The following essays were published between August and December 2007. Specific topics and literary references are listed in the “August to December 2007 Index” for ease of locating items of interest.

Essay One

Having Faith in Faith

by Teri Ong

I was as shocked as anyone to read on the front page of my hometown newspaper (The Greeley Tribune) ཁMother Teresa: ‘I Have No Faith.’ཁ My first thought was, ཁWon’t the popular press have a hey-day with thisཀཁ Why would they want to put this on the front page? Why didn’t they write a front-page story when noted atheist Antony Flew professed belief in an Intelligent Designer? That little bit of news was even buried in the back of World Magazineཀ

The mainstream media has a vested interest in discouraging the advancement of religion, particularly Christianity. Why would they want to encourage the last vestige of moral salt in our decaying society? They make their money sensationalizing and selling death and debauchery. If they can debunk ཁfaithཁ, there will be nothing restraining a flood of the lusts of the flesh of pre-Noahic proportions, of which God said, ཁ…the wickedness of man was great on the earth, and that every intent of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.ཁ

Of course, it is not really ཁfaithཁ that media and academic elites are out to get. Pop culture is rife with ཁfaith.ཁ Every other movie made by Hollywood has a theme of ཁhave faith in yourself.ཁ Way back in the 1960’s Rogers and Hammerstein wrote about it in ཁI Have Confidenceཁ (The Sound of Music); ཁBesides which, you see, I have confidence in me.ཁ In Field of Dreams we got a dose of ཁjust have faith– if you build it, they will come.ཁ

We recently watched Tall Tale so that we could analyze the epic nature of the camera work. The message, delivered with the gentleness of an iron skillet to the head, was ཁyou can do anything if you just believe in yourself.ཁ

What liberal academes and media moguls are really out to get is faith in the God of the Bible, who said such un-cool things as ཁDo not commit adulteryཁ (Exodus 20:14), ཁDo not be drunk with wineཁ (Ephesians 5:18) ཁThe love of money is the root of all sorts of evilཁ (I Timothy 6:10). All of those ideas are pretty counter-cultural in 21st century America.

Mother Teresa’s frequent and prolonged lapses of faith in God prove nothing about the existence or non-existence of God. Mother Teresa was ཁtortured by her inability to feel even the smallest glimmer of the Lord’s presence.ཁ (1) She had no faith in her own faith. She was seeking some sort of experience that would be a sign to her of the reality of God.

Let me say that having faith in the God of the Bible is not non-reasonable or non-evidential, but seeking for a certain type of confirmation puts our faith at risk. We are in danger of walking by sight rather than by faith. (II Corinthians 5:7) A great many high profile Christians have had lapses of faith and have gone back to square one to confirm the truthfulness of the Bible and the reality of God, for example, Francis Schaeffer who ultimately penned The God Who Is There, or C. S. Lewis who wrote about his struggle in Surprised By Joy.

In his essay ཁReligion: Reality or Substitute?ཁ, Lewis reminds us that it is not just Christians or ཁpeople of faithཁ who have faith. Atheists have faith in their own assessment that there is no God. And they are just as subject to lapses of faith.

ཁJust as the Christian has his moments when the clamour of this visible and audible world is so persistent and the whisper of the spiritual world so faint that faith and reason can hardly stick to their guns, so, as I well remember, the atheist too has his moments of shuddering misgivings, of an all but irresistable suspicion that the old tales may after all be true, that something or someone from outside may at any moment break into his neat, explicable, mechanical universe.ཁ (2)

Lewis’ declared mentor, George MacDonald wrote as a young man to his father about his doubts.

ཁMy greatest difficulty always is ‘How do I know that my faith is of a lasting kind such as will produce fruits?’…My error seems to be always searching for faith in place of contemplating truths of the gospel which are such as produce faith and confidence.ཁ (3)

As he matured, he wrote about how obedience to Christ was the path to confidence in one’s relationship to God. The character of God as a loving Father is portrayed figuratively in many of MacDonald’s characters. In Warlock O’Glenwarlock, the main character, Cosmo, has a father who is a loving, patient, entirely good father that nurtures all the best in Cosmo. Cosmo, however, is struggling to believe in God.

ཁBut why might not something (from the spirit world) show itself once–just once– if only to give one a start in the right direction?ཁ asked Cosmo.

ཁI will tell you one reason, returned Mr. Simon, ཁthe same reason everything is as it is, and neither this nor that nor any other way. Things are the way they are because it is best for us it should be so. Suppose you saw a strange sign or wonder– one of two things would likely follow: you would either come to doubt it after it had vanished, or it would grow common to you as you remembered it. No doubt, if visions could make us sure of God, He does not care about the kind of sureness they can give. Or He does not care about us being made sure in that way. A thing, Cosmo, might be of little value gained in one way; which gained in another might be a vital invaluable part of the process of of life. God wants us to be sure of a thing by knowing the heart from which it comes.ཁ (4)

Mother Teresa was looking for an experience within herself, a particular kind of feeling, that she never seemed to have. If she ever had had it, then her faith would have been in the feeling and not in God. Who can blame her for what she described as her ཁspiritual darkness.ཁ She was doing a very difficult mission in a very spiritually dark place. But love for God was evident in the heart of the very little woman who stood behind the microphone at the National Prayer Breakfast and took on President and Mrs. Clinton for their hypocritical stand on abortion.

Faith in and of itself is no particular virtue. What makes faith a virtue is the object of the faith. Lewis sums up:

ཁThere is nothing we cannot be made to believe or disbelieve. If we wish to be rational, not now and then, but constantly, we must pray for the gift of faith, for the power to go on believing, not in the teeth of reason but in the teeth of lust and terror and jealously and boredom and indifference that which reason, authority, or experience, or all three, have once delivered to us for truth.ཁ(5)

And so we pray, as did the father of the demon-possessed boy, ཁLord, I believe; help my unbelief.ཁ (Mark 9:24)

References:

(1)ཁMother Teresa: ‘I Have No Faith,ཁ Greeley Tribune, Saturday, August 25, 2007, p. 1,8.

(2)Lewis, C. S. The Collected Works of C. S. Lewis. Christian Reflections. ཁReligion: Reality or Substitute?ཁ p. 201.

(3)Sadler, Glenn Edward (ed.). An Expression of Character: The Letters of George MacDonald. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdman’s, 1994, p.11.

