Let me see if I have this straight. God’s Son enters this world as a baby, the ultimate in a gift to mankind. We select a date of December 25 (though let’s not get into that), and we commemorate this gift of God. We celebrate each year by singing songs, giving gifts, and keeping in mind ‘the reason for the season’.
Whether through history before or after Christ, we have added details of some jelly-belly bringing gifts, drinking eggnog, and having office parties until the New Year. Added to this in recent years, we have Christmas decorations sold before Halloween is here and, despite any economy, lists as long as our legs and retailers willing to sell us the items on that list. Don’t even get me started about the 362 different versions of The 12 Days of Christmas song.
Is it just me? Or does just about everything around us scream for attention to be taken from Jesus?
I remember as a child in my family that birthdays were important. You may be neglected the rest of the time, but on your birthday, you were the star. You got to choose where the party was at and what was for dinner. You could (almost) do no wrong. Today was the day your siblings got ignored and you reigned supreme. I loved my birthday. I still do. The only difference now is that I just want a nap. (Can I please not go anywhere special for my birthday?)
Here's my point; if a birthday is about the person being born, how did we make Christmas about us? It's Jesus' birthday, for crying out loud. It should be about Him. I, for one, am going to make it about Him. Will you join me?
Whether through history before or after Christ, we have added details of some jelly-belly bringing gifts, drinking eggnog, and having office parties until the New Year. Added to this in recent years, we have Christmas decorations sold before Halloween is here and, despite any economy, lists as long as our legs and retailers willing to sell us the items on that list. Don’t even get me started about the 362 different versions of The 12 Days of Christmas song.
Is it just me? Or does just about everything around us scream for attention to be taken from Jesus?
I remember as a child in my family that birthdays were important. You may be neglected the rest of the time, but on your birthday, you were the star. You got to choose where the party was at and what was for dinner. You could (almost) do no wrong. Today was the day your siblings got ignored and you reigned supreme. I loved my birthday. I still do. The only difference now is that I just want a nap. (Can I please not go anywhere special for my birthday?)
Here's my point; if a birthday is about the person being born, how did we make Christmas about us? It's Jesus' birthday, for crying out loud. It should be about Him. I, for one, am going to make it about Him. Will you join me?
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