Month: December 2025

Two Simple Questions: A New Year’s Eve Reflection

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

“Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own…forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:12-14

New Year’s Eve places us on a thin edge of time. Behind us lies a year filled with moments we cherish and moments we would rather forget. Ahead of us stretches an unwritten and uncertain future. Few voices speak more clearly into this moment than the apostle Paul, who writes not from comfort or certainty, but from prison. Even there, Paul refuses to be defined by the past. Instead, he declares a posture for faithful living: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead.

In Paul’s world, Roman runners were trained never to look back during a race. To glance over one’s shoulder could cause a stumble or a loss of momentum. The runner’s focus had to remain fixed on the finish line. Paul borrows this image intentionally. Faith, like running, requires focus. Forward movement demands that we resist the temptation to continue our journey while preoccupied with the past.

As this year closes, Paul’s words invite us into two honest questions.

1. What are the things I need to put behind me?

Some things must be released if we are to move forward with freedom. Failures that haunt us, resentments we cling to, and regrets that still whisper accusations—all of these can quietly disrupt our future if we allow them to travel with us.

Anyone who has tried to move into a new home knows the importance of sorting before packing. If everything is boxed indiscriminately, clutter simply relocates. But wise movers ask, What still belongs in my life—and what has served its purpose? New Year’s Eve offers us a similar moment of discernment.

Putting things behind us does not mean denying pain or pretending wounds did not happen. Paul himself carried scars, memories, and consequences. What he refused to carry was shame as an identity. Paul entrusted even his past to the grace of God.

For us, putting things behind may mean forgiving someone who hurt us, or perhaps, forgiving ourselves. It may mean loosening our grip on habits that drain joy, expectations that no longer align with God’s call, or even past successes that tempt us to live on yesterday’s wins rather than focusing on today’s opportunities.

As the spiritual writer Henri Nouwen once said, “We are not what we have done, nor what has been done to us; we are the beloved children of God.” New Year’s Eve gives us permission to leave behind what no longer speaks truth over our lives.

2. What are the things I want to press toward?

Letting go is not the final goal. What are you aiming to improve or to achieve in the new year? Paul reminds us that faith is also about pursuit. “I press on toward the goal,” he says.  We press toward the upward call of God in Jesus Christ, not for comfort, applause, or achievement, but because it is the best and most effective way to live.

Pressing on invites us to ask where God may be leading us next. Perhaps it is toward deeper prayer, greater attentiveness to Scripture, or renewed commitment to worship. Maybe it is toward reconciliation, generosity, justice, courage, or rest. For some, pressing on may mean beginning again after disappointment. For others, it may mean continuing faithfully when the journey feels long.

Paul’s vision of the prize is not perfection but direction. Faithfulness is measured not by flawless performance, but by a heart oriented toward God’s call.

As another year begins, we are reminded that God is not finished with us yet. Grace continues to invite, shape, and send us forward to learn, grow, and serve.

As the final hours of this year slip away, we do not cross into the new year alone. The God who has been faithful in our past stands ready to help us navigate the future.

Gracious God, help us place the past behind us and the future before us. Give us courage to release what weighs us down and faith to press on toward what gives life. As we step into a new year, fix our eyes on your way of life and lead us forward with hope. Amen.

The 12 Days of Christmas: Rediscovering the Meaning of Christmastide

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

In the Christian tradition, the 12 days of Christmas are about much more than “a partridge in a pear tree.”

For many people, Christmas feels like a single day, or at most, a short season that ends as soon as the decorations come down and your playlist reverts back to your favorite non-holiday tunes.

Yet, in the Christian calendar, Christmas is not a moment to rush through, but a season in which we are invited to linger. That season is known as the Twelve Days of Christmas, or Christmastide, stretching from Christmas Day (December 25) to Epiphany (January 6).

Rather than counting down to Christmas, the Church has long counted from it, by designating twelve days set aside to savor the mystery that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14).