(4)MacDonald, George. Warlock o’Glenwarlock. Retitled The Laird’s Inheritance (Michael Phillips, ed.). Minneapolis: Bethany House, p. 154.

(5) Lewis, p. 202.

Essay Two

Where Were You On…?

by Teri Ong

I listened to some of the talk shows on September 11 — “Patriots’ Day” — and the question was almost universally asked, “Where were you on 9-11?” Older people equated the question to the other universal question of the boomer generation — “Where were you when President Kennedy was shot?” And older people still thought again about where they were when Pearl Harbor was attacked.

I’m too young for Pearl Harbor, but I do remember the day President Kennedy was assasinated. I was in the third grade in Mrs. Austinson’s class in North Heights Elementary School in Roseville, Minnesota. My recollection is that another teacher came gravely to our door and whispered something to Mrs. Austinson. It wasn’t long until someone wheeled in a television on a big, black A-V cart.

We had a sense of the history making importance of the moment, but we also had a sense that the television was in the room not so much for us as for our teacher. Almost like the time that Mr. Wakefield wanted us to be enculturated into the American Pastime just when his team was in a crucial game in the World Series. We had a TV in the room then too.

Growing up in a staunchly Republican home, my parents had not voted for Kennedy. But we were swept along in the great American tragedy. My father was subcontracted to the military during those years doing projects that were necessitated by the Cold War, and then as now, we all had a sense of the increased fragility of our place on planet Earth.

Where was I on 9-11? Just getting ready to take my husband to the hospital for throat surgery. It was not emergency surgery, but it was also not elective. Throat surgery is a big deal for a minister. I had just turned on the morning news on the radio — my usual weekday habit– when the first plane hit the World Trade Center. The first words from the newscasters were that a small plane had hit the first building. But the scenario quickly changed while we listened in horror.

We listened for the 40 minutes it took us to get from our town to the hospital. By the time we got there, the whole hospital was a buzz of serious conversation and tearful disbelief. Every television in every corner of the hospital was tuned in to the blanket coverage by the networks. My husband and I joked later that we had wanted to write on his chin, “Please keep your mind on your work!”

We were not panicked, but we were concerned. My husband’s brother is a New Yorker and sometimes had occasion to do business in the Trade Center. He was not there that day. But in the waiting room of the hospital where I sat, there were a brother and sister who had come to Colorado from New York to be with their grandmother who was having surgery that day. Their father was in one of the buildings when it was hit. He was one of the thousands who were able to get out alive, and by mid-day they had heard from him. The sister convulsed in tears of relief.

For the rest of the day the two of them sat watching the endless replays nearly transfixed. The brother now and then would say, “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he’s alive even though I heard him with my own ears.”

In A Book of Days for the Literary Year, Septemeber 11 is an inauspicious day. It is author O. Henry’s birthday (9-11-1862) and the birthday of D. H. Lawrence (9-11-1885). Not much for us literary types. Ironically, September 11 is an almost uncanny connecting point between President Kennedy and the Trade Center attack. It was on September 11, 1962 that the Cuban government announced that the Soviet Union had permission to use Cuban harbors for “fishing.” The Soviet ships were, however, intending to bring missiles to Cuba. The Cuban Missile Crisis became a defining moment for the Kennedy administration.

On that very day the Rev. Edward B. Lewis opened the U. S. Senate with this prayer (in the Congressional Record):

Our Heavenly Father, who by Thy love hast made us and in Thy love wouldst make us perfectly free, we bow in Thy holy presence, beseeching Thy continued help, wisdom, and guidance upon these, Thy servants, in the Senate of the United States of America. Be with them this day as they serve Thee and their people on the Senate floor, in committee, in conference, or representing our country with the President elsewhere.

We love this great country of ours. Help us to be worthy citizens of what we have been given by our forefathers. As we now are acclaimed as one of the world’s greatest nations, may we find more greatness in humility, honesty, justice, forthrightness, and a deep religious faith that has blessed us through our history.

Help us with plenty to be thankful– and to want to find ways for others to have plenty. Help us with knowledge to find ways for others to have the freedom of knowing. Help us with power to use this power in such a way that others will find strength to stand with us for that which is right.

Bless the President of the United States and his associates. Give them health, wisdom, and balance under tension.

Give to us the direction to find the way, the truth, and the life. Give us Thy salvation, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen

Forty-five years later, we are yet in an ideological war of global dimensions. Forty-five years later, this is still a good prayer. The final paragraph puts everything in proper perspective. “Give us Thy salvation,” so that someday, when we are asked “Where were you on Judgment Day?”, we will be able to give a good answer.

References:

(1)Jones, Neal T. A Book of Days for the Literary Year. New York: Thames and Hudson, 1984.

(2)LaHaye, Beverly and Farris, Michael. On This Day. Washington D. C.: Concerned Women of America, n.d.

Essay Three

Monsters of Our Own Making

by Teri Ong

No one would guess it to look at me or my lifestyle now, but when I was younger (much younger, say age 10-12?) I was not only a Trekkie, but I was also a fan of old-fashioned, black-and-white monster movies. Little did I know then that Lon Chaney, Bela Lugosi, and Boris Karloff were introducing me to some serious-minded literature — something that the Freddie Kruger types could never claim to do.

The book Frankenstein was written by Mary Shelley after a night of telling ghost stories with a group of friends — a sort of literary parlor game. Frankenstein is not the monster; he is a modern-thinking Swiss doctor who engages in electrical and medical experiments. He is fascinated with the idea of creating life. Casting aside old-fashioned moral scruples, he sets about creating a human being from scavenged body parts. Dr. Frankenstein is successful beyond his wildest dreams. The monster is the unnatural offspring of the quintessential liberal mind.

Yet in the end, the unnamed monster is disowned by its creator. Longing for social interaction on a level it is not capable of, Frankenstein’s monster resorts to hideous and vengeful destruction. We come to feel sorry for the monster who can never fit into normal society. But the destruction and murder must come to an end.

Backwards and largely ignorant peasants devise ways to take matters into their own hands for their own protection. In the movie versions, angry mobs with their pitchforks and torches attempt to kill or drive away the monster. Viewers know, as do the readers of the original story, that monsters are hard to kill, and even when you think they are dead, they may come back to fight another day.

