Excellent

When at the age of 16 I got my GCSE results, my Head Teacher Mrs Darnell approached me to offer me her sincere commiserations. I had been awarded 9 A-stars, 1 A, and a B – the latter in music. She thought I’d be devastated about the B in music. I wasn’t. Partly because I got nine A-stars (and the A was in textiles anyway), and partly because my older brother had got a B in music too.

I’m not a competitive person – which makes me quite irritating to play games with I think – but how was I supposed to know I had a problem with trying to be the best I can possibly be? I suppose it could be called perfectionism, but in many areas I’m not a perfectionist – take housework, physical exercise and doing my daughter’s hair as examples. But I suppose I grew up finding my identity largely in success. And you’re only ever as good as your last exam result, so you keep on striving, always skating on thin ice.

Why am I telling you this? Well, what happens when you’re such a high achiever that you get commiserated for your one lowly B grade? You grow into an adult who not only does NOT want to fail, but who wants to be excellent.

But just as I was becoming an adult, I became a Christian. Brilliant! But oh no! What do you do when you’re used to trying to reach the highest standard, and then you find out you can’t meet it, ever, because you’re hopelessly sinful and in need of salvation? Of course I know that wonderfully I’m saved by grace alone, through faith, which is itself a gift from God (re: Ephesians 2v8 (la de da**)). Hooray and phew! However, we are also told to repent of our sin and live holy lives.  Yikes.  Since this high-achievement has been the habit of a lifetime, it’s taking years to break.

In trying to be good on my own merits, I am “failing” at being a Christian, since the whole thing rests on me trusting that I’m saved by grace alone through faith. So then I feel like a terrible failure, and endeavor to try harder at being better at trusting in grace. But no wait that’s not right either, because it’s not about trying harder.   What a failure I am at this.

Do you see where this spiral is heading? Only downwards.

Perhaps you can’t relate to this at all (in which case perhaps we could meet for a coffee so you can help me out?), but I really struggle to hold in one hand the seriousness of sin and the demand to be holy, whilst in the other hand accepting that I will never live up to the mark, and that I shouldn’t beat myself up about it.

Then I became a mum. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Far from achieving excellence in this field, I found myself struggling to even function. Feeding my baby and cleaning her up and dressing her and getting her off to sleep were tasks too difficult for me. And even when I cracked something, a new challenge was (and still is) just round the corner. There are no measurable results – no exams; no annual appraisals; most of the time there is nobody even there to say ‘that was impressive.’ For someone who tends to like achieving success, motherhood is a real, real, REAL furnace. How the Lord is burning off that dross to refine me into someone who really does live by grace. Ouch.

So, what to do?  I think the way to break this cycle has rather a lot to do with the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. It’s not that the Lord is frowning at me as I mess up again, but rather he is smiling at me as I live in Christ. My pastor told me the other day that I should ‘live much in the smiles of God.’  What a revolution that will be for me.

I read this today:

23 The words ‘it was credited to him’ were written not for [Abraham] alone, 24 but also for us, to whom God will credit righteousness – for us who believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead. 25 He was delivered over to death for our sins and was raised to life for our justification. (Romans 4).

Spiritually, my GCSE results are all U (Ungraded). I’m bankrupt. But in Christ, I’m justified – straight A-stars, without even a pesky B. So I think one way to break this bad habit is to focus on Jesus everyday, instead of focusing on myself.  Of course, at the root of this ‘excellence’ I’m aiming for is the “mother of all sins” – pride. I want to be brilliant, and for people to tell me I am (how embarrassing). But if I’m focusing on Jesus instead of on Catherine, then I’ll be humbled, and at the same time given liberating confidence as I approach God my Father. He is smiling at me (really!) as I fold the washing, or clean up sick, or run for the bus.

