. Never mind that a documentary had already aired on this matter in 1996. Never mind that one of the best known and respected archeologists in Israel has said for ten years that there is absolutely no way to prove that this is the bone box of Jesus. Never mind that the inscriptions are difficult to read and translate and are at best open to interpretation. (On one inscription instead of “Jesus” one scholar reads it as, “Hanun”)
Never mind that these New Testament names are the most common of the day and that there are a slew of ossuaries that bear the same names. Never mind that Mary and Joseph are from Nazareth of Galilee and would have in all likelihood been buried there. Never mind that The Israel Antiquities Authority has for years considered this find to be no big deal.
Never mind that if Jesus married, bore children, etc. it would mean that his disciples were running around proclaiming His resurrection and ascension and being martyred in and about Jerusalem and Judea at the same time of his alleged marriage, parenting and home life. Shouldn’t someone have told Jesus he was being trumpeted as the Savior of the world and encouraged him to get off his duff and do something Messiah-like?
Never mind all the facts. Let’s defer to the guy who makes movies and money on movies for the truth on this one. People who write books and make documentaries are the smart ones. Let’s buy into the hype and the speculation, because Christianity is a baseless faith that makes us uncomfortable about ourselves and our sin and we’d be better off without it anyway. Right?
Here are some interesting facts that we might want to consider. There are credible eyewitnesses to where Jesus was buried. According to John, who we now refer to as the apostle John, as well as a woman named Mary Magdalene (Her name sounds familiar) he was buried in a rich man’s grave right next to Golgotha, the place where He was crucified and died (See John 20). John, as well as another man named Matthew, who also participated in Christ’s ministry, took the time to write this matter down shortly after Christ’s death (See Matthew 28). Furthermore, a man named Luke, a physician and historian, thoroughly examined the matter and wrote his conclusions in two books called Luke and Acts. My friends, in a court of law, multiple eyewitness accounts to an event recorded around the time that the event happened will trump speculative, foundationless theories contrived almost 2000 years after the fact every time!
The religious leaders of Jesus’ day tried to keep him in his tomb via a large stone. Three days later on that first Easter so many years ago the stone was rolled away, the tomb was empty, and Jesus was alive. Those who saw him die proclaimed to the world that they had seen Him and that they were changed forever. The Christ-hater turned Christian convert named Paul put it this way in a very early creed (37 A.D.).
“For I delivered to you first of all that which I also received: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He was seen by Cephas, then by the twelve. After that He was seen by over five hundred brethren at once, of whom the greater part remain to the present, but some have fallen asleep.”
The skeptics of our time want to put Jesus back in the grave. They want to de-throne Him. They want to rob this history-altering figure of His deity and make Him just another good man. Over their silly objections, the voices of truth shout with relentless strains, “Christ is risen, Christ is risen, Hallelujah! Christ is risen, and the world will never be the same!”
In His Service,
Pastor Dave Watson
An Urban Christian
At the heart of this “new discovery” are 10 ossuaries (small caskets used to store bones), five of which supposedly have inscribed in them names associated with New Testament people we are acquainted with. Those New Testament names are; Jesus, Mary, Matthew, Joseph, and Mary Magdalene. A sixth inscription is purported to read, “Judah of Jesus”. There you have it. What more evidence could we ask for? Jesus obviously didn’t die and rise as we have traditionally believed. He married Mary Magdalene, had a son and they all were buried, together with his parents, Mary and Joseph one mile outside of Jerusalem. Proof beyond a reasonable doubt, right?
Never mind that this is not a new discovery. These bones in these ossuaries were discovered 27 years ago at a construction site. Never mind that a documentary had already aired on this matter in 1996. Never mind that one of the best known and respected archeologists in Israel has said for ten years that there is absolutely no way to prove that this is the bone box of Jesus. Never mind that the inscriptions are difficult to read and translate and are at best open to interpretation. (On one inscription instead of “Jesus” one scholar reads it as, “Hanun”)
Never mind that these New Testament names are the most common of the day and that there are a slew of ossuaries that bear the same names. Never mind that Mary and Joseph are from Nazareth of Galilee and would have in all likelihood been buried there. Never mind that The Israel Antiquities Authority has for years considered this find to be no big deal.