This week we heard by way of the news media that Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad had been asked to speak to the United Nations. Since he was going to be in the United States anyway, he made a request to tour “ground zero.” Fortunately, he was denied this privilege. Everyone knows that he is a terrorist sympathizer and head of a rogue state, and that he is expanding his country’s nuclear capabilities beyond what is needed for power generation. He has threatened Israel with extinction as well as the decadent countries of the west.

In short, he is a dangerous man. Some would go so far as to say that his threats and actions are monstrous. In some ways he is the creation of the liberal minds at the United Nations who routinely energize and give unnatural life and legitimacy to petty tyrants by calling them “world leaders” and by asking them to address their body. The energized creatures are then free to terrorize the countryside at will.

In Syria’s case, a band of courageous peasants got out the laser-guided pitchforks and drove one monster back for awhile.

Percy Shelley, Mary’s husband, had written an extensive work of poetry based on the myth of Prometheus stealing fire from heaven and giving it to men on earth. According to the story, his gift ended up being a mixed bag of blessing and cursing. Zeus was rightfully outraged and condemned Prometheus to be bound for his foolishness. The binding, however, would only last for 13 generations, at which time Prometheus would be unbound. Percy Shelley’s poem is named “Prometheus Unbound.”

Mary Shelley’s book makes allusion to the same story and to her husband’s poem as well. She subtitled her work “A Modern Prometheus.” In the old myth, Prometheus gives fire, which is neutral in and of itself. Man chooses to use it for good or for evil. In Shelley’s story, the fire is electrical. In our day the fire is nuclear, and the potential for good or evil is exponentially greater.

The ghost story tellers in the Shelleys’ literary circle never published significant works based on their vows that night. They focused on true “ghost” stories– stories of uncanny, supernatural specters. One might even say, specters from the past. Only Mary Shelley published a story of lasting interest. She taught us that our most significant problems are made from the raw materials of our daily lives and energized by us to trouble our futures — monsters of our own making. Dr. Frankenstein eventually came to call his creature, “the living monument of presumption and rash ignorance which I had let loose upon the world.” (p. 72)

In the case of the political monsters on the loose in the world today — peasants, keep your torches handy!

About the Shelleys

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley and her husband, Percy Bysshe Shelley were proto-typical liberals in every way. Percy was enamored with the emerging sciences, and carried out his own experiments with electricity. But to protect himself from the emptiness of mechanistic utilitarianism, he explored psychic phenomena and the occult. He was also deeply interested in humanistic philosophy, and it was through this passion that he made the acquaintance of philosopher William Godwin’s beautiful daughter, Mary.

No matter that he was already married! He pursued a relationship with the philosophically “liberated” Mary, who was only 16 at the time. In a short while, the two of them ran off together. Because of their relationship, Mary was further estranged from her father, who had had high hopes for her, pushing her into publishing poetry while still in her early teens. She had, after all been named for her proto-feminist mother who had died in childbirth.

Mary and Percy embarked on a long ramble across Europe, subsisting on minor publications and the largess of friends. Percy also maintained an on-again-off-again relationship with his wife, Harriet. And so it came to be that Harriet was pregnant the last time Percy abandoned her. She committed suicide, and shortly thereafter, Percy married Mary, who was also already pregnant.

They settled for a time on the Continent with a group of literati that included Lord Byron. During an evening of telling ghost stories, several in the group committed themselves to writing in that genre for publication. Only Mary Shelley proved successful in the venture, publishing Frankenstein in 1818.

Percy died in a boating accident at age 29 in 1822. Mary published a number of other works in her lifetime in order to support herself and her only surviving son, but none of them attained the enduring interest of Frankenstein. As she matured as a mother and as a writer, she became decidedly more conservative in her social and philosophical views toning down some of the radical thought in her novel in the final revision of 1831. She died in 1851 and was buried with her parents in Bournemouth, England.

References:

(1)Shelley, Mary. Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus. New York: Barnes and Noble Classics, 2003 edition.

(2)Karbiener, Karen. “Introduction” and notes in Frankenstein. New York: Barnes and Noble Classics, 2003 edition.

(3)Grabo, Carl. H. “Shelley, Percy Bysshe” The American People’s Encyclopedia, Vol. 17. Chicago: The Spencer Press, 1953, pp. 563-4.

(4)The Oxford Companion to Classical Literature

Essay Four

They’ll Know We Are Christians by Our Shirts

by Teri Ong

I am going to attempt to connect a series of dots that at first glance might not seem to connect.

Dot 1– a talk show discussion

Dot 2– an article in the Greeley Tribune about Christian “bookstores”

Dot 3– an obituary I happened to read

Dot 4– a fairy tale

The essence of “Dot 1” was a discussion on the Dennis Prager Show last week about how it is impossible to tell what a person’s character is like based only on what that person says they believe about politics, religion, philosophy etc. Prager’s point was that what people say about what they believe often does not translate into a form of consistent behavior.

After 30 years with my husband in pastoral ministry, I have observed this phenomenon many times. We have known many people who profess to want to spend eternity in heaven with God, but who can’t find the time to spend a couple hours a week with Him in church. People who denounce violence but will, nonetheless, murder the reputations of neighbors and co-workers. People who profess to be against adultery who spend time watching steamy movies and perusing pornographic web sites. People who preach honesty to their children but cheat on their own taxes. People who won’t eat a piece of chicken but don’t care if a baby in the womb has its head crushed and brains extracted.

Most of us identify people like that as hypocrites. And just about the worst thing you can be today is a hypocrite. It is much worse than being an honest murderer or extortionist or pervert. The most dangerous thing you can do, especially in public life is make a statement that you believe in moral and upright character. If you ever once after that do anything that is immoral or low-down, you will be forever denounced as the worst kind of fiend– a hypocritical fiend. On the other hand, popular wisdom would have it that those who defend the naturalness and unavoidability of low-down, immoral behavior, and who engage in said behavior, can never be branded as hypocritical, and thus avoid the worst sin of all.

In reality, being a hypocrite and being a person who fails to meet a desired standard of behavior are vastly different. Many people branded as hypocrites fall into the latter category; they are unhappy souls who have tried to achieve a valuable standard of moral behavior and have failed. The failure does not make the standard or their attempt to arise to it bad, but it does explain why some people do not behave in accord with dearly held beliefs and values.

There are a good many people, though, who talk the talk more than they walk the walk because, frankly, walking the walk is pretty hard work; which brings me to dot number 2.

