The message arrived shortly after I wrote an editorial, titled "Podcasts, preaching and pornography," that compared porn-powered unrealistic expectations in a marriage to podcast-propelled unrealistic expectations in churches. The editorial touched a nerve, judging by the private emails and other comments I received.

My friend asked some great, hard questions. And certainly-but-unfortunately, there are no easy answers.

I tend to tilt away from agreeing that "not being fed" is sufficient reason for leaving a church. But then again, I'm pretty sympathetic to preachers, since I'm (a) a "preacher's kid," (b) a preacher's brother, (c) a preacher's father-in-law and (d) good friends with tons of preachers, and I (e) know from experience how hard it is to preach.

The research shows …

My assumption is supported, at least to some extent, by research conducted by Willow Creek Community Church in 2007 and published in a book titled Reveal: Where Are You?  (If you follow this link, scroll down to the review.) Specifically, the research—conducted nationwide among 500 churches—shows the two most spiritually mature groups, the "Close to Christ" and "Christ Followers," included a significant percentage of church members who were dissatisfied with their congregations and said they weren't being "fed." 

Willow Creek's critics and supporters have debated whether this is an indictment of the "seeker sensitive" churches. However, given the breadth of the survey and the presence of disappointed "Close to Christ" members and "Christ Followers"  in all the congregations, the survey data point to a persistent problem that transcends church style and focus.

Feed yourself

Willow Creek Pastor Bill Hybels' takeaway from the research concludes churches need to do a better job of teaching members to feed themselves. This includes teaching them how to study their Bibles, encouraging them to practice the spiritual disciplines of prayer and meditation, involving them in vibrant small groups, and  engaging them in ministry and outreach to others.

A church cannot be all things to all people. So, the Reveal survey indicates stronger members should take responsibility for their own spiritual growth while they help and encourage the church and its ministers to provide what might, in other segments, be called remedial support for less-mature members.

Preachers still responsible

Still, that doesn't give pastors a pass on  preaching. Even though they deal with myriad responsibilities during the week, the worship service is most Christians' strongest connection to their church and, often, the primary source of their spiritual grounding. Preachers should do everything they can to make sure they're prepared to preach inspired, helpful, practical, interesting sermons.

To accomplish this, they must exercise discipline. If they don't spend enough time in prayer, Bible study and sermon planning, their shortcomings will show. And given the richness, depth and texture of the Bible, the complexity of our world and the challenge of living authentic Christian lives, no pastor should deliver shallow, dull sermons.

Reasons to leave

About good reasons to leave a church: I lean the other way.

People go through seasons in their lives, and sometimes it's probably best for them to move on to another church, whatever the background reasons. Life's too short—or too long, depending on how you look at it—to be unhappy and to make other people unhappy.

So, if folks can't get reconciled and be joyful and productive in Church A, then I'm in favor of them moving on to Church B. But they also should practice selective amnesia. When they make the move, they need to forget the frustration, anger, resentment or whatever emotions they associated with the previous church, or else they'll just carry toxic feelings into their new church.

This is serious, complicated stuff. Christians of goodwill can, and do, disagree. But we should be honest with ourselves and each other as we deal with vital church issues.

Americans historically and reflexively—and with excellent reason—proclaim our allegiance to democracy. We were born and raised on democracy. We cheer when our leaders express our aspirations for democracy—not only for ourselves, but for all nations. We romanticize democracy in poetry and song. Most significantly, our finest sons and daughters have shed their blood for democracy.

So, what happens when persecuted and put-down people plead for democracy AND their worldview differs radically from the way most Americans see things?

We’re about to find out.

Mubarak vs. the people

For a little more than two weeks now, we’ve been riveted to news from Egypt, where protestors rose up against the government of Hosni Mubarak. If you’ve paid attention to news from Egypt across the past 30 years, you quite likely sympathize with them. Mubarak succeeded the great peacemaker, Anwar Sadat, in 1981. He survived as leader of one of Africa’s and the Middle East’s most powerful nations by exerting a strong arm holding a ruthless stick. 

Leadership has paid off handsomely for Mubarak, whose family’s wealth is estimated to be between $40 billion and $70 billion.  Meanwhile, Egypt’s standard of living—already low by international comparisons—has fallen steadily the past 20 years. Even the educated middle class has seen its purchasing power eroded by inflation since the 1980s.

