Why I'm Glad We Don't Teach Our Kids About Santa

This Christmas morning, I'm thankful. My wife spend her birthday last week in the hospital. She wound up being hospitalized for two additional days, and the very last of our emergency funds were exhausted between that and the lost income for the hospital stay.

Still we are blessed. We live in a nation of abundance, and have so much to be grateful for. We had already purchased Christmas gifts for the family, so we didn't have to worry about there being no Christmas because of the latest developments.

Still, a look across my friends' pages reminds me of what a starkly different life we lead than they do. Not a better one, not a worse one, but a different one. And one for which I am immensely grateful.

Growing up, I was pretty much aware of the nonexistence of Santa Claus by my kindergarten year. As we sat together in class, and told each other what gifts we had, I noticed that socks, secondhand books and toys with most of the parts missing didn't compete with the Evel Knievel stunt bikes, and later, Atari, then Nintendo systems that my friends received. It was clear that Santa had a different sack of toys for those of us who lived in government housing.

I resolved to save my children that embarrassment, because I was pretty sure we would never be wealthy. I am thankful that I've never planned for wealth, because, while we enjoy a life of abundance, it is not one that most people in the US would envy. But we have been blessed in so many ways that never show up on a balance sheet.

We spent about $200 for Christmas. That's it. No, not per person, for all 9 of our family members. Well, that's not quite true; we put in another $65 in stocking stuffers from Dollar Tree. It is the only time of year that we buy candy, and you can get dollar store candy pretty cheap, so we do.

So many pictures and videos, though, of expensive presents and gifts. I don't begrudge those families that; again, they live a different lifestyle than we do, and that's OK. What I don't like about it, though, is that when I go to the Bible and teach my children to be servants of God, to give sacrificially, and then have to explain to them why Santa gave them that $10 magic set despite their abundantly giving hearts, but gave one of their friends an IPad.

I'm not encouraging anyone to give differently; we all have different resources, and different things to give. And certainly we should celebrate our family as we see fit. But if we teach them that these gifts come from "Santa", we are teaching the wrong message; that one's worth rests in their wealth. And that somehow, those kids in the poor families don't measure up, and no matter how sincerely they plead, Santa will not have room on his sled for their gifts.

And if we teach them that Santa is deaf to the pleas of the poor kids, how, then, will they view God?

A Messy Divorce

In this advent season (which I don't really celebrate as such, but understand the desire of the Christian community as a whole to do so), it is wholly fitting that we should see the Syrian refugee crisis emerge. Never has a call been more clear to serve God and testify to His love than when we see the throngs of people attempting to escape oppression and look for hope beyond their borders.

Never has the need for a true evangelist been more obvious.

But a lot has changed within the church. Instead of evoking an image of Mother Theresa embracing the hurting, the needy, feeding the hungry, and clothing the poor, we have Christian leaders promoting the image of a Commando Christ, with the worship of guns rather than God, attacking the people who need Him the most.

That is not the God I understand. And that is not the God I will serve. Yes, I have watched patiently as we have engaged in wars, trusting that our leaders had intelligence that I didn't, and refusing to wage a full scale war on foreign policy right here at home. I believe an opposing voice was needed, but unless I felt the call was clear, was not willing to BE that opposing voice. In the wake of this current crisis, that has changed.

Jesus never promised the way would be easy. Quite the opposite. We revere people like Corrie Ten Boom, whose family suffered greatly in their display of Christian faith in the face of Nazi terror. We champion disciples like Bonhoeffer, who led the Confessing Church in the very midst of that tempest. We extol the Quakers and their involvement in the Underground Railroad. Yet we insist in the face of Islamic extremism that the answer lies in carbines, not in Christ.

How differently would history have been written if Jim Elliott and his crew had pulled out the weapons (which they had) and swept the beaches clear of the attacking Waodani when they died for the Gospel in which they believed.

Understand, I am certainly prone to frustrated outbursts. But understand this is not one of those. In the 27 years since I have been a Christian, I have studied closely the lives of the martyrs, those whose faith weathered in the midst of persecution. And I know from those readings that the path the church leaders take is not always the correct one.

And so, rather than create division within the church, I will respect the leaders within those churches and take my leave. I will not allow the discussion to turn to the genocide, when we were called to REACH the people who hate us, when we are called to LOVE our enemies, even to the point of forfeiting our lives if necessary.

I cannot express, though, how difficult this is. I love the people in these churches, I just cannot agree with them on this extremely fundamental point of doctrine. The mainstream Christian response towards the refugees is wrong. I would bet my very salvation upon it, if it were mine to give. The Jesus who could have called 10,000 angels is certainly capable of defending my family even in the midst of the tempest.

To the Evangelical Church: Where You Are Going, I Cannot Go

I started this blog with the intent of expressing my frustration of being a misfit within the Christian community. This week, it crossed a line.

This is not meant as a judgment on anyone but myself. This is about my personal walk, and if your beliefs are different, I respect that.

But if you are attempting to change my mind, I insist that you use Scripture, and not your personal opinion, to prove me wrong. Anything less is inadequate.