Dot two is an article in the Greeley (CO) Tribune about how Christian book stores are springing up in goodly numbers all over Northern Colorado, a trend evident in the rest of the USA as well. About 25% of Americans spend more than $25 a month on Christian themed goods, which can include anything from t-shirts and jewelry to music CD’s to Christian romance novels to Bibles. Why is this? Mary Gonzalez, manager of the Family Christian Bookstore in Greeley, explains that “many people excited about the Christian culture [which she says is growing], now want to express their faith openly, often with Christian themed apparel, books and jewelry. They are going to express who they are and why they are who they are. They are going to represent themselves by wearing t-shirts, by the books they carry and by the Bible they carry.” (Sunday, Sept. 2, 2007, page C5)

I was amused by an advertisement from one such store that featured a whole line of “non-conformity wear.” I assume we are all supposed to go out and express our non-conformity by looking alike.

T-shirts and jewelry and carrying books make a statement about who we are. But a non-verbal statement is still talking the talk– not walking the walk. It is much easier to put on a “Tommy Hellfighter” or a “Got Jesus?” t-shirt than to “put on the new self, which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of the truth,” as the Apostle Paul said (Ephesians 4:24).

Dot three is from an obituary I read that “celebrates” one person’s ability to make statements about their spirituality. I will not give the details of this memorial, but you will get the gist.

“[This person] loved casinos, lottery tickets and playing Bingo… was known to decorate for every holiday and dress up for Halloween…loved their motorcycle…having a love and appreciation for Harley-Davidson motorcycles…attended many bike runs and rallies… A very spiritual person, [this person] collected angels.”

I guess that is the definitive statement on how to express your spirituality!

In the same passage in Ephesians 4, Paul calls this “walking” in the “futility of their mind,…and they, having become callous, have given themselves over to sensuality for the practice of every kind of impurity with greediness.” (Eph. 4:17,19)

So much for talk!

Dot 4 is a quotation from a fairy tale written by Scottish author George MacDonald in 1892 called The Princess and Curdie. In one scene, the kingdom is about to be overthrown by persons of evil intent. The king has been drugged into a stupor and has been ineffectual as a leader. Loyal servant Curdie has driven the unfaithful lords from the palace, but the battle is not over. As the peasants face an uncertain future, the local ministers offer this spiritual guidance.

“Now that same day was Religion day, and not a few of the clergy, always glad to seize on any passing event to give interest to the dull and monotonic grind of their intellectual machines, made this remarkable one the ground of discourse to their congregations. More especially than the rest, the first priest of the great temple where was the royal pew, judged himself, from his relation to the palace, called upon to ‘improve the occasion’–for they talked ever about the improvement of Gwyntystorm, all the time they were going downhill with a rush.

The book which had, of late years, come to be considered the most sacred, was called The Book of Nations, and consisted of proverbs, and history traced through custom: from it the first priest chose his text; and his text was, “Honesty is the best policy.” He was considered an eloquent man, but I can offer only a few of the bones of his sermon.

The main proof of the verity of their religion, he said, was, that things always went well with those who professed it; and its first fundamental principle, grounded in the inborn invariable instinct, was the every One should take care of that One. This was the first duty of man. If every one would but obey this law, number one, then every one would be perfectly cared for– one being always equal to one.

But the faculty of care was in excess of need, and all that overflowed, and would otherwise run to waste, ought to be gently turned in the direction of one’s neighbor, seeing that this also wrought for the fulfilling of the law, inasmuch as the reaction of excess so directed was upon the director of the same, to the comfort, that is, and well being of the original self. To be just and friendly was to build the warmest and safest of all nests, and to be kind and loving was to line it with the softest of fur and feathers, for the one precious, comfort-loving self there to lie… (pp. 260-261)

MacDonald aptly points out that much of our behavior, let alone talk, flows in the direction of taking care of ourselves– even behavior that seems altruistic and enhances our reputation for niceness.

For the person who professes belief in Jesus Christ as his savior, that is, for someone who professes to be a “Christian”, God alone is the final judge of that person’s authenticity. Christ himself said of a coming day of judgment, that God’s evaluation would be based on deeds and their attendant motive and not on words alone (Matthew 25:31-46). Our declarations about what we believe are worthless apart from substantiating behavior and consistency of character.

Jesus asked those around him, who professed to be his followers, “Why do you say to me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and DO not the things I say?” (Luke 6:46) The Apostle John echoed this theme, “The one who says ‘I have come to know Him,’ and does not keep His commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him.” (I John 2:4) In the final analysis, words will not count. Actions springing from a pure heart motive of serving God will matter.

Dennis Prager is right– people’s statements about their beliefs are not a good predictor of their character or their behavior. But inconsistency is a predictor of insincerity. We all need to keep in mind that “talk is cheap” and that there won’t be “symbolism over substance” in heaven. Take to heart King Solomon’s advice, “Do not be hasty in word…For God is in heaven, and you are on earth; therefore let your words be few.” (Eccl. 5:2)

Reference:

MacDonald, George. The Princess and Curdie. London: Blackie and Son Limited, n.d.

Essay Five

You Are What You Eat

by Teri Ong

Eatingཀ Ah, yesཀ Eating is no less a dear topic to my heart now that I have been on a quasi-vegetarian whole food diet for coming up on three weeks. In fact, it is probably more of a dear topic now that I am doing less of it — or at least doing it in a more measured and thoughtful manner.

If we are what we eat, my children at various times have accused each other of being chickens, turkeys, nuts, etc. I am probably more of a puff pastry–either that or a jar of “Middle Age Spread” (Thank you, Wallace and Gromit). The last three weeks help me to believe I am changing that— Lord, help my unbeliefཀ

The article in the Greeley Tribune that I referenced in my last posting about your average Christian “book” store made me start thinking about this whole topic of food as a metaphor for what we feed ourselves spiritually. In that article, Mary Gonzales, the manager of the Family Christian Book Store in Greeley, Colorado was quoted as saying, “You know how the Golden Corral is a buffet? We’re a buffet, and we cater to God’s people. You go to Golden Corral and they have a buffet line for all kinds of food. In our store you can come to the buffet line of God’s word, God’s instructions, and God’s studies.” Not to mention God’s tea pots, God’s rock and roll CD’s, and God’s action figures, and God’s sweatshirts.