Complicated diplomacy

But Egypt has been one of the United States’ strongest allies in the region and arguably its most strategic counterpart within the Arab world. Mubarak may be a thug, but he’s our thug. 

That’s basically why President Obama and U.S. diplomats have followed such a carefully measured response to the Egyptian revolution. They have backed away from Mubarak so imperceptively you could hardly see them moving until you finally noticed the gap. They don’t want to blow Egypt, much less the Middle East, to kingdom come.

The last thing we need is another Iran. If you’re of a certain age or you’ve been blessed by good history teachers, you remember what happened when the Shah of Iran—another strong ally of the United States in the Middle East—fell. An Islamic theocracy led by Muslim clerics took his place, and Iran tilted far away from the United States and its reasonable neighbors.

A democratically installed Islamic state?

No one knows what kind of government will lead Egypt once Mubarak is removed. The Muslim Brotherhood is one of the strongest opposition groups.  Although it historically has advocated nonviolence and even spoke out against the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the specter of an Islamist group leading Egypt is unsettling. 

But what if that's what the Egyptian people want? A recent Pew Research study showed  Egyptians strongly favor democracy. And they also strongly believe Islam is good for the country. The survey, conducted last spring, showed that six in 10 Egyptians (59%) favor democracy as the preferred form of government. The poll also revealed that more than eight in 10 Egyptians (85%) believe Islam's influence on government is positive.

Tough questions

So, what do we think about a democratically elected Islamic state? This raises several questions, some very closely related and some less so:

• If Americans historically and philosophically believe in democracy, what is our responsibility to help ensure democracy for others? 

• Specifically, what is our obligation to nurture democracy that could turn an ally into an enemy?

• Beyond that, what is our greater obligation: The U.S. national interest, or the good of other people as human beings?

• Would Jesus compel us to preserve our national security, standard of living, borders and worldview if releasing or relaxing all of them would secure a higher standard of living and greater freedom for an even-greater number of people around the world?

• And what should we do when democracy and evangelism come to cross purposes? Imagine a strong leader who would repress his people but allow missionaries to minister with freedom and security, contrasted with a democratically established Islamic state that does not allow missionaries.

I don't see these issues raised clearly in the secular media, but they're important questions to be answered in Egypt and, perhaps, throughout the Middle East.

Super Bowl XLV (English translation: 45) will kick off in Cowboys Stadium Sunday evening. This will be the first time The Greatest Sporting Event on Earth has been held in the home dome of America's Team.

Shocking, I know. Every now and then, I meet a grown-up U.S. citizen who never has set foot on Texas soil. I'm always surprised. And the same goes for the Super Bowl. How could it possibly grow to the ripe old age of XLV and never before blow out its birthday candles in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex?

Our kinda game

Some people think the Super Bowl is a metaphor for extravagant excess, which should mean it was invented in our neck of the woods—or our elbow of the plains, as the case may be. A Super Bowl in Dallas-Fort Worth-Arlington is a match made in Canton, Ohio, which happens to be heaven for everyone who places his-or-her faith in the National Football League. After all, North Texas put the big in hair, the shiny in suits, the God in gaudy. But it took XLV years for the NFL to come to its senses. Amazing.

True confession: I've been a big fan of The Big Game since Super Bowl III, when I was XII years old, back in MCMLXIX. That was the year Joe Willie Namath "promised" the American Football League's New York Jets would defeat its formidable foe, the NFL's Baltimore Colts. And he delivered. Every boy I knew wanted a green-and-white jersey with Broadway Joe's number, XII.

But I became enamored with the Super Bowl when it was only V years old, because that was the first time my team, the Dallas Cowboys, played in it. (That Sunday turned out to be doubly sad. The Cowboys lost to the Colts, and my first crush—a cute little blonde named Becky—called to break up with me at halftime. At least she didn't interrupt the game.) Through the years, the Cowboys have played in VIII Super Bowls and won V of them. Sadly, it's been a long, dry spell for America's Team. Their last appearance, a victory in Super Bowl XXX, took place XV years ago.

