black friday

The day after Thanksgiving, the holiday season that has been so impatiently waiting in the wings takes a sharp turn toward Countdown Christmas and begins barreling down the home stretch, full speed ahead. We all know the decorations have already sneaked out of their hiding places, and many gifts have already been wrapped, but the full-on Christmas extravaganza needs no more than to be given an inch after the bird is cooked and eaten before taking well over a mile of the ever-increasing consumerism wrapped in all the glitz and glam that 'tis the season.

Don't get me wrong. I love the holidays. I love the spirit of giving and the extra quality time with family. I love classic Christmas movies, and Christmas music old and new. I love the nostalgia and the "magical" feeling in the air and all the traditions and activities. But, sadly, it's becoming more and more of a bittersweet time for me. I hate that Christmas has become a cultural holiday instead of the religious holiday it is meant to be. As fondly as I remember wonderful Christmas mornings throughout my entire childhood and lifetime, I hate that the central character is Santa Claus, not Jesus. I hate that the "reason for the season" reminders come only in a few boxed holiday cards and for a couple hours at church on Christmas Eve. I am definitely excited to decorate a tree and play Santa Claus with my nephew for the first time and do all the other cultural, non-religious traditions that are a part of the season and not necessarily bad in any way. I just really hope that we can also stand up for and prioritize emphasizing the glory of the first Christmas. When I stop and think that we celebrate our Savior's birthday with such fearful political correctness that not only allows but encourages the cultural holiday to win over the religious meaning, it kind of makes me sick. We (and I am just as guilty) focus on spending money and find ourselves actually looking forward to the new year when all the stress and pressure is simply over and done. We celebrate Christmas by reinforcing credit-card debt instead of accruing the joy and peace and gratitude He so freely offers to give.

I heard someone say on the radio this morning (K-Love) that the more we act as silent witnesses, the closer Christianity will come to disappearing altogether in America. Why should we be afraid to rejoice in the One whose existence gives us the ultimate reason to celebrate? I think it's an important question, and one that also asks us to define: 1) What's at stake, 2) What we truly believe, and 3) If the consequences outweigh the risk.

I definitely don't want to come across as though I think there is nothing good to be found within the Christmas season or that we are 100 percent all about everything else besides Jesus and family and charity this time of year. I just also strongly believe that we, as a culture, are sliding more and more in the opposite direction of what Christmas is really about—and if nothing is done about it, we will lose the perspective and purpose of what the holiday is meant to be. It's not about fitting the mold of the stereotypical evangelical, and it's certainly not about forcing anything down anyone's throat (remember, Jesus said to make "disciples"—not converts). It's simply about recognizing why there is a Christmas in the first place. It's about to "...in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted..." (Philippians 1:20).

This morning, via e-mail, I was also forwarded a discourse written by Ben Stein, the popular Jewish comedian, which I thought was very encouraging. I love the fact that a Jewish man wrote this. I honestly don't think it would have the same effect if written by a Christian—in fact, perhaps the opposite. I thought I would share it here to hopefully encourage more thought and more action. Merry Christmas season to all, and to all the hope of glory!

My confession:

I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish.  And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejeweled trees, Christmas trees.  I don't feel threatened.  I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are, Christmas trees.

It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, 'Merry Christmas' to me.  I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto.  In fact, I kind of like it.  It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu.  If people want a creche, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.

I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians.  I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period.  I have no idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist country.  I can't find it in the Constitution, and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.

Or maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God as we understand Him?  I guess that's a sign that I'm getting old, too.  But there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from and where the America we knew went to.

In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different:  This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her "How could God let something like this happen?" (regarding Hurricane Katrina).  Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response.  She said, "I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives.  And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out.  How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?"

In light of recent events... terrorists attack, school shootings, etc.  I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.  Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school.  The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself.  And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide).  We said an expert should know what he's talking about.  And we said OK.

Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out.  I think it has a great deal to do with 'WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.'

Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell.  Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.  Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.  Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.

Are you laughing yet?

Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it.

Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.

... If you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in. 
 
My best regards, honestly and respectfully,
Ben Stein