The metaphor is Biblically appropriate. God himself compares His word to milk, meat, bread, water, and wine. Sadly, Christians in America today have little taste for the “whole foods” of God’s word and gravitate to the Starbucks coffee and donuts of the church, on a figurative as well as literal level.

In George MacDonald’s fairy tale for “the childlike of all ages,” The Princess and Curdie, the author illustrates the need for wholesome spiritual food. The king of Gwyntystorm has lost his ability to function nobly because he is being kept barely alive on adulterated wine that is being given to him by his “doctor.” The doctor gives him the poison whenever the king is about to come out of his stupor. The doctor is on the side of evil men who want the king incapacitated so they can take control of the ship of state. Curdie and the Princess discover the wickedness being done to keep the king from returning to sensibility and responsibility. They conspire together to keep the doctor from administering the poisonous wine and they give him, instead, as many meals of wholesome bread and wine as he can consume. The king, in the course of time, returns to his right mind and regains his strength. He vanquishes the evil doers and takes responsibility for the welfare of his kingdom.

MacDonald’s allusion to the sacrament or ordinance of communion is purposeful and recurrent in his books. Mr. Vane, the main character in Lilith, is given sustenance in the form of bread and wine after a particularly difficult trial. In Lilith, as in all of his “fairy” stories, the characters are on a journey to discover the reality of the spiritual life. The sacramental bread and wine of the stories goes way beyond signifying physical food and plunges us into the depths of Christ’s words in John 6, “He who eats My flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in Me and I in him.” (John 6:54-56)

So where does the average church in America take us? To the cotton candy of Christian entertainment. To the Twinkies of self-help. To the pork-chops-on-a-stick of prosperity theology. To buy up anything the Christian “consumer” wants— to his heart’s content, as in the following parable.

The Consumer and the Church

A Modern Parable by Teri Ong

There is a small, brown brick health food store down on the corner near where I live. Few cars are ever in the parking lot, and most of them are owned by “the regulars.” There aren’t a lot of products on the shelves inside either, but everything you’ll see is of the highest quality, purity, and guaranteed to build you up. The management won’t give in to fad items such as chocolate covered granola bars, even though they are popular and look like they’d be good for you. You also won’t find any quick-fix items such as diet pills or powdered nutritional supplements. The manager knows that the only way to true health is through commitment to hard work over the long haul.

Some of the clients go there because they are already fit and want to stay that way. Others have gone in weak and sickly because of testimonials from others who have been helped. All are welcomed and encouraged. Time tested remedies and strength giving foods are there for all who seek such things.

A few people go into the little shop once or twice. Some I have known even looked like they might become “regulars.” But after a matter of weeks or months, they decided that carrot juice and sprouts aren’t as tasty as Coke Classic and a slice of frozen pizza.

I saw a former customer on the street the other day. I told her I had missed seeing her at the health food store for several weeks now.

“Well, you know how it is. We’ve been shopping at Super Sam’s Market all this month. We just can’t get our kids to drink carrot juice anyway. They really like eating Twinkies with the other kids. I guess it’s better for them to feel like they’re part of the group than to force them to drink carrot juice with us.

Then, you know, my husband really likes the Wild Heart Deli. Lots of the guys hang around the deli. They need the support of feeling they are making the right choices for their families— a pint of potato salad, a pound of bologna. And do you know that they just don’t carry coffee cakes at the health food store?ཀ I like to buy a coffee cake once a week to share with the girls.

The check-out people are great too. They always smile and never question anything I have in my cart.

Next month we may try Hyper-mart. I hear they’re having a huge sale on ham over there. We’re doing just great really. You know, they do sell health food at the supermarket too. They have a little section for it in the far right corner, way in the back.”

What my friend doesn’t realize is that organic whole wheat looks like a lot of hard work in comparison to Wonder Bread. And the management at the supermarket won’t tell her what she really needs as long as she buys something. And the effects of Twinkies and soda pop only show up in cancer and heart disease slowly, over the course of many years.

I may see my friend at the health food store again someday. Hopefully, her years of convenience shopping won’t have robbed too much life and vitality.

For the time will come when they will have no stomach for healthy food; but after their own lusts will heap into their carts junk food to satisfy their appetites. II Timothy 4:3 (The consumer’s paraphrase)

How do I know this to be a true story? My husband has been pastor of a “health food store” for 30 years. Nothing breaks our hearts more than to see spiritually hungry souls heading up the street to the religious “hyper-mart” knowing that many of them will come out happy but still mysteriously hungry.

We feel much as the prophet Isaiah must have felt all those centuries ago, standing on our street corner shouting–

“Hoཀ Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; And you who have no money, come, buy and eat. Come buy wine and milk, without money and without cost. Why do you spend money for what is not bread, and your wages for what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourself in abundance.” (Isaiah 55:1-2)

Essay Six

The Best Horrible Book You’ll Ever Read

by Teri Ong

To “celebrate” Halloween, our local university produced a stage version of the truly horrible “Rocky Horror Picture Show,” the supposed “cult classic” which features all sorts of mayhem and debauchery on the part of the fools on stage and the fools in the audience. We were then treated to full page photographs of “costumes that would make Frankenstein blush” in the local paper, just “in case we missed” the toast throwing and dressing in drag that are part of the “tradition”.

Those of us who stayed home only missed a travesty of immorality in the guise of an “art form.”

Instead, to borrow a phrase from P. G. Wodehouse, I spent a few evenings with “an improving book.” That book was Lilith by George MacDonald. The book is full of monsters, giants, living skeletons, ravening leopardesses, a house of the dead, and even a blood-sucking vampiress. In his introduction to the 1954 edition, W. H. Auden wrote that “Lilith is equal if not superior to the best of Poe.” It is an equal in terms of creepiness, but is decidedly superior in the author’s purpose for that creepiness.

Unlike Poe, MacDonald had a deep spiritual good in mind for his horrible story. The main character, Mr. Vane, is all caught up in his book learning; indeed, he spends all of his time and affection on the library bequeathed to him by his father. In it, he discovers one mysterious book and a mysterious bird-like “librarian” that lead him to look in a magical mirror in the attic. Mr. Vane, whose very name is reminiscent of King Solomon’s words, “Vanity, Vanity, all is vanity,” enters a strange realm of spiritual self-revelation through the mirror.

He makes several trips in and out of the strange, mystical land learning different lessons that prepare him for a good death; lessons we all need to learn.