Oh, the irony

This year's Super Bowl is full of irony:

• The combatants are the Cowboys' nemesis of the MCMLXs, the Green Bay Packers, and their fearsome foes of the ’LXXs, the Pittsburgh Steelers. Losses to the Packers kept the Cowboys out of Super Bowls I and II. In fact, the IInd loss took place on "the frozen tundra" of Lambeau Field in what came to be known as the Ice Bowl. Game-time temperature was -XV degrees, and the Packers won on a quarterback sneak with less than a minute to play. (I cried more when Bart Starr scored that touchdown than I did when Becky broke my heart III years later.) And in the ’LXXs, the Steelers and the Cowboys dominated the NFL, with the Pittsburghers typically getting the best of Our Local Heroes.

• To compound this year's irony, the Cowboys hoped to be the first NFL team to both host and play in (read: win) the Super Bowl. At least that's what they said back last summer, before the season  started. Someone forgot to tell the Cowboys they actually had to play—and win—other games first. Once they kicked off, they acted like they were prepped to play Class A football in Indiana, where people think football is for guys who can't play a real sport. Like basketball. 

But Super Bowl XLV will  be played in Cowboys Stadium, known around these parts as Jerry World for the Cowboys' owner, Jerry Jones. It's the most expensive stadium in this or any universe. If people still were wow-able enough to use the term, they would call Cowboys Stadium the "Eighth Wonder of the World." Goodness, the TV monitor suspended over the field cost more than the old Texas Stadium, where the Cowboys played for XXXIX years.  

• The average daily high temperature this time of year in Dallas-Fort Worth is LVI degrees. The average daily precipitation this time of year in Fort Worth-Dallas is, oh, about nothing. 

This week, however, we've been matching the daily highs of somewhere in Canada, and our highways and byways have shined under a nice little coat of ice. Note to people not from around here about ice on our roads: (a) We don't really know how to remove it. And (b) we certainly don't know how to drive on it.

Heresy: God loves Packers & Steelers

Personally, I think God made up this weather to welcome the Packers and the Steelers, who live in places where winter is the time of year for wearing XIII layers of clothing and going on about your business. 

Everybody associated with this Super Bowl wanted it to be perfect. And that meant perfect weather all week. So many parties and Super Bowl events take place before the big game, the kickoff is anti-climactic. Last week, the Good Lord gave us Hawaiian weather. This week, we got the Arctic. 

If money could buy a perfect week for a Super Bowl, Jerry Jones and his Dallas friends would've bought it. If expectations could put the Cowboys in a Super Bowl played in their own house, we'd be getting ready to watch the Boys crush the Steelers.

When will you-know-where freeze over?

But God has a sense of humor, and so we got an icy week. All we can do is wait for next year to see if the Cowboys get to  Super Bowl XLVI. And we can wait for hell to freeze over (which, this week, seems like a distinct possibility) to see if the Big Game ever will return to these parts.

I'm not sure what else has happened this week, but it will be one of the best in our family's history. Ezra popped into this world at 12:56 p.m., Tuesday, Jan. 18.

For all you baby-stats fans: 8 pounds, 8 ounces (what a whopper!) and 20 inches. 

Ezra is handsome, of course. And quite a charmer. I already love him more than I love my dog, Topanga, and that's saying something. Friends tell me my job is to spoil him, and I'm working on my list. I'll keep you posted. … 

If I can figure out how to do it, I'll post a picture of the young man and his mama, our older daughter, Lindsay. 

Our nation has taken many positive steps since Dr. King led us toward civil rights. Unfortunately, we still are not a nation of brotherhood and sisterhood for all our residents. We have work to do.

As we celebrate Dr. King's birthday, we would do well to re-imagine his dream for this country. You can read his famous "I Have a Dream" speech here and view it here.

The Civility Project was a bipartisan endeavor, aimed at creating mutual respect among politicians and other Americans, as well as inspiring them to treat each other kindly. But founder Mark DeMoss shut down the effort Jan. 3, after only three members of Congress signed on.

DeMoss launched the Civility Project a couple of years ago with political consultant Lanny Davis. Their venture spanned the political divide. DeMoss is a Republican, whose PR firm represents some of the nation's most prominent evangelical leaders. He's a former aide to the late Moral Majority leader Jerry Falwell and adviser to 2008 Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney. Davis is a Democrat, a former special counsel to President Bill Clinton and former Democratic National Committee member.