Never mind that if Jesus married, bore children, etc. it would mean that his disciples were running around proclaiming His resurrection and ascension and being martyred in and about Jerusalem and Judea at the same time of his alleged marriage, parenting and home life. Shouldn’t someone have told Jesus he was being trumpeted as the Savior of the world and encouraged him to get off his duff and do something Messiah-like?
Never mind all the facts. Let’s defer to the guy who makes movies and money on movies for the truth on this one. People who write books and make documentaries are the smart ones. Let’s buy into the hype and the speculation, because Christianity is a baseless faith that makes us uncomfortable about ourselves and our sin and we’d be better off without it anyway. Right?
Here are some interesting facts that we might want to consider. There are credible eyewitnesses to where Jesus was buried. According to John, who we now refer to as the apostle John, as well as a woman named Mary Magdalene (Her name sounds familiar) he was buried in a rich man’s grave right next to Golgotha, the place where He was crucified and died (See John 20). John, as well as another man named Matthew, who also participated in Christ’s ministry, took the time to write this matter down shortly after Christ’s death (See Matthew 28). Furthermore, a man named Luke, a physician and historian, thoroughly examined the matter and wrote his conclusions in two books called Luke and Acts. My friends, in a court of law, multiple eyewitness accounts to an event recorded around the time that the event happened will trump speculative, foundationless theories contrived almost 2000 years after the fact every time!
The religious leaders of Jesus’ day tried to keep him in his tomb via a large stone. Three days later on that first Easter so many years ago the stone was rolled away, the tomb was empty, and Jesus was alive. Those who saw him die proclaimed to the world that they had seen Him and that they were changed forever. The Christ-hater turned Christian convert named Paul put it this way in a very early creed (37 A.D.).
“For I delivered to you first of all that which I also received: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He was seen by Cephas, then by the twelve. After that He was seen by over five hundred brethren at once, of whom the greater part remain to the present, but some have fallen asleep.”
The skeptics of our time want to put Jesus back in the grave. They want to de-throne Him. They want to rob this history-altering figure of His deity and make Him just another good man. Over their silly objections, the voices of truth shout with relentless strains, “Christ is risen, Christ is risen, Hallelujah! Christ is risen, and the world will never be the same!”
In His Service,
Pastor Dave Watson
An Urban Christian
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Keeping Christ in Our City’s Christmas
The day after Halloween the decorations appeared. Like magic they were everywhere. Red bows, silver tinsel, colored lights and, of course, candy canes. Appropriate holiday music quickly followed. Soon we were all dashing through the snow as we all dreamed of a white Christmas and it was only early November.
One would think that with all the early emphasis on Christmas that it would be easy to keep the central figure of Christmas, Christ, central. Regretfully it is not. The pluralists (“There are so many faiths and we don’t want to offend anyone” crowd) and the Secularists (“The idea of God in public life offends me” crowd) have succeeded by there loud objections in taking Christ out of Christmas, leaving us I guess with just “mas”. It sounds silly to say happy “mas” so we say instead “Happy Holidays” or “Have a Merry” meaning and including but never excluding Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanza, and Festivus (See Seinfeld, 1997).
The end product of all this political correctness is quite sad. We end up attending the office “holiday party” or going to our children’s “winter celebration concert” at school. We find ourselves saying “Have a Happy and a Merry” in the stores as we all dance around the real meaning of the season like it was bottled bubonic plague.