There’ll always be someone better than me at whatever I do – that’s no way to find my identity. How amazing that I can find my identity in the Perfect One instead:

Learn much of the Lord Jesus. For every look at yourself, take ten looks at Christ. He is altogether lovely. Such infinite majesty, and yet such meekness and grace, and all for sinners, even the chief!
Live much in the smiles of God. Bask in His beams. Feel His all-seeing eye settled on you in love, and repose in His almighty arms. (Robert Murray M’Cheyne)

As always, please click on the speech bubble in the top right-hand corner if you’d like to leave a comment.

*For those reading this from outside the UK, GCSEs are big exams you do at the end of ‘High School’ in England and Wales. At school we are usually taught that the rest of our lives depend upon how well we do in them.

**Seeds Family Worship have a memory verse song using Ephesians 2v8 called Grace (la de da) – please visit their website to hear it.

Not Ashamed

The Brookses having fun
The Brookses having fun

My children were off school last week – maybe yours were too.  When your children are off, people always ask what you’ve been up to or what your plans are.  I do it too – it’s just a way of making conversation.  But sometimes it can induce panic.  What if I don’t have any plans?  Does that make me a bad mother?  Argh!  I must go home right now and Google ‘(Free) things to do in half term’!

We actually did go away this time, which is partly why I haven’t written in a while.  But usually in these sorts of ‘what are your plans?’ conversations I have very little to offer.  I’m definitely not the person to ask if you’re looking for something fun to do with your children.  There are a few reasons for this.  We are limited, for example, by my own capacity to take three small children anywhere exciting – if it takes me two days to recover, it may not be worthwhile!

We’re also limited by finances.  We’d have more money for after-school clubs and day trips if we’d made different choices.  This is true for everyone, of course.  We all make choices.  Sometimes we have a bit more money than at other times, but I’m pretty sure we’d have a lot more money if we weren’t Christians.  We probably would have very highly paid jobs and wouldn’t have chosen to live on possibly the most expensive council estate in the country (I have no proof of that but it must be close).  And that’s all fine when it’s just the two of us missing out on fancy shoes and expensive holidays, but when it affects our children, the guilt can easily set in.  I don’t know if you ever feel that, for one reason or another, your children are missing out?

I was listening to a talk on Romans Chapter 1 the other day.  The speaker said that he’d been reading an inspirational autobiography by someone who’d travelled all over the world, helping developing countries to improve, changing many lives for the better.  The guy giving the talk said, “When I read this book, I found myself thinking, ‘why am I spending my life preaching the gospel?'”

I’m not a preacher, but I am spending my life preaching that same gospel to my kids.  We’ve made that the priority over fun experiences and enrichment activities.  No, we’ve never been to Peppa Pig world, but we have done a Bible overview.  To the other mums at the Toddler Group, that choice just doesn’t make any sense.  (Of course, you can do both!  But there are only so many hours in a childhood).  When my children are old enough for a Christian summer camp, we will save up to send them even if it means we can’t go on a family holiday abroad.  Some what call that foolish, illogical or downright immoral.  We call it Kingdom living.

I’ve always loved the way Paul says in Romans 1 v16, “I am not ashamed of the gospel…” He doesn’t say “I’m proud of the gospel,” and to me that implies that there is a temptation to be ashamed of it.  I can say to myself as I walk home from the Stay-and-Play, “I’m NOT ashamed of the gospel, even though it sounds pathetic that we will spend Easter Weekend doing Bible crafts and not going to Disneyland Paris.”

But why prioritise the gospel?  Why not be ashamed?  “… because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes.”  If you can manage to disciple your children AND do fabulous family fun as well, then I salute you.  (Of course, even the Brookses have fun sometimes!)  If you did pretty much nothing at all last week with your kids other than teach them the Bible so that they might have this salvation for themselves, then well done, good and faithful servant.  What a blessing you are to your children.

In five hundred years’ time, by God’s grace, my children won’t be asking me why we never went to Harry Potter World.  They’ll be too busy dancing and praising the Lamb in the New Creation.  Nothing is more enriching than that.

As always, if you’d like to leave a comment please click on the speech bubble in the top right hand corner of this post.

Two Churches

Two churches

There are two churches.