Civility pledge

In January 2009, they mailed 585 letters, asking every governor and member of Congress to sign the Civility Pledge.  It stated:

• I will be civil in my public discourse and behavior.

• I will be respectful of others, whether or not I agree with them.

• I will stand against incivility when I see it.

But in two years, they received just three pledges. Only Sen. Joe Lieberman, I-Conn.; Rep. Sue Myrick, R-N.C.; and Rep. Frank Wolf, R-Va., signed on to be civil.

Stumbling at a low bar

In a recent letter to those lawmakers, DeMoss wrote, “I must admit to scratching my head as to why only three members of Congress, and no governors, would agree to what I believe is a rather low bar.”

As a bona fide conservative himself, DeMoss told the New York Times, he particularly was surprised by hostility to the pledge expressed by fellow conservatives. “The worst e-mails I received about the Civility Project were from conservatives with just unbelievable language about communists, and some words I wouldn’t use in this phone call,” he said to a Times reporter. “This political divide has become so sharp that everything is black and white, and too many conservatives can see no redeeming value in any liberal or Democrat. That would probably be true about some liberals going the other direction, but I didn’t hear from them.”

Perhaps DeMoss received such harsh treatment from conservatives because he's one of their own, and they viewed his action as treason to their cause. Perhaps he received such harsh treatment because that's the standard form of expression on political broadcasts and blogs, and they didn't even consider it harsh.

And perhaps he did not receive similar treatment from liberals simply because he was off their radar. Anyone who pays close and unbiased attention to political rhetoric will acknowledge venom and vitriol are not exclusive to either party or to any segment of the social landscape. Liberals who disagree with DeMoss are capable of harangue, if only they know and/or care.

Transcending Tucson

Civility has received scrutiny since Jan. 8, when a gunman massacred six people and injured 14 others in Tucson. But keep in mind DeMoss pulled the plug on the Civility Project five days before the Arizona rampage. His decision has nothing to do with whether politicians inspired Jared Loughner to carry a semi-automatic pistol to a strip mall. 

No, DeMoss is dealing with a larger, ongoing context. It's about Americans' disturbing disinclination to be decent.

And it's not simply about whether people yell on TV and radio programs and write angry comments on blogs and news sites. It's not even about whether we're nice to each other.

It's about whether we're going to be the kind of nation our founders invisioned and every generation up to now aspired to be: A free and open and cooperative nation, where we may disagree, but we do so agreeably. A nation where we seek the welfare of all residents, particularly the most vulnerable. A nation where we achieve consensus for the good of the whole. 

It's also about how we will go about being that kind of nation, particularly as we seek to solve the problems that loom all around us. Serious issues—from the economy, to education, to health care, to defense, to international relations, to immigration and much more—demand our best, most cooperative efforts. We cannot exert those efforts if our primary goal is to achieve political advantage. Improving America requires decent, civil, constructive conversation and fair-minded decision-making. 

Unfortunately, the Civility Project got turned down, 582-3. That's not encouraging.

The writer of Proverbs advised: "A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger." That is good advice for America today.

Barna, head of the Barna Group research agency, notes six themes emerge from more than 5,000 interviews with American Christians in the past year. His analysis "provides a time-lapse portrayal of how the religious environment in the U.S. is morphing into something new," according to a report released by the organization.

You can read the full story here. But here's an extremely condensed version of the findings:

1. The Christian Church is becoming less theologically literate. Don't believe Barna? Volunteer to work in your church's ministry to teens or young adults. I've been fortunate to teach a Sunday school class of bright, inquisitive young couples, and we've been working on thinking theologically for several years now. But far too many of their counterparts (a) don't know the Bible and consequently (b) are subject to gibberish interpretations of basic theological concepts. 

But come to think of it, many older folks aren't much better off. Don't believe it? Read some of the scare-yourself-silly emails many senior adults—lifelong menbers of Baptist churches—share with each other. If they could and would think theologically, they'd hit the "send" button many fewer times. The primary culprit is lazy, lackadaisical Bible study. 