My breaking point is over the Syrian refugees. I have seen so much hate, so much anger towards these people, and blame directed towards the refugees for the actions of ISIS.

At first I shared the concern about the safety of aiding the refugees. But then, on closer examination of Scripture (that will come in just a moment), I considered that my only proper response was towards the refugees. My belief was bolstered when an immigration lawyer discussed the refugee process at length. It is far lengthier and more extensive than most people believe (you can find the details here).

But more to the point, failing to aid the refugees contradicts Scripture, as far as my understanding takes me.

I'll start with Ezekial 16:49: "For this was the sin of your sister Sodom: pride and excess of food, while the poor and needy suffered outside her door". Remember, Sodom was destroyed completely for this sin.

In Matthew 22, Jesus is asked which is the greatest commandment. He replies that there are two: Love the Lord Your God with all your heart, soul and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself. In Luke 10:29, Jesus is asked "who is my neighbor".

He replies with the story of the Good Samaritan, a man who was detested by the Jews, yet who became a comfort to a hurt and lost traveler when the righteous and the religious leaders had passed him by.. That man, Jesus implies, was the one who acted as a neighbor.

And in Matthew 25:31-46, Jesus speaks of the separating of the sheep and the goats. He states "whatever you have done to the least of these, this you have done unto Me." He further states that what you have NOT done to the least of these, this you have done NOT unto him.

And so at times like this we are called not to give in to our fear, but to transcend it. To be a light in the darkness, to be the salt of the earth. Not to cower and revoke the very promise on which our country was founded.

And so I fully take leave of the evangelical church. If the sojourner is not welcome there, neither am I. If the undocumented immigrant cannot find fellowship there, I must find fellowship elsewhere as well. If the church will not be a hospital for sinners, then I must take my leave and find one that will.

This is not a statement I take lightly; it is only after much painful self examination that I have determined it is the only option. I know where I am headed going forward, but will keep that under wraps. But if your church will not be a sanctuary to those in the greatest need, it is not a sanctuary for me or my family.

God bless each and every one of you and have a very merry Christmas!

Agape

I have a confession to make: I'm not doing it right.

Sure, I try. Sure, I do everything I can to ensure that I try to catch every opportunity to minister that comes my way. But on the road from here to there, I've discovered something.

First of all, understand this is about me and my journey. It's not about your journey, and not meant to be a judgment or a condemnation in any sense. If it helps you on your journey, take it, use it. But this is about my journey and my own observations.

I noticed a group of "dirty kids" in the parking lot today. I ambled over to help them because I know that a lot of folks won't. And because I genuinely have come to love the ones I've met, and figure that maybe that dollar I give the ones I come across will be paid forward just enough to scratch the palm of the fellow I met six months ago on the road to Santa Fe. Or the young couple busking on the corner of a dusty street.

And when I'm walking away, I can't help but think of all of the opportunities I've missed. The people who inflicted genuine hurt, genuine pain that I refused to simply pile up at the cross. The fellow who cheated me on the car deal a ways back. The family whose inaction towards their own family member's actions brought about a very dark period I wasn't sure I would quickly escape. Those people.

The people just as deserving, just as in need, just as missing of a vital piece of their lives.

I remember some years back when encountering a child with Down Syndrome. This kid was, as most I've met with Down Syndrome, incredibly loving, but had a serious drool problem. And I have a serious aversion to such things. As he reached his arms around me and I felt the slimey drool on my arms, and on my clothes, I realized that I could not in any way outwardly express this aversion for fear of hurting the feelings of the young man. I returned the embrace, the inner cringe slowly starting to release, as I realized it was for just these  occasions that soap and water were invented.

And when he walked away, I found myself in not so big a rush for soap and water. The kid had taught me a lot.

Agape love, true love, is sometimes dirty, sometimes nasty, sometimes the epitome of what we fear. But it is always right and it is never focused on self.

May I learn to be an agent, not of compassion, but of genuine, heartfelt, agape love. May I get it right.

Should the Poor be Embarrassed for their Poverty?

We had a discussion today in church that turned to poverty and the approaches to it. Someone stated that the poor deserve to be embarrassed for their poverty.

It was all I could do to bite my tongue. But in the context of the situation, it was the only response appropriate at the time. This is not a conversation on which I will sit silent for long, though, and so I am addressing it here.

First of all, we must think of what poverty is, and what it is not. Poverty is caused by a variety of problems. Sometimes it is genuine laziness, but more often things like mental illness and an overwhelming sense of hopelessness lead people to situations where they are in poverty. Neither is a situation where we should feel it appropriate to "embarrass" the person who is caught in poverty.

First, humiliating someone is an ultimate act of condescension. We treat them (and, indeed, many people see them) as being less worthy, or of lower character, than ourselves. There is nothing Christlike in this response, and there is nothing compassionate about it.

We may as well tattoo them or otherwise mark them so that we can spit on them. Suggesting that we should humiliate them shows an ugly side of humanity that we need to be rid of.

Then there is the very real likelihood that if we accompany assistance with humiliation, people who are genuinely needy and deserving of that assistance will refuse it because they do not want to be shamed. But the people who are genuinely mooching won't care. This means we're doing the exact opposite of what common sense dictates: we're ensuring that the people who need the help the most are the least likely to receive it.