Let’s get some facts straight here. For Orthodox Jews, Hanukkah is a minor Jewish holiday which was added after the Hebrews Scriptures had been completed. Kwanza is a recent holiday born in the 1960’s to celebrate African heritage. Festivus is fictional. People in this country primarily give gifts this time of year to celebrate the greatest gift of all---the gift of God’s Son, the Lord Jesus Christ.
In reality, merchants make money, schools close, people get together, churches fill
up-- not to celebrate the miracle of the oil in the lamps during the time of the Maccabians, not to rejoice in one’s heritage, but to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Why is His birth celebrated? Listen to what the Bible says in Luke 2:10-11, Then the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For there is born to you this day in the city of Davida Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”
So here is my choice. I can bow to political correctness and tiptoe around the real meaning of Christmas, or I can be true to my beliefs and proclaim, “Joy to the world, a Savior is born who is Christ the Lord!” The reason Jesus has been uninvited to His birthday is that we have allowed ourselves to be silenced.
As believers we are not called to be obnoxious, but we are also not called to be doormats either. Meekness is not weakness. We are not ashamed of Jesus Christ, He’s our Savior. The Bible tells us that He is the Way the Truth and the Life and that no one comes to the Father except by Him. Respect for the faith of others doesn’t mean I have to shut my mouth about my own. We don’t bow to the wishes of men, we answer to God.
So this year, help our city keep Christ in Christmas. Wish everyone a Merry Christmas. Unashamedly tell others about the Christ of Christmas. Talk about His virgin birth, His claims of deity and His death for our sins. Send overtly Christian Christmas cards, sing poignant Christmas carols and invite people to Christmas services at church. In other words “Go, tell it on the mountain, Over the hills and everywhere; Go, tell it on the mountain, That Jesus Christ is born.” Merry Christmas to you and yours.
Dave Watson, An Urban Christian
One would think that with all the early emphasis on Christmas that it would be easy to keep the central figure of Christmas, Christ, central. Regretfully it is not. The pluralists (“There are so many faiths and we don’t want to offend anyone” crowd) and the Secularists (“The idea of God in public life offends me” crowd) have succeeded by there loud objections in taking Christ out of Christmas, leaving us I guess with just “mas”. It sounds silly to say happy “mas” so we say instead “Happy Holidays” or “Have a Merry” meaning and including but never excluding Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanza, and Festivus (See Seinfeld, 1997).
The end product of all this political correctness is quite sad. We end up attending the office “holiday party” or going to our children’s “winter celebration concert” at school. We find ourselves saying “Have a Happy and a Merry” in the stores as we all dance around the real meaning of the season like it was bottled bubonic plague.
Let’s get some facts straight here. For Orthodox Jews, Hanukkah is a minor Jewish holiday which was added after the Hebrews Scriptures had been completed. Kwanza is a recent holiday born in the 1960’s to celebrate African heritage. Festivus is fictional. People in this country primarily give gifts this time of year to celebrate the greatest gift of all---the gift of God’s Son, the Lord Jesus Christ.
In reality, merchants make money, schools close, people get together, churches fill
up-- not to celebrate the miracle of the oil in the lamps during the time of the Maccabians, not to rejoice in one’s heritage, but to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Why is His birth celebrated? Listen to what the Bible says in Luke 2:10-11, Then the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For there is born to you this day in the city of Davida Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”
So here is my choice. I can bow to political correctness and tiptoe around the real meaning of Christmas, or I can be true to my beliefs and proclaim, “Joy to the world, a Savior is born who is Christ the Lord!” The reason Jesus has been uninvited to His birthday is that we have allowed ourselves to be silenced.
As believers we are not called to be obnoxious, but we are also not called to be doormats either. Meekness is not weakness. We are not ashamed of Jesus Christ, He’s our Savior. The Bible tells us that He is the Way the Truth and the Life and that no one comes to the Father except by Him. Respect for the faith of others doesn’t mean I have to shut my mouth about my own. We don’t bow to the wishes of men, we answer to God.