MacDonald’s story, as much of his other writing, is allusive rather than allegorical. Readers have a sense of the deeper meanings and experience emotions connected with the deeper meanings as well as the story elements themselves. In Mr. Vane, we experience the need for that spiritual introspection that can take us from the shallowness of our everyday life into the realm of things that will count eternally. When he falls down on the sand in a desert place and hears the springs of life-giving water flowing underneath him, we have a sense that there is something more satisfying than the “dust” of earthly life. When we meet the skeletal couple that were once of the nobility, we understand that when we are stripped of the garb of civility to the bare essentials, what we need most is grace to love and be loved. The humble childlike “lovers” and the dull, brutish giants puffed up with self teach us the virtue of other-centeredness.

The most extensive lesson is Mr. Vane’s ongoing battle with the vampire Lilith. Lilith is the embodiment of self-will. She is an ancient creature who unknowingly does the bidding of a Satanic “Shadow”. Her image of herself is much different from the way others see her. She uses her allure to deceive her victims into giving up their life blood, slowly draining them of life and vitality, but keeping them barely alive so she can feast on them another day.

Through the efforts of those beings who are watching out for Mr. Vane’s eternal good, Vane comes to realize that Lilith is not his friend. With the help of the humble little “lovers” he mounts an attack on Lilith’s stronghold, eventually capturing her and taking her to the house of his friends who try to persuade her to repent of her evil. One of the most poignant scenes comes when Mara (meaning “bitterness”) and the New Adam and the New Eve confront Lilith with her need to repent. MacDonald powerfully portrays the strength of self-will.

I quote:

“We have long waited for thee, Lilith!” [Adam] said.

She returned him no answer.

“The mortal foe of my children!” murmured Eve, standing radiant in her beauty.

“Your children are no longer in her danger,” said Mara, “she has turned from evil.”

“Trust her not hastily, Mara,” said her mother, “she has deceived a multitude.”

“But you will open to her the mirror of the Law of Liberty, mother, that she may go into it, and abide in it! She consents to open her hand and restore; will not the Great Father restore her to inheritance with His other children?”

“I do not know Him,” murmured Lilith, in a voice of fear and doubt.

“Therefore it is that thou art miserable,” said Adam.

“I will go back whence I came!” she cried, and turned, wringing her hands to depart.

…”Father, take her in thine arms, and carry her to the couch. There she will open her hand and die into life.”

“I will walk,” said the princess.

…The princess knelt to Eve, clasped her knees and said,

“Beautiful Eve, persuade your husband to kill me; to you he will listen. Indeed I would, but I cannot open my hand.”

“You cannot die without opening it. To kill you would not serve you,” answered Eve. But indeed he cannot! No one can kill you but the Shadow, and whom he kills never knows she is dead, but lives to do his will, and thinks she is doing her own.”

…Adam pointed to the vacant couch and said,

“There, Lilith is the bed I have prepared for you.”

…The princess lay down, drew the sheet over her, stretched herself out straight, and lay still with open eyes.

Adam turned to his daughter. She drew near.

“Lilith,” said Mara, “you will not sleep, if you lie there a thousand years, until you have opened your hand and yielded that which is not yours to give or to withhold.”

“I cannot…I am trying hard, but the fingers have grown together and into the palm.”

“I pray you put forth the strength of your will. For the love of life, draw together your forces and break its bonds.”

“I have struggled in vain. I can do no more. I am very weary, and sleep lies heavy upon my lids.” …the contorted hand trembled in agonized effort.

“There was a sword once I saw in your husband’s hands…. Bring it, Adam,” pleaded Lilith, “and cut me off this hand that I may sleep.”

The sword that divides joints and marrow does its work, and self-will dies. Mr. Vane, at that point wants to join the dead so that he could sleep until resurrection morning and wake with the blessed. He, however, finds out that he, himself, has not died to his own self-will. He has more lessons to learn back in the natural realms of earth until he is finally called back to the other side.

Of this powerful story, Auden wrote that MacDonald had, “power to project his inner life into images, beings, landscapes which are valid for all.”

The real horror of the season is not found in commercially “haunted” houses or in creep shows or dress-up events: it is in how many of us are passing through life as the self-absorbed and self-deceived, clutching tightly that which we believe to be self-determination but which makes us the slave of evil.

Christ said, “If your eye offends you, pluck it out. If your hand offends you, cut it off; …it is more profitable that one of your members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.” (Matthew 5:29-30) When it comes to self-will, as MacDonald’s disciple C. S. Lewis said, it is necessary to “die before you die; after that, it’s too late.”

Notes:

(1)MacDonald, George. Lilith. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1981. First published in 1895. Quotations from chapter 40.

(2)Quotations about the Rocky Horror Picture Show, Greeley Tribune, Saturday, Nov. 3, 2007, pages 1,3.

Essay Seven

Narrow Minded

by Teri Ong

For the last twenty-five years or so the evangelical church in America has been obsessed with how to make the “narrow way” a little more accommodating to the masses. This is ironic to me — the notion that we would try to broaden God’s narrow way. But in America we are accustomed to getting our own way, and after all, in America bigger is always better.

A friend of ours who was an advisor to a group of people starting a new church told us of the following conversation–

Group leader: “What do you think we should do about music [in the new church plant]?”

Friend: “How about traditional hymns from a hymnal with piano accompaniment?”

Group leader: “No, we’ve never seen that work anywhere.”

“Work?” What did he mean by “work”? He meant that hymn singing isn’t edgy and entertaining enough to bring in crowds of “seekers.” He couldn’t possibly have meant that “O Worship the King” didn’t really worship anymore.

A church in our town, successful by all accounts, especially by the automobile count in the parking lot every week, no longer has a “sanctuary” or even an auditorium— it has a “playhouse.” The same church once sent out flyers to the neighborhood promising that people who attend their “casual and convenient services” can count on “being home in time for E.R.” That should certainly earn them a special commendation from the Lordཀ

Now comes the real bomb shellཀ Pastor Bill Hybels, father of the “seeker friendly” movement, admitted last month that edgy and entertaining doesn’t work either. That is not to say that it doesn’t bring in crowds and dollars into American churches because it does — but by his admission, it doesn’t produce mature Christians. The multi-year effectiveness study commissioned by Willow Creek Church has recently been published in the book titled Reveal:Where Are You? By Cally Parkinson and Greg Hawkins.