Interestingly, many of the churches that are doing the best job of reaching people for Christ focus on serious, in-depth Bible teaching and preaching.

2. Christians are becoming more ingrown and less outreach-oriented. "Christians are becoming more spiritually isolated from non-Christians than was true a decade ago," the Barna report notes. Small wonder. This is, at least in part, attributable to many Christians' fear of culture and non-Christians. We've done a great job building Christian ghettos. In some communities, you can go from cradle to grave and never deal substantively with non-Christians. 

3. Growing numbers of people are less interested in spiritual principles and more desirous of learning pragmatic solutions for life. This trend reflects Christians' love for success. Laypeople want to know how Christianity can make their lives better in the here and now. Pastors who want to preach to lots of laypeople have figured out how to give ’em what they want. Many of the most famous pastors in the country built pious reputations and vast media ministries on sermons that had more to do with calming psyches than setting souls on fire.

4. Among Christians, interest in participating in community action is escalating. This is the single positive trend among Barna's findings. Inspired by young people who want to engage in hands-on service, many churches and Christians have flocked to community ministry. As Barna notes, they'll burn out if they don't serve out of love for Christ and the people Christ loved, rather than a simple moral commitment to do good.

5. The postmodern insistence on tolerance is winning over the Christian church. This trend is the paradoxical corollary to #2. On the one hand, Christians are increasingly isolated from "different" people. On the other hand, we're content to leave them alone. This trend also reflects theological illiteracy, because people who don't know how to articulate theological belief (if, indeed, they believe anything) place a premium on getting along. And in this age of cultural aggression, far too many Christians don't realize they simultaneously can disagree with others, speak the truth of our faith, and remain agreeable.

6. The influence of Christianity on culture and individual lives is largely invisible. This is true of the right and the left. Strident Christians on both ends of the spectrum typically sound more like political activists than proclaimers of the gospel. And the broad, selfish, consumerist Christian middle looks and acts a lot like the broad, selfish, consumerist middle class from which they sprung.

Well, Barna said all these things much more politely than I have. But his findings are food for thought. They should cause all of us to question how we must shape our lives to more clearly reflect the mind of Christ.

That was the year we had a "real" Christmas tree. We bought it at a lot from Boy Scouts. I thoroughly enjoyed that tree, because it made our home "smell like Christmas." At least, it reminded me of the scents that filled the Baptist parsonages where I grew up.

A couple of days after Christmas, I tied the tree on top of our car and hauled it to a park, where city workers received Christmas trees as part of our community's recycling/beautification program. I untied the tree, lifted it from the car, and handed it to a young man in heavy overalls, standing beside a wood chipper. About three seconds later, that tree—symbol of Christmas, which deepened our joy that year—turned to mulch.

For me, that tree-t0-mulch process provided a metaphor for how quickly people move past Christmas. The anticipation builds for weeks. A spirit of hope and goodwill fills churches on Christmas Eve. Families gather around the trinitarian ritual of the day—Christmas story, gift exchange and feast. And then the world returns to "normal."

That's what I meant. After a brief respite of happiness and glad tidings, the "real world" crashes back in. Two days later, you hardly can tell Christmas happened. Decorations come down, worries replace happiness, business as usual.

Correct, but incomplete

My observations were correct. But they were incomplete.

This year, I'm reminded how nothing is "over" like Christmas, because Christmas isn't over. It's never over.

As I write this, my mind keeps wondering to the bedside of a dear friend who realizes each day may be his last. Joanna and I have been praying for him, his wife, and their family. For months, we prayed for healing and courage. For several weeks, we've been praying for grace and peace and hope. We trust God to answer this latest prayer, even though our pleas for healing were not answered as we wished. 

My mind also keeps turning to another friend, who begins his third round of chemotherapy this week and looks toward major surgery in a couple of months. You know I'm praying for healing and courage. And from what the doctors say, the likelihood he will be healed is quite good. So, I pray with hope.

And, of course, I can't stop thinking about the upcoming birth of Ezra, our first grandchild. Lindsay, his mama, is doing very well, and his due date is zooming toward us. So, I keep praying for baby and mom, asking God to bless them both and bring them safely through this birth.

Meanwhile, the newspaper reports war, unemployment, severe weather, accidents, political clashes. Life is hard.