The practice of observing the Twelve Days of Christmas dates back to the early centuries of the Church. By the fourth century, Christmas and Epiphany were firmly established as interconnected feasts celebrating the incarnation of Christ and the revelation of that incarnation to the world. While Epiphany would later emphasize the visit of the Magi, Christmastide underscored the themes of birth, light, revelation, and joy.

In medieval Europe, these twelve days were marked by worship, feasting, storytelling, music, and rest. Work slowed. Communities gathered. The world itself seemed to pause long enough for people to absorb the wonder of Christmas. The Twelfth Night was often celebrated with special services, candles, and communal meals, signaling both joy and transition.

In the Christmas décor displayed in our home, we have a collection of quaint English villages. These not on remind us of the scenes in Dickens’ Christmas Carol; they also hark back to the Middle Ages when homes in English Villages kept Yule logs burning throughout the twelve days, symbolizing the enduring light of Christ in the darkest season of the year.

Christmastide invites us to live into the truth announced on Christmas Eve: “Unto us a child is born” (Isaiah 9:6). The season is not about adding more festivities but about allowing the significance of Christ’s birth to settle into our hearts.

The Twelve Days remind us that joy deepens when it is not rushed. Christmas is not meant to be consumed in a day but contemplated over time.

The familiar carol “The Twelve Days of Christmas” has often been misunderstood as a playful take on holiday gifts. While symbolic interpretations of the gifts mentioned in the carol are often debated, the song itself reflects the spirit of Christmastide. It echoes a season where joy accumulates progressively.

As theologian Frederick Buechner once wrote, “Joy is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are.” Christmastide creates space for that recognition.

The Twelve Days of Christmas culminate in Epiphany, the celebration of the Magi’s visit to the Christ child. This moment widens the lens of Christmas, reminding us that the child born in Bethlehem is not only for a small family or a single nation, but for the whole world.

Matthew 2:11 tells us, “They saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage.” The journey of the Magi signals that Christmas leads us outward from adoration to action, from wonder to witness.

Historically, Epiphany was one of the most important feast days of the year, especially in Eastern Christianity, emphasizing revelation and light. In many cultures, gifts were exchanged on January 6 rather than December 25, underscoring that the Christmas story unfolds over time.

In a culture that urges us to move on, Christmastide invites us to stay. To keep the tree lit a little longer. To sing carols past December 25. To practice gratitude after the gifts are opened. To let peace settle in once the rush subsides.

As Howard Thurman wisely observed, “When the song of the angels is stilled… the work of Christmas begins.”

The Twelve Days of Christmas remind us that Christmas is not an ending but a beginning. Christmastide invites us to experience the joy and explore the wonder that “the Word became flesh and moved into the neighborhood” (John 1:14 The Message).

Recovering the Lost Art of Pondering

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

In Luke’s telling of the Christmas story, there is a quiet line that is easy to overlook amid angels, shepherds, and songs of praise. Twice, Luke pauses the action to tell us something about Mary: “Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart” (Luke 2:19; see also Luke 2:51). While others hurried home or returned to their fields, Mary lingered. She pondered.

That single word—pondered—feels almost foreign in our hurried world. We are far more practiced at reacting, scrolling, multitasking, and moving on. We skim headlines, rush conversations, and measure productivity by speed. Pondering, by contrast, requires stillness. It asks us to slow down, to contemplate the significance of an experience rather than rush to explain or resolve it.

Mary’s pondering was not passive or sentimental. It was intentional. She had just given birth under uncertain circumstances, welcomed unexpected visitors, and heard astonishing claims about her child. None of it neatly fit together. Rather than forcing quick conclusions, Mary gathered these moments and carried them within her, trusting that meaning would unfold over time.

In this sense, pondering is an act of faith. It resists the pressure to have immediate answers. It allows mystery to remain mystery. As the poet Rainer Maria Rilke once advised, “Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” Mary lived the questions.