So how should we approach it? Well, first, I believe charity should be privately administered, ideally. The church abandoned its role a long time ago, and I don't see high profile religious leaders chomping at the bit to reclaim that role (Pope Francis being an exception). If we can treat every case of poverty individually, we can help identify the problem, and, ideally help create a solution. This means, instead of embarrassing the poor, we are empowering them.

Maybe it's a mental or physical health issue that needs to be treated. Maybe it's addiction. Maybe it's job training, or resources that need to be provided. Maybe (as in the disabled) it's equipment to accommodate their needs. Maybe it is simply a listening ear. A heartfelt approach to poverty will be very hands on. And it will be very ugly from time to time, which is probably why so few are willing to undertake it.

Second, we need to see ourselves as equal to every poor individual. Not greater than, not less than, but equal. As Christians, we worship a Savior who discarded his Godly form to take his place among us. Do we really feel we are deserving of a higher standing?

The solutions to poverty are complex, and we will never find them in our lifetime. But we should never stop trying, and we should never develop our policy around the idea that the poor deserve to be embarrassed or humiliated.

The Conservative Hypocrisy on Life

I have seven kids.

And they all have the same father, and the same mother.

If I were a reality TV star, or if I were a wealthy real estate developer to the wealthy, that would make me an icon. They'd be displaying me as an example of American family values, and talking about the sanctity of life.

But the same people that worship at the shrine of Duggar have some very harsh words for families working on less than a median income. So before I continue I will answer a few questions for you: yes, I know what causes that, no we're not part of the Quiverfull movement, and I don't have a personal opinion on the Duggars.

I would be lying, though, if I said that our church homes didn't influence our choices. We were told how precious life is, and how children are a blessing. We were not told those same churches consider them a middle class blessing, and that poor families were to be shamed.

I love every one of my kids, and while there are things I would do differently, I couldn't imagine a present reality without every one in my life. They all bring unique personalities and perspectives to the table, and while I haven't been blessed with a lot of money, I've certainly been blessed with a lot of love. My children are the reason I even endure a workaday existence.

Yes, it would be nice if I made more money. But, see, I actually have a degree. One I actually was hired to use in the town where I live. The problem is, IT jobs are in very short supply here, and I stuck around after I had left my old job. And thus, the workaday existence.

But where I get extremely frustrated is when I see the same people that feel compelled to openly condemn my family and I claiming to value "life". They celebrate it as a hypothetical, but they're not so friendly with it when it's sitting right in front of them.

Oh, sure, folks have helped us at times...sometimes overwhelmingly so...but always with the disapproving "don't you know where that comes from" stare, and a belittling and condescending attitude.

This has often made me feel that the commitment to life is often conditional. It is cherished when it is convenient.

And it is that inconsistency that makes it harder and harder for me to defend the conservative church.

Exhausted and Empty

DISCLAIMER (As these, sadly, have become necessary these days): Please, before reading, understand what this article is and is not. It is NOT asking for pity, or condemning anyone or any entity. It IS my personal thoughts, my personal journal, in the hopes that someone else can see themselves in them and gain strength through a sense of understanding they are not alone.

Today, I have nothing. I feel spent, I feel drained, and I have no idea how to communicate that. We live in a world where hyperbole is so often the norm that when someone's truly run to the end of the road, there's no way to express that without someone feeling they are saying things that they honestly weren't saying.

I am tired of being the much maligned "liberal" in an area where that is a swear word. I am tired of personal attacks for holding an opinion that doesn't match others. I am tired of unending criticism with absolutely no recognition for the validity of my thoughts and ideas. And I've found it crosses the spectrum; if I challenge any of the ideas of any of my friends, regardless of ideology, it seems that it's open season directed at me.

To some the answer is simple: just shut up. And if it were that easy for me, I would. But I shut up for a lot of years, and I've seen things happen that never should have taken place. I've seen workers mocked and criticized publicly for asking for a fair wage, then mocked and criticized publicly for receiving benefits to fill in the gaps, and finally mocked and criticized publicly for getting tired of the system, taking the ball and going home. We tell them to pull themselves up by the bootstraps, when these fellows don't have any boots.

I can't shut up when I see these things. I can't shut up when I see families agonizing as the roof over their head drains down on them with no long term answer to the problem. Or when health issues are too long neglected because the social stigma of being on Medicaid is so strong that you don't dare to walk into the small community hospital where HIPAA is nonexistent. God forbid you're on the poorer side of things in America; if you are, in many folks' eyes, you are simply a parasite.

I am tired of hoping when hope is futile; tired of investing in a future that never will come. Tired of the monthly reminder of a future I naively invested in believing this was that critical last ingredient to put me over the top, only to see less qualified candidates selected to do the job I worked for because they either don't like my politics, or they don't like the pay scale that should accompany those qualifications.

I'm tired of spending my life on a treadmill with no clear path to escape.

And if that offends you, then maybe we need to go different directions. Because God knows I've been criticized enough already!