Because of Christmas …

But because of Christmas, we live in hope. Because of Christmas, I know my friend soon will be with his heavenly Father, and all his suffering will cease. We who love him will grieve, but our groanings will be for our loss and for the sorrow of his family, but not for him. Because of Christmas, I know the power of God is greater than the downdraft of this world, and so I pray in hope for my other friend as he begins Chemo Round 3 and faces surgery. Because of Christmas, I know little Ezra's life will have profound meaning. He will grow up, as I did, in a pastor's home, and I pray he will know Jesus—the Christ of Christmas—as his Savior someday. And he will celebrate Christmases for decades to come. 

Christmas will not be over. Not on New Year's Day. Not in this winter and spring. Not in Ezra's lifetime, nor in the lifetime of his grandchildren.

Thanks be to God.

One of the aspects of our community Joanna and I like best is the Christmas decorations. Most folks around us really get into the spirit. They light up their houses and their lawns, and some even light their fences. If we go out in the evening, we almost always take a detour on the way home, just to see the sights.

The house that always shows everybody up is the home of a guy who pulls a full-size sleigh into his yard and lights it up like, well, Christmas. And then Santa sits out in the sleigh for two hours every night. Every night. He listens to requests from boys and girls, and he poses for pictures. I hear he makes a list and even checks it twice. 

The red and white lights that outline the stone contours of our flower bed borders don't hold a Christmas candle to Santa. But folks say our house looks pretty, too.

But nothing can compare to the decorations God has been flinging across the sky. In about a 12-hour span covering just one night, I saw three spectacles that sent my soul soaring.

Sunset

It started in the evening, as Joanna and I drove west, toward a party in Fort Worth. The western sky looked like it was on fire. Red, orange, magenta and purple clouds fanned across the western horizon, spanning from south to north. They took our breath away, they were so lovely.

"Those look like Jesus-coming-back clouds," Jo observed. 

If they were, I might've been tempted to ask the Lord of Hosts: "Could you wait a few minutes? Everybody in Kingdom Come ought to watch this sunset first!"

Eclipse

That night, we set our alarm for 1:40 a.m. so we could get up and watch the lunar eclips. Pete Delkus, our weatherman, said it was the first eclipse of the moon to take place at the winter solstice in three hundred and something years. And it was worth the wait.

The moon got progressively darker, but instead of turning to black, it blossomed into a deep red. I'm sure  if the ancients ever glimpsed such a sight, they probably thought The End had come. 

The next morning, I got up while it was still dark. When I went out to get the paper, the moon was radiant white, just glistening in the winter sky.

Sunrise

About an hour later, as I drove to work, I reveled in a sunrise that, if anything, surpassed the previous night's sunset. The only difference is the morning sky progresses toward shades of orange and gold and yellow, as opposed to the ever-darkening evening sky.

All three times, as my face turned toward the heavens, I marveled in God's glory. The Author of beauty penned three testimonies to his brilliance, and I rejoiced. 

God's spectacle just before Christmas outshone anything humans ever could conceive. Somewhere, angels sang.

I’m not talking about the people who declaim, “Happy Holidays” and/or “Season’s Greetings.” They typically seem sincere in their well-wishes, eager to please, slow to take offense.

But, oh, their counterparts. I’m talking about those mirthless messengers of “Merry Christmas” who demand strict and absolute reciprocity. They’ve just about jammed the joy out of Jesus. Yanked the yippee out of the yuletide. And, although they would be shocked to hear it, crowded the Christ out of Christmas.

Merry Christmas to you

Before we go on, you should know where I stand: I’m a “Merry Christmas” guy. That’s how I greet people this time of year. As a Christian, I’m celebrating Jesus’ birth. So, this is a merry season for me, and I wish that kind of joy and gladness for others, whatever their spiritual pilgrimage. I hope I always bestow “Merry Christmas” sincerely and with goodwill. I want those who do not share my beliefs to know I truly wish them merriment and happiness. And I want those for whom this time of year brings sorrow to sense Jesus’ loving presence.