Church #1 is a diverse group of people: a mixture of failures, misfits and social outcasts.    It’s a place of confusion, of grief, and mess. Everywhere you look there are scars – some self-inflicted, some the result of family background, ill-chosen relationships or just random bad luck. This is a church of the insecure, slow to learn, forgetful and needy. It’s a place where people with very little in common get together and participate in what many wouldn’t even recognise as a church service.

Care to join me?

Or, alternatively (phew), can I suggest Church # 2?

Church #2 is my favourite place in the whole world. Wherever they are, that’s where I want to be. I look around me and I see my family, all filled with joy because they know their God loves them.   They’re not all like me, in fact none of them are much like me at all. Some are rich; others poor; there’s the old and the young; there’s the logical thinkers and the creative artists and everything in between. But we are united by our Lord Jesus, so being from different continents and classes makes little difference to us. They love me and they show it. When I ask for a favour we all know it’s not really a favour, because when family is family you just share each other’s stuff. We are real. We laugh together; we cry together. We’ve got history, and we’ve got a future. Our future will go on and on forever. You should meet them, seriously. You’d feel so welcome there.

So… are you coming?

I wonder which church you recognise. I wonder which church you want to be a part of.

Well of course, I’m a part of both. They’re both my church. One overlays the other. We are broken, we’ve been fixed and we’re being fixed. And one day, wow will we be gloriously fixed. We’re so needy, and yet all of our needs are being satisfied by one beautiful Saviour. And we couldn’t be rescued if we weren’t being honest about needing it.   As Jesus said ‘It’s not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.’ Mark 2:17. So we keep gathering and learning and praying and praising and thanking and listening and weeping and repenting and sharing the burdens and inviting others to come and do the same.

And I suppose my little family unit of five (the hubby; the kids) is a mini version of that big church family. I don’t hope for brokenness or failure or mess, but when it comes I need to know that we’re not actually meant to have it all figured out yet. We are the sick, the sinners, the tax collectors. And the Lord is changing us day by day.

When [Christ] shall come with trumpet sound
Oh may [we] then in him be found
In Him, [our] righteousness, alone
Faultless, stand before the throne.

(My Hope is Built on Nothing Less, Edward Mote)

Book Review – Everything a Child Should Know About God

God book2

I’ve recommended a children’s book for you over at Good Reads if you’d like to take a look.  Here is a picture of it on my kitchen windowsill, next to the porridge oats.  Incidentally, my sister-in-law believes that decanting your cereal into jars is the litmus test of being a super-organised mum.  However, in my case it’s the sign of not having enough cupboard space for cereal boxes.  But I digress.  Hope you find the book review helpful!

Learning to Wait

I want you2

 

Have you ever left your child somewhere? I expect so.

I don’t mean in a Home Alone way (although is it just me or can you see how that easily happens?); no, I mean have you left them with a relative, or at nursery, school, crèche that sort of thing? It can be hard the first few times (or more), especially if they run after you with tears streaming down their cheeks. But then they learn an important lesson – that mummy does come back later. My youngest recently learnt this lesson, and now I can leave him in a crèche once a week without any tears. I guess that’s an important life skill for a child, because most children do need to be able to cope when mum or dad aren’t there.

And so they learn to wait. I don’t mean to sit with their coats on for an hour, longing for me to return (which I think my daughter did for a while when she first started nursery), but to get on with their ‘work’ (play), knowing that I’ll come back for them. They can feel secure where they are, because they know it’s not forever. Sometimes my daughter writes me notes (like the one shown above), saying “Mummy I really want you right now,” when something has upset her at school. I hate finding them! But she’s usually over it by the time she sees me, and I hope that when she’s upset, it’s a comfort to know I will come back at the usual time.

I’ve written before about learning lessons from my children (Learning to say ‘Thank You’), and I’ve been thinking lately that they can also teach me how to wait.

My middle child, Ezra, has latched onto one of God’s promises in particular – the promise that Jesus will come back and get us. If you’re a Colin Buchanan fan, you’ll know these verses well:

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” John 14:1-4.