Sadly, Hawkins’ remedy is to “take out a clean sheet of paper and we rethink all our old assumptions. Replace it with new insights. Insights that are informed by research and rooted in Scripture.” All we really need is to be rooted in Scripture, and Scripture tells us that God’s path is narrow and that many are called, but few are chosen. We are to go to the ends of the earth with the message of salvation, but we cannot make it soft and appealing to the masses. That is to distort the truth of God’s Word and to put our trust in the arm of flesh.

We must be faithful and obedient to our heavenly commission in an uncompromising way. The response to the apostles in the book of Acts was more frequently beatings, stonings, jailings, ridicule, false accusations, privation, and being run out of town. I don’t remember reading that any of them were hailed for their great business sense or asked to give seminars on how to increase cash flow through felt needs programing. The apostles demonstrated the worth of God by staying on the narrow way, not by hiring the best theatrical consultants and hottest entertainers.

“A Narrow Escape”

I sat on a bench at the corner

Of busy Broadway and Main:

Solitary, alone in the crowd,

Hiding my sickness and pain.

The traffic moving along the street

Beckoned my soul to move on;

I joined the ebb and flow of the crowd,

And no one noticed I’d gone.

I pressed with the crowd up the wide way,

amidst noise and glare and heat.

My pain flared up, but I moved on still–

I would not admit defeat.

The street was wide, yet there was no space;

I bumped and jostled along.

I knew it then— I couldn’t keep up–

I fell down, crushed by the throng.

Then off to the side I thought I saw

An unmarked path of retreat.

A kindly Man was leading the way

To a narrow, little used street.

With purposed stride, He had passed me by;

(A pang of hope stabs my soulཀ)

If I could grasp the hem of His coat,

I think it would make me whole.

But that narrow street had a narrower gate;

To get through, I’d have to crawl.

The crowded broad way was tight enough–

But this? Oh, what would I do?ཀ

The kindly Man was moving ahead–

He’d surely die passing throughཀ

If He was willing to pay that price,

Then I knew I would go too.

He disappeared through the narrow gate–

Where he’d gone I could not tell.

By faith I reached and grabbed for His cloak.

I knew at once I was wellཀ

I burst inside still grasping His coat,

Pulled through that tiniest hole,

And found once in, a heavenly space,

A cathedral for my soul.

The broad way cramped and sickened my soul,

Unlike that small narrow place

Which opened into a vast expanse

Of God’s healing love and grace.

(TLO – 10/07)

It remains to be seen what the next fad in church growth will be. A friend of ours recently observed that the only Biblical strategy for church growth is a wave of persecution. It seems to be “working” in China.

Essay Eight

Growing Up with Handel’s Messiah

by Teri Ong

I grew up in a rich and highly diversified musical environment. My mother was a fine classical violinist who was at one time the concert mistress of her city’s orchestra for the yearly production of Handel’s most famous oratorio. She encouraged me to begin violin lessons at the Pacific School of Music in Seattle, Washington when I was four and a half years old— I still reap the benefits of that decision 48 years later every time I pick up my violin to play or to teach students.

My father, on the other hand, played drums in a dance band in his little Iowa hometown. Later in life he took up the banjo and had a whole box of harmonicas in every possible key so that he could play along in his country church when they sang hymns. He mostly enjoyed Southern gospel, country, and bluegrass. And mostly he liked funny songs, like Roy Clark’s “Lawrence Welk/Hee Haw Revolution Polka” Or Johnny Cash’s “Everybody Loves a Nut” Or The Chad Mitchell Trio’s “Song of the Temperance Union.”

If there ever was a case of “Dad says po-tay-to and Mom says po-tah-to,” it was in my family. Dad’s cultural saving grace, however, came in the form of the listening room in the school of music at the University of Iowa. There he would go for a peaceful place to study, slip on a headset, and listen to some of the best of the best in classical music. Though it never was his passion, he learned to enjoy classical symphonic music. The listening room filled in the gap between playing clarinet in high school marching band and his wife being a concert mistress.

My own theme song, from a family culture standpoint, would have to be “I Want a Guy, Just like the guy that married dear old Mom.” Only my husband Steve played saxophone in his high school band. He also plays the autoharp and hammered dulcimer from time to time. But his tastes really do run from the ridiculous (McClain Family) to the sublime (King’s College Choir). By the 1960’s, high school band directors were choosing a lot more symphonic arrangements and broadening the tastes of their students. Without that, it is unlikely that we would have spent as many joyous and romantic “intervals” overlooking the Thames from the balcony at the Royal Festival Hall as God has blessed us to have.

When we were coming up on our fourth anniversary, Steve bought us tickets to a performance of Handel’s Messiah to be performed by the Colorado Symphony and Chorus. It was a big professional production. My heart yearned with anticipation for several weeks after we got our tickets. I lined up a babysitter for our then eight-month-old baby daughter— my good friend and fellow piano teacher, Debby. She was an experienced mom who also happened to love classical music and so especially understood my need.

The morning of the performance we were scheduled to see, my daughter came down with some childhood virus and was running a fever of 103′. What to doཀཀ?? My friend Debby had a lot of experience with sick babies. Hers were frequently sick. She assured me that it would be fine to leave my decidedly sick baby at her house and go to the concert anyway.

All day I tried to convince myself that it would be fine to leave our suffering baby daughter with a babysitter and go enjoy a concert. All day I tried to convince myself that if I did decide to go to the concert, I would indeed enjoy it, in spite of worrying about my sick daughter at home. By noon, I knew deep down that I could not go to the concert and enjoy it. I also knew that if I didn’t go, I still wanted my husband to use our tickets so that we didn’t entirely waste the experience or the large amount of money we had spent on it. He did go— with Debby’s husband— imagine a pastor and a telephone lineman having “guys’ night out” at the symphonyཀ

As a professional musician, I have had many experiences with Handel’s Messiah. I have sung major portions of it, I have played major portions of it as a violinist and as an organist, I have even played tympani for the Hallelujah Chorus. But the most important experience I ever had with The Messiah was the day that it forced me to grow up— to put someone else’s needs and desires ahead of my own.

In a certain sense, Handel himself grew up with The Messiah. When he agreed to work on the Biblical libretto that had been supplied to him, he set aside all else in order to compose the music. Previously he had been caught up in trying to attract the attention of the King of England and curry his favor. Handel desired above all to be selected as the composer laureate of England. Two of his other highly popular works, Music for the Royal Fireworks and Water Music, were written specifically for that self-centered purpose. His operas were written in a showy style with a position in high society in mind.

