Square Peg in a Round Hole - geograph.org.uk -...

Square Peg in a Round Hole

I just read this cool article entitled Our Changing Spiritual Relationship Status. It brings up a point that I make in my book about Christians being confused about how they fit with God. We’re often told that, by default, we humans can’t relate to the divine at all. I especially love this quote from the article:

Having said all this, I believe there was another reason for the incarnation. As much as it helps us relate to God, something even more profound took place. In Jesus we find God eating food and sleeping on the ground. God entered through a tunnel and left through a tomb—same as us. God sat at the barren table of poverty and drank the cup of our suffering. He didn’t just come so we could relate better to Him, He came so He could relate to us.”

My thought is that if we have so much trouble relating to the divine, how will we ever develop a deep, abiding love instead of a shallow or mandatory love, not to mention imitate it? What are your thoughts?

English: An artificial Christmas tree.

Image via Wikipedia

I stumbled upon this interesting article in Relevant magazine about Christian Christmas traditions that aren’t originally Christian. It sort of follows up my last post. Apparently, we’ve borrowed these pre-Christ traditions and incorporated them into our celebration of Christ.

1. The Christmas tree

2. Mistletoe

3. Gift giving

4. Dec. 25th

5. Redemption

I like the way the article finishes:

We call it Christmas and have named it after our Savior, but let’s not be so arrogant as to suggest the holiday is exclusively ours. A better perspective is to admit we have co-opted the season, along with many of its traditions, for the purpose of pointing toward Bethlehem.

Christmas is the story of the Incarnation—of the insertion of Christ into the dust of humanity, of the infusion of grace into something worldly and pagan. In the process, mankind was redeemed. If so, then our theft of these solstice traditions is no crime against history. Instead, it’s yet another picture—a beautiful, generous, peaceful, evergreen metaphor—of redemption.”