Jesus promises his followers that he has gone to prepare a place for us, and he will come back one day and take us there. My son has accepted this seemingly without a problem. ‘Oh, he’s coming back to get us’ he nonchalantly reminded me one day in the car. And I realised then, that I’m not as reassured by this promise as my 3-year-old son is. Perhaps this is because he is used to waiting for someone to come back and get him. And perhaps because, being a child, he has a child-like trust in God’s promises that I lack.

And what difference does that make?

If I believe Jesus is coming back to get me, surely I will have greater peace; joy; perseverance; a sense of urgency in preaching the gospel; motivation to be holy.

And when things are really tough, and not just when I’m tired or lonely or discouraged, but when I’m faced with heartbreaking loss or gut-wrenching pain or long-term frustration, I will pray ‘Come, Lord Jesus,’ rather than growing resentful and forgetting that God can see the bigger picture.

And of course this is a flawed illustration, because wonderfully we do have Jesus with us by his Spirit every day. I’m not with my children in spirit when they’re at school, no matter how much I think about them. But the Counsellor, the one who comes alongside us, is doing just that every day:

And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever – the Spirit of truth. John 14:16-17

One of the ways the Spirit helps us is by reminding us of the promise that Jesus will come back soon, and then he will bring us into his perfect Kingdom. Then we will have the answers to all of our questions, and we probably won’t even want to ask them anymore.

Last week I heard a talk on these verses, and it reminded me that I need to be more like my boy Ezra, trusting that Jesus is coming back to get us:

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time.  1 Peter 1:3-5

Jesus, I really want you right now.

No Chance

Not my sofa, hence no stains.
Not my sofa, hence no stains.

Happy New Year from the Brookses!

We at our church kicked off the year with a sermon on the sovereignty of God.
It was one of those talks you need to hear about once a week for the rest of your life. I know God is in charge – in fact I’d just been thanking him for that earlier in the day – but then again, I forget. I know he’s in charge of some things, especially important things. But is he in charge of little details in my day? And is he in charge of random events and so-called chance encounters and long days of watching the clock and then wondering where the time went?
Yes, he’s in charge of that too.

The lot is cast into the lap,
but its every decision is from the Lord. Proverbs 16:33.

When the day stretches out ahead of me and there’s no structure to pin it to, I feel like I’m floating along and not making any mark whatsoever. I could roll a dice and let it decide what I should do today – it’s totally unnerving. When I worked as a teacher, I would get home at the end of the day and feel I’d achieved something. It wasn’t always particularly true, but the fact I’d ‘been to work’ was usually enough. But being at home with little ones isn’t like that, and it’s quite an adjustment! Four years on, I’m still coming to terms with it.

Sometimes, much of what we do seems a bit pointless (if not counterproductive). Examples of things mums or dads end up doing which don’t always seem to have much of a noble purpose:

  • You decide to go to the playground to cheer everyone up a bit, but then one child injurs herself and another wets himself and of course you forgot to bring spare trousers and snacks.
  • You watch your toddler go up and down the stairs one hundred and seventeen times.
  • You mop the hall floor, but nobody will ever know because by 6pm it will look exactly the same as it did before.
  • You go to that toddler group but nobody talks to you and your child doesn’t want to play.
  • You spend an hour cooking something tasty and nutritious for your baby, who promptly throws it on the floor and wails until you fill him with rice cakes.
  • You’ve spent months developing a friendship with the mum who didn’t mention she is moving to Devon tomorrow.
  • You take your toddlers to see a dinosaur exhibition, and they have nightmares for the next three months.

You might read this and think, “Of course those are great things to do! Your child is developing! You’re showing them you love them!” etc. However, is it just me or at the time does it not really feel like that most days?

Sometimes things seem to fall into place – I bump into people I’ve been wanting to see, or my child really grasps something I’ve been teaching him, or my husband actually says, ‘the flat looks lovely’ (it’s not his fault – it usually doesn’t). And then I can believe that God is sovereignly working for my good. But what I need to remember is that he’s in charge of the things that seem pointless, which of course means that they’re not pointless at all, because in all things God works for the good of those who love him (Romans 8:28). If you believe and trust in the Lord Jesus, then each day God is making you more like Christ, because that’s what you were made for.