At the same time, I take no offense from those who greet me with “Happy Holidays” or “Season’s Greetings.” Some hold other beliefs about Jesus, and wishing me merriment on his birthday would conflict their consciences. I shouldn’t expect them to urge me to enjoy my Savior’s birthday any more than I would expect to greet them with faith-specific salutations of Rosh Hashanah, Ramadan, Navaratra Dashara or Bodhi Day.

Likewise, I understand merchants, service organizations and government agencies count constituents not only among Christians, but also Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists and people of other faiths and no faith. Even though most claim to be Christian, I shouldn’t expect them to cater to us at the expense of others. “Happy Holidays” is generic, but that does not negate its generosity.

Just when you think it can’t get worse …

As we approached Christmas, I hoped the quality of our communal conversations would be civil, if not downright kind. With wars, unemployment, a sagging economy, government stagnation, mine explosions and other calamity, this year seems like a good time to call a truce to the Christmas battle in the culture war.

But don’t you know, a new website exploits seasonal hostility, emotional insecurity and Christian entitlement. It’s an online watering hole, where the easily offended can gather to lick their wounds and lament the loss of yore. It’s a place to lambaste businesses and organizations that emphasize the “Holidays” instead of Christmas, label them “naughty,” not “nice,” and compare them to Dr. Seuss’ great green goblin, the Grinch.

Sadly, but not surprisingly, this site is sponsored by a church. So, in the name of the Christ whose birth we celebrate, Christians criticize and ridicule others who don’t celebrate the season their way. Unfortunately, they can’t extract the sugarplum from another’s eye because they have a yule log in their own.

What’s wrong with this picture?

The Say-“Merry-Christmas”-Or-Else crowd’s approach to this holy holiday is wrong for at least three reasons.

First, it contradicts the real reason for the season. Traditionally, Christians have said Jesus was born in Bethlehem because “God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, so that whoever believes in him will not perish, but have everlasting life.” At Christmas, Christians should reflect God’s sacrificial love for the world, not go around looking for a fight.

Second, it’s just plain hypocritical. I read many of the comments on the naughty-or-nice website. It’s obvious many Christians say “Merry Christmas” as a litmus test, not as a sincere expression of joy and gladness. They’re saying it to see if the other person will respond appropriately. If I say, “Merry Christmas” to you, and you reply, “Happy Holidays” to me, then I can puff up with righteous indignation, boycott your business and tell all my friends and neighbors what rotten scum you are—all in the “spirit” of Christmas. If you don’t sincerely wish merriment when you say the words, then you’re just a hypocrite.

Third, and finally, it’s counter-productive. A pitched battle over two-word phrases only pushes people away from Jesus. Did Jesus come to Earth so his followers could feel superior to anyone who doesn’t say his name right? Did he die for souls so those who accept redemption can exercise anger at, rather than agony for, those who have not receive such a great gift of grace? Of course not.

Grace, not anger

Why not lighten up this Christmas. Wish friends, neighbors, store clerks, government workers, shop owners and people on the street a Merry Christmas. Mean it. Say it with a smile on your face and love in your heart. And don’t get overwrought with how they respond.

Perhaps our gentle spirits—instead of our combative shouts—can gently encourage people to consider the love that brought a Baby to a Judean manger. And perhaps he will become their Savior, too.

Merry Christmas.

You might think "love" would be the easiest focus of Advent. But I'm not so sure.

Of course, Christmas and the cusp of a new year provide a great time to count our blessings. For most of us, the people we love rank high on the list. When I thank God for the blessings in my life, my wife, our daughters and their husbands, our expected grandchild, my parents and brother and extended family and friends land at the tip-top of my list. Recognizing the bounty of love I receive and the gladness of love I give comes easy, especially this time of year.

Counter-cultural command

But Jesus—the grown-up Jesus, whose life and pattern we follow the rest of the year—commanded us to love. And, as counter-cultural as it may seem, he didn't put qualifications on that love. 

Talking to his followers, he explicitly commanded them—and us: “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:34-35). Of course, the church has spent 2,000 years defying his command. If we can't love one another, how can we imagine loving others?

Loving … enemies?

But that's exactly what he told us to do.  When someone asked Jesus to define a neighbor—someone obviously worthy of love—Jesus surprised his audience. He told a story about his listeners' harshest rival and bitterest enemy.

In his most-famous sermon, he spelled it out clearly: “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous" (Matthew 5:43-45).