So this year, help our city keep Christ in Christmas. Wish everyone a Merry Christmas. Unashamedly tell others about the Christ of Christmas. Talk about His virgin birth, His claims of deity and His death for our sins. Send overtly Christian Christmas cards, sing poignant Christmas carols and invite people to Christmas services at church. In other words “Go, tell it on the mountain, Over the hills and everywhere; Go, tell it on the mountain, That Jesus Christ is born.” Merry Christmas to you and yours.
Dave Watson, An Urban Christian
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
The Firehouse
In the days leading up to the anniversary of September 11th and on the morning of September 11th I spent time with some very special people. My local firehouse has become one of my favorite places. The guys I’ve met there are such real people. They argue, bicker and cuss at each other but they always have each other’s back. Then they race into a burning building to rescue people they don’t even know and who many others wouldn’t even care about Then they go back to their house and argue and bicker and cuss again. They perform this community service not because of the money and bennies (thought they aren’t bad). They do it because their dad or uncle or grandfather was a firefighter. They do it to keep the legacy going. Their families have ingrained in them a sense of service and this compels them to literally put their lives on the line. They actually love doing it. They want to be part of the action. I’ve decided I need to be more like these real life heroes. I am 47 years of age and I want to be firefighter.
Dave Watson - An Urban Christian
Sounds of the City
I grew up in a small town (pop. Of 825 not counting cows or other livestock) and have very fond memories of my upbringing there. At night in my small town it was and is very, very quiet. Yes, you hear an occasional car go by and the constant chirping of crickets but there is really no clue as to what is really going on in the world around you. The silence is almost deafening.
The sounds of the city by contrast provide you will all kinds of information. Take last Saturday evening for example. As dusk was settling in, from my open window I heard the moronic melody of the Ice Cream truck driving through my street bringing joy and dental bills to my neighborhood. This was accompanied by the rhythmatic pitter patter of little tykes joyously coming for a sugar fix. In the background, like a sub plot in a Aaron Sorkin TV drama, one could hear the sounds of a fire trucks rushing to a crisis around the corner. Potential glee and probable pain, the irony of the human condition, were both within earshot.
Later that same evening after the important Met and Yankee baseball game were over the neighborhood sounds spoke loudly of the outcomes. The Yankee side of my complex spoke in the hushed tones found at Matthew’s Funeral Home a midst the mourners. The Met side was loud and boisterous, like a popular Bistro on a hoping Friday night. No need for Sportscenter here. Victory and defeat were heard in the voices on the street below. The Yankees had been summarily removed from the baseball playoffs and there cross town rivals the Mets had, in convincing fashion, moved to the next round.
With very little effort one can hear the joys and sorrows of this city shouting up from the concrete. The noise at times can be deafening but it also always informative.
The sounds of the city by contrast provide you will all kinds of information. Take last Saturday evening for example. As dusk was settling in, from my open window I heard the moronic melody of the Ice Cream truck driving through my street bringing joy and dental bills to my neighborhood. This was accompanied by the rhythmatic pitter patter of little tykes joyously coming for a sugar fix. In the background, like a sub plot in a Aaron Sorkin TV drama, one could hear the sounds of a fire trucks rushing to a crisis around the corner. Potential glee and probable pain, the irony of the human condition, were both within earshot.
Later that same evening after the important Met and Yankee baseball game were over the neighborhood sounds spoke loudly of the outcomes. The Yankee side of my complex spoke in the hushed tones found at Matthew’s Funeral Home a midst the mourners. The Met side was loud and boisterous, like a popular Bistro on a hoping Friday night. No need for Sportscenter here. Victory and defeat were heard in the voices on the street below. The Yankees had been summarily removed from the baseball playoffs and there cross town rivals the Mets had, in convincing fashion, moved to the next round.
With very little effort one can hear the joys and sorrows of this city shouting up from the concrete. The noise at times can be deafening but it also always informative.
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