So if you’re looking at January and thinking – “I have no plans, just the same old same old. School run. Change nappies. Try to make friends at the park. Treat myself to a coffee? Try to read that book. Go to the library if I can face it…” Then that’s OK, because, wonderfully,  God’s 2015 calendar is full of plans for you:

… all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be. Ps 139:16

Live this Christmas

"I like your Christmas shoes" my 3 yr old friend told me.  I didn't admit I've been wearing them all year.
“I like your Christmas shoes” my 3 yr old friend told me. I didn’t admit I’ve been wearing them all year.

You’re busy and I’m busy so let’s keep this brief. The older my children have become, the more my Christmas has turned into a stereotype. Here I am, rushing from Nativity Play to Candlelit Carol service, waking in the night and pondering recipe ideas, and wondering where to hide yet another bag of Christmas prezzies.

This week:
– I decided to try making canapés for the first time – ha ha! I’m neither a 70’s housewife nor a wedding caterer, but I thought it would be fun. It was.
– I also decided to make Christmas cookies for my hairdresser and his assistant, since a) their mums are in far away countries and b) I thought it might cut through some of the intimidation I feel every time I go in. It did.
– Since it was my birthday, I also volunteered to make a giant, Christmassy birthday cake for our church’s Christmas party. Yum.

I decided to do all of these things in between Christmas fetes and Christmas parties and last minute shopping. And that’s OK. I had cheerful and loving motives. – but not entirely.

I had half an hour to myself last Sunday during a Nativity rehearsal, so I settled down in a nearby café with my Tim Keller book, King’s Cross. I’m up to the bit where he writes about humans deep down feeling inconsequential (or ‘unclean’), and all the ways they try to make up for that. There I was, innocently reading about how that affects Christian ministers, and I read something which unexpectedly had me weeping into my overpriced porridge:
You had assumed, ‘If people like me and say, ‘Oh, how much you help me,’ then God will like me and I will like myself, and then that sense of inconsequentiality… of uncleanness, will go away.’ But it doesn’t… I was reading Romans 1:17 in the following way “He who through faith is righteous shall live,” and I almost heard a voice saying, “Yes, and he who through preaching is righteous shall die every Sunday.”

Why did this affect me so much? Perhaps my man Timothy had put his finger on something. Or rather God was putting his finger on something. Maybe what I needed to hear was this:

“She who through baking and cooking and decorating the living room is righteous shall die every Christmas.”

On some level, no matter how many times I hear that my identity, my worth and my acceptable-ness are wonderfully found in Christ, I still want to prove myself. And Christmas is the season to prove yourself, isn’t it? I’m doing the Christmas dinner this year for the first time ever, and that’s an opportunity to bless my family. It’s also an opportunity to strive for airbrushed perfection of the supermarket magazines. But Eve Pollard made a good point in Good Housekeeping’s Christmas issue this year in her column about banning technology on Christmas day: ‘Professional food photographers spend hours making Christmas dinner look like something in an M&S advert. I don’t need some amateur Twitter-snapper broadcasting unappetizing snaps of my offerings to the world!’ (December 2014 issue, p. 61)

When I see Charlize Theron, Natalie Portman and the like on the side of a bus stop, I know that they’re airbrushed, crimped and possibly starved to ‘perfection’, and so it would be foolish and futile to aim to look anything like them. So why do I think my canapés are any different? Nigella’s Christmas book (where I find all, yes all of my Christmas recipes) is a useful tool, but I needn’t pretend I can make something that looks like her pictures. And that’s OK, because this Christmas I don’t have to prove myself. I don’t have to prove myself as a wife, mother, friend, sister or domestic goddess. I can’t make myself acceptable by baking or cooking or decorating the tree (we don’t actually have a tree). And I don’t need to.