Scripture suggests this practice. The psalmist urges, “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). The prophet Isaiah writes, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be your strength” (Isaiah 30:15). Pondering is not withdrawal from life but a deeper engagement with it—one rooted in attentiveness and trust.

Historically, this kind of reflection was once considered a spiritual discipline. Early monastics spoke of ruminatio, the slow, prayerful chewing on scripture, much like a cow chewing cud. Lectio divina, still practiced today, invites readers not to rush through sacred words but to linger over them until they sink from the mind into the heart. Wisdom, they believed, comes not from volume of information but from depth of attention.

Our fast-paced culture rarely encourages such depth. We are trained to move on quickly, to optimize time, to fill every quiet moment with noise. Even joy is rushed. We snap pictures instead of absorbing the moment, post updates instead of savoring experiences. In the process, we risk missing the meaning woven into our days.

Recovering the lost art of pondering does not require retreating to a monastery. It begins with small, intentional pauses. It might mean sitting with a scripture instead of rushing to the next task, reflecting on a conversation long after it ends, or resisting the urge to explain away an experience that feels unresolved. It means permitting ourselves to say, “I don’t fully understand this yet, and that’s okay.”

Pondering also changes how we listen to others. When we slow down enough to treasure their stories rather than rush to respond, relationships deepen. When we hold moments with care instead of judgment, gratitude grows. Life becomes less about accumulation and more about attentiveness.

Mary’s example reminds us that some truths cannot be grasped in haste. They must be held, revisited, and trusted. The child she pondered would grow, teach, heal, and redeem. But for now, Mary simply treasured what she had been given.

Perhaps this season, and every season, invites us to do the same. To recover the lost art of pondering is to reclaim space for wonder, wisdom, and faith to take root. In a world that urges us to hurry, pondering becomes a quiet act of resistance, and a sacred practice for the living of these days.

(This column is a revision of a Wednesday night devotional I shared at the First Baptist Church of Pensacola in December 2008.)

Four Voices, One Holy Mystery: The Gift of Multiple Perspectives on the Christmas Story from the Gospels

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

The Christmas story is so familiar that we sometimes forget it comes to us through more than one gospel writer’s perspective. Nativity scenes blend shepherds and angels, wise men and a star, Mary and Joseph and a manger into a single display. Yet when we turn to the Gospels, we discover that each writer tells the story from a distinct perspective, or, in one case, chooses not to tell it at all. These different viewpoints do not compete with one another; they enrich our understanding of the mystery of the birth of Jesus.

Matthew: Christmas Through the Lens of Lineage

Matthew’s Gospel tells the Christmas story with one eye firmly fixed on Israel’s scriptures. Written for a largely Jewish audience, Matthew frames Jesus’ birth as the fulfillment of ancient promises. The genealogy of Jesus traces his lineage back through Abraham and David, anchoring the story in God’s covenant history.

Matthew highlights Joseph’s experience, including the angelic dream, the struggle to do what is right, and the costly obedience that follows. The visit of the Magi, the guiding star, and the flight into Egypt all echo Israel’s past, reminding readers that God is continuing a long and faithful story. Matthew invites us to see Christmas as God keeping promises, even when fulfillment of those promises arrives in unexpected ways.

Luke: Christmas as Music for Those on the Margins

Luke’s Gospel is steeped in joy and wonder. Angels sing, the lowly are lifted up, and good news is announced to those on the margins. By focusing on women, the poor, and the powerless, Luke reminds us that the birth of Jesus is good news for all people. His perspective teaches us that Christmas is not just about God entering history, but about God drawing near to those who feel forgotten.

If Matthew emphasizes heritage, Luke emphasizes inclusion of those on the fringes. Luke’s account is the most detailed and the most tender. He gives voice to Mary’s song, Zechariah’s prophecy, and the angels’ proclamation to shepherds, who were ordinary laborers often overlooked by society.

John: Christmas as Cosmic Mystery

Just as Matthew’s gospel comes from a more