The Messiah, however, was different. The gravity of the text sank into his soul. He completed the massive work with the fervor of the Israelites when they rebuilt the walls of Jerusalem. And he completed his monumental work in about the same amount of time as they did. The first performance was not even in England— it was in Ireland. The proceeds were donated to charities for the downcast of society. Ironically, it was the magnificent “Hallelujah Chorus” which did get the attention of the king when the work was finally performed in London. Also ironic is the fact that the Hallelujah Chorus is one of the top five most played and most recognized classical works world-wide— unlike Handel’s “pop” compositions.

In a few minutes, I will close this entry because once again, 26 years later, I am scheduled to go to a performance of Handel’s Messiah. This time it is a “sing-along.” I am taking my score and I do plan to sing along. I am going with my husband, two daughters, and three sons. Two other daughters and a son-in-law are members of the Greeley Chorale and will be performing. This concert is even more meaningful because of that time years ago when Mr. Handel forced me to grow up. And this time our entire family will enjoy it.

Post Script:

I am adding this post script after the concert, which will live in all of our memories as a mountain top expression of faith, friendship, and family.

Faith: Who could not be blessed and spiritually edified to sing and to hear again the stirring words and music of The Messiahཀ? Our friend, Christopher Laws, organist at the Metropolitan Tabernacle in London, teaches that worship is an activity of the mind and must involve edifying words. Additionally those words must be “wedded” to suitable music that draws out the full meaning of the words.

What a sublime example of this principle is found in Handel’s Messiahཀ

Friendship: We saw many people we have gotten to know during our 30-year sojourn in Greeley. Several members of our church and students from our school were seated in close proximity to us. We know many members of the Chorale– some from our long involvement at UNC. Two of them we first met in a water fitness class at the city recreation center, and no, they weren’t performing “Water Music.” Our city of 100,000 still has many marks and benefits of small town community.

Family: The performance was not only a family experience for our family. Dr. Carl Gerbrandt, the conductor and music director of the Chorale, was also emotionally involved in the best possible way. His wife is a singer in the chorale and his son was the bass soloist. Dr. Gerbrandt did a masterful job of balancing the informality of coaching the audience through our sing-along portions and managing the appreciative but spastic applause with quintessential graciousness and international-level professionalism. Dr. Gerbrandt’s son, Gregory, is a rising international singer in his own right. Our joy was greatly increased when dad threw his arms around son and gave him a big bear hug at the close of the performance.

The Christmas season is about Father sending Son to do a great work— the work of the redemption of mankind. It is good to be reminded that unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given, and that surely He hath born our sorrows, that the Lamb is worthy of all honor, and especially that “He shall reign forever and ever.”

Essay Nine

A Beautiful Time of Year

by Teri Ong

We had a rare snow storm on Christmas Day in our town. Even though many people associate Colorado with snow, that generalization applies much more to the mountains than it does to the plains. We statistically have much less than a 50% chance of having snow on the ground on Christmas day and a very small chance of getting fresh snow on Christmas. The city of Denver got 7 inches on Christmas this year, and it was the biggest Christmas Day snowfall ever recorded.

Just about everyone in my family likes fresh snow at this time of year. Later in the season it becomes more of a trial of patience; but whether it is due to Irving Berlin or merely that he was expressing popular sentiment, many people above a certain line of latitude do dream of a white Christmas.

The older I get, the less I am a fan of snow. But it is beautiful to look at through the window with a cup of steaming coffee in hand. My husband commented that the snow makes everything look fresh and clean. It covers up all that is ugly and dirty. We have noticed that it also makes everything seem quieter. I don’t know if this is due to a true insulating property or if it just keeps more people off the streets of our downtown neighborhood. Snow also makes everything seem very bright. This is true if it happens day or night.

I was reflecting on whether or not white is scripturally a “Christmas color” when it came to me that the reason for Christ’s birth was our redemption from the penalty of our sinfulness. God said, through the prophet Isaiah,

Come now, and let us reason together, says the Lord,

Though your sins are as scarlet,

They will be as white as snow;

Though they are red like crimson,

They will be like wool. (Isaiah 1:18)

There it is — white as snow. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we really understood what it meant to dream of a white Christmas?ཀ

Christ’s whiteness doesn’t just cover up the dirt and ugliness of our lives; He takes it away. His whiteness calms the clamor of our souls and brings peace and quiet. The brightness of His whiteness lights our darkness.

My husband, Steve, mentioned in his sermon Sunday that there are two words in Greek that may be translated as “good” — agathos and kalos. Agathos is intrinsic goodness while kalos means “valuable or virtuous for appearance or use,” “properly, beautiful.” (Strong #2570)

Snow is kalos. The snow of Christ is kalos and agathos— good and beautiful in every way. I was reminded of an old French Christmas carol, “Il Est Bel et Bon” — He is beautiful and good.

Keeping in mind Isaiah 1:18 brings a beautiful metaphoric meaning to Christina Rosetti’s poem, “In the bleak mid-winter.”

In the bleak mid-winter

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak mid-winter,

Long ago.

Our God, heav’n cannot hold Him

Nor earth sustain;

Heav’n and earth shall flee away

When He comes to reign;

In the bleak mid-winter

A stable-place sufficed

The Lord God Almighty,

Jesus Christ.

The first stanza sets a scene of bleakness, coldness, and hardness — an apt description of the human condition without Christ. Then the God whom heaven cannot hold comes to change that human condition — He comes to a stable to be comforted with his maiden mother’s milk and a manger full of hay, and to be worshiped with a motherly kiss. For what purpose? To break the bleakness and lighten the darkness of our wintry hearts by making them as white as snow through His ultimate death and resurrection on our behalf.

Many people in tropical climates know nothing about a “white Christmas.” It is foreign to their experience. Some have experienced some little bit of snow or had a vicarious experience through tv and movies, but will only “dream” of a snowy day. In a spiritual sense, many people have no idea what it means for Christ to make their sins as white as snow, and other who have had brief encounters with the Gospel may only recall some childhood experience with a bit of nostalgia.

We pray that you are among those fully experiencing a “white” Christmas this year through trust in the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. (John 1:29)