So I hope you enjoy your Christmas, and most of all I hope you’ll be able to rejoice that Christ has made you clean; he’s made you acceptable; he’s given you value beyond your wildest dreams. Don’t measure yourself according to your own or others’ expectations. Measure yourself by this:

‘God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.’ 2 Corinthians 5:21.

 

Joy

christmas window

A lovely Kurdish friend of mine asked me a question today about our children’s Christmas performance, ‘Is it about Christmas, or is it religious?’

I think she put her finger on something, don’t you? Christmas has become (posh word alert) dichotomised: there’s the secular wintertide festival, and the ‘religious’ Christian celebration of Jesus’ birth. Sometimes there’s some overlap, although to be honest sometimes I’d rather keep them separate. Do we want reindeer in the stable, or shepherds in Santa’s grotto? Doesn’t that just confuse everyone?

Lots of Christians get upset about this. And actually, a lot of ‘church-goers’ or morally upstanding citizens (and apparently The Daily Mail) get upset about it too. And I agree with some of what they say. Santa does rob Jesus of his glory at Christmas, and that is bad. But when my friends who aren’t Christians don’t celebrate Jesus at Christmas, that doesn’t actually surprise me.

They’re not Christians, so why would they?

Would it be better if they pretended to celebrate Christ? No I think that’s called hypocrisy. And the last thing I want is for them to think that by going to a Nativity play once a year, they’re somehow ‘in the club.’

Being a Christian means a lot more than knowing the words to ‘Hark the Herald’ (my personal fave). And we all know that the rest of the year, don’t we? So why at Christmas to people get so upset that the crowds are queuing in Toys R Us instead of All Souls Langham Place (that’s a church, by the way)? It’s sad, absolutely, but only because I know that Jesus is better than a toy penguin (please see last week’s musings).

On 1st December, the picture in my 3-year-old son’s advent calendar was an angel.
Mummy: ‘Yes because angels visited the shepherds, and they said… (trying to remember)’
Ezra: ‘Glory to God in the highest.’

I’m not telling you that so that you think I’m marvellous, but rather to point you in the directon of Seeds Family Worship, who I have to thank for Ezra’s knowledge of Luke Chapter 2. Seeds Family Worship are the bee’s knees – they make memory verse songs that grown-ups (yes!) and children enjoy. After you’ve read this, go to this page and listen to ‘Joy’, a beautiful Christmas song. Here are the words:

And there were shepherds living out in the fields near by, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people.  Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.’
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
‘Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace to those on whom his favour rests.’  (Luke 2, 8-14 – underlining mine)

And that’s the truly wonderful thing about the birth of Jesus – it’s good news of great joy.

I’ve got another Tim Keller quote for you. Reflecting on Jesus’ words in Mark 1, ‘Repent and believe the good news!’ he writes:

‘Right there you can see the difference between Christianity and all other religions, including no religion. The essence of other religions is advice; Christianity is essentially news… the gospel says, “This is what has been done in history. This is how Jesus lived and died to earn the way to God for you.” Christianity is completely different. It’s joyful news.’ (King’s Cross, p. 15.)

So at Christmas, are we good news in our communities? Do people see us rejoicing, and trying to tell them the good news of great joy that is for all people: rich clever people, poor smelly people (no offence, I was thinking of the shepherds), inn keepers and single mums and drunkards? Or do they just hear us complaining that the shops shouldn’t be open on Boxing Day?

Let’s show them that Christianity is different. It’s not advice; it’s good news for all people. Let’s stop judging and ranting and instead celebrate, and generously share this fantastic news with our friends and family.

Full of Grace and Truth

Christmas sloane sq

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. John 1:14

Happy Advent everybody! How are you feeling?

The Christmas lights are twinkling, the Christmas markets are a-bustling, and the folks are queuing at Santa’s sparkly grotto. The festive season is in full flow. So, how’s it going in your house?

