The Salad Days

Ahh....new phrases. I read that Duluth, Minn had its first brown Christmas since records began being kept in 1875. We have trace snow on the ground today. Enough to remind us that it is winter, but hardly the stuff of carols. No matter...this day is still sanctified by its holy background and meaning.

I doubt anything new can be said by one such as myself, but this season always brings contemplation. Yesterday I was awfully tired from work, and was a zombie practically the rest of the day. This led to a somewhat anticlimatic evening, as I dozed on the couch while my wife made a crockpot breakfast dish. However, today is a new day though. The sky is blue, it is a cozy 25 degrees, and once again, Christ has come. Though we know all too well the passion, suffering and rejection this tiny baby would one day endure, his life in its totality gives us reason to celebrate his coming with great joy. I care not that he probably was not born in December...I care not that Christmas is a hijacked pagan holiday. Let us reflect upon Christ's coming...and let us do at at the season that our countless Christian parents have so done. Must we arrogantly judge tradition, when the possibilities of this kind of celebration can bring such health to the soul?

Ironically, so many do not celebrate due to scripture's lack of explicit instruction to do so. I will admit that to be the case. But the nativity of Jesus is recounted vividly, and just as the early church met on Sunday to commemorate the resurrection (though that is nowhere commanded), this day I rejoice in my Savior's coming. He is all to me, this baby that I could have held in my arms, who extends salvation to me, and to all mankind.

Merry Christmas.