Let's face it, we live in unloving times. Virtually every sector of our culture highlights and emphasizes the opposite of love.

An ironic, tragic and, yes, darkly humorous episode of a news program featured contestants from a long line of "reality" TV shows fairly spitting out their mantra, "I didn't come here to make friends." They compete to win money, not to care about others, to risk loving others.

Talk-media, covering everything from sports to politics to entertainment, focuses on anger, put-downs, retribution. 

And politics. Where to start? The end game is to destroy the enemy so your "side" can win the next election. Never mind that politicians can't love each other. They don't even love the American people, or else they would get along for the good of the country. No love there.

You can think of your own examples.

Loving the world

Explaining his own birth among humanity, Jesus pointed to love: "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life" (John 3:16).

God loves the world. Not just Christians. Not just nice people. Not just people like us. The world. 

What better way to celebrate that love than by sharing it with others. The good news is that our acts of loving kindness will stand out, because they will contrast so sharply with what we've cone to expect. And they can serve as a new star to guide people to Jesus, the Christ, whose birth we soon will celebrate.

 The headlines mix hope and fear: The weekend after Thanksgiving, shoppers spent 6.4 percent more than the same period last year, but economists don't know if the good news will last. South Korea's president, Lee Myung Bak, threatened North Korea "will be made to pay" if it provokes its nemesis again. WikiLeaks' release of classified diplomatic documents could destablilize international relations and put lives at risk.

That's just one day's news—one newspaper, top half of the front page. Look inside or tune to the nightly news and talk radio, and turn to the weekly magazines and just about anywhere else "news" is featured, and you'll uncover many more reasons to dredge up dread than to harbor hope.

That's just one of the reasons I'm always thrilled Advent begins with hope.

Anticipating the arrival

You know about Advent—the season of the church year that begins four Sundays prior to Christmas and ends on Christmas eve. Many, perhaps most, Baptists strangle on the A-word. For some, "Advent" sounds too much like something Catholics observe. Others simplly don't know the term. So, most of us call this "the Christmas season," which is safer, not to mention clear.

I like "Advent" because it reminds us we're awaiting the arrival of Jesus, the Christ-child. Unfortunately, "Christmas season" has become secularized, busy, labored. But "Advent" helps me center on the meaning of the season. It reminds me to live with expectation, anticipation, gladness. Even when annoying Christmas commercials drive me to distraction. Even when I can't find a decent parking space at the mall. Even when I feel overwhelmed with the chores—preparing cards, decorating, engaging in all the tasks unique to this time of year.

Yuletide irony

(OK, here's an irony: During Advent and Christmas, we await and celebrate the birth of a Baby who arrived more than 2,000 years ago. Christians get ready for the arrival of a Savior we've already accepted. Chronologically, this is impossible. But spiritually, it's necessary. The rest of the year beats us down. We're blessed to be reminded of this anticipation. And by anticipating and celebrating Jesus' birth, it becomes Good News for us all over again. It's always fresh, forever vital.)

We hope because we need

I'm not exactly sure why Advent begins with hope. Why not love, joy or peace, the themes we'll mark in the coming three weeks? Maybe it's because hope is the key to unlock access to these other spiritual blessings. Without hope, can we really appropriate love, joy and peace into our lives?

Hope isn't what most people think it is. Too often, we say "hope" when we mean "wish." A wish is a desire, something we want. But hope contains expectation, anticipation, acceptance.

We can live in hope before it is accomplished. We appropriate hope into our lives, acting on it, because we expect it to be true, even before it becomes fact. 

Hope and joy are siblings. They're not simply emotions, but deep and abiding spiritual truths. We joyfully live in hope, even when the facts of our lives mitigate against happiness and wishful thinking. We can be joy-full and hope-filled, even in our darkest hours. Why? Because Jesus did, indeed, come to this earth to redeem it—and us. The present facts of our lives are not all that is to be seen, all that should be expected. Jesus, the Christ, transformed all that.

So, we begin this season with hope. Whether or not the economy rebounds. Whether or not nations rise up against nations. Whether or not the "heathen rage." Whether or not 2011 turns out to be better or worse than 2010. 

Jesus is coming. Live in hope.