Do you ever feel like your children, the Christian ones, are “missing out” (again) at Christmas? Maybe not. But while my children’s friends are sitting on Santa’s lap for a photo, or getting queasy on advent chocolate before breakfast, my children are, well not doing that. On Christmas day, when other children are out riding their new bikes in the park and again, eating a lot of chocolate, my children will be sitting in church, possibly being shushed. Christmas has become so secular that, like Halloween, I sometimes feel like we’re not really joining in with it.

So I am taking my stand against this! We will celebrate Christmas, and we will do so in a spectacular way. Not just because I love tradition, and decorations, and the smell of something cinnamon-y baking (which I do, I do love those things!), but because (excuse me while I state the obvious) we have more reason to celebrate than anybody else this Christmas.

Last week we were looking in our Bible study group at 2 Samuel 9. Not the obvious passage to write about during a Christmas blog post but stick with me! David, King of Israel, summons the grandson of the previous king, and blesses him. He does it because he’d made a promise to a friend. He tells this grandson, who is called Mephibosheth, that he’ll protect him, restore his land to him, and he will treat him like a son.

What I was massively encouraged by is this: we have a King who is better than David, who takes us, rebellious as we are, and promises to protect us and provide for us forever. And God the Father adopts us as his children, to live with him in his house forever. Such mercy and surprising generosity! This is the God we celebrate, not just at Christmas but all year round. Christmas is just another chance to focus on one amazing part of the big rescue story. So let’s get our children excited about that.

Two years ago I was in a shop and my daughter took her shoes off. As I was asking her to put them back on, the assistant said ‘You’d better put them on, Santa’s coming soon.’ Miriam looked at her as if she’d just switched to speaking Swahili. What on earth could putting shoes on have to do with Santa? But I know it’s common for parents to use Santa as a reason to behave well and do as you’re told. Here are the two reasons why I don’t do that (sorry if this sounds harsh, I’m trying to be succinct and also I do have Santa issues; they’re not aimed at you):

  1. God is gracious. He does not treat us as our sins deserve. As Mephibosheth said to David, ‘Who am I, that you would notice a dead dog like me?’ You may not think of yourself as a dead dog, but dear Mephibosheth was right in thinking he had done nothing to deserve honour from the King. Similarly, we do not deserve honour, and yet the Lord our King showers us with gifts. Whether I’ve been naughty or nice (and of course I’ve been naughty), my Heavenly Father accepts me as his own and lavishes me with spiritual blessings.
  2. God is truthful. Of all the children who get told ‘You’d better be good or no presents,’ let’s face it, most of them end up with presents on Christmas day, either way. They’ve all been a mixture of naughty and nice, and (setting aside a few extreme cases) they all receive their gifts regardless. So I won’t use empty threats with my children because another word for an empty threat is a lie. It’s counterproductive (the kids do catch on sooner or later) and it’s not Kingdom-living. Just as David honoured his promise to Mephibosheth’s father Jonathan, so our Lord always keeps his promises. So I will try my hardest to keep mine.

This Christmas, rather than us all feeling that my children are somehow missing out, I want to show them how truly wonderful their God is. He always keeps his promises, and not just a little bit. He lavishes us with abundant grace, and brings about a rescue plan that we could never have dreamed of. He told his people it would happen, but who could have imagined how beautiful it would be when it did?

That’s why I recommend the Bible Overview Advent Calendar, which I can send you if you’d like it. There are loads of other brilliant resources out there too – let’s use them. In his book ‘Counterfeit Gods’, Tim Keller writes that idols cannot simply be removed, they must be displaced. Similarly, we can’t remove Santa from the Christmas scene our children are living in, but we can displace him with Jesus. Let’s elbow that big guy off his sleigh and plonk baby Jesus down in his place! Why would our children be interested in a grotto of sugar-highs when they know they can come to a 1st Century stable and find living water to satisfy their souls?

Can I encourage you to prioritise having a Biblical Christmas, even if it means compromising on gingerbread houses and shopping lists? I’m going to try. Join me!

After writing this, I watched this video which beautifully illustrates what I’m trying to say.

The ‘related links’ bit at the bottom is automatically generated, so here are some posts that actually link to this topic ANYTHING but that; Look down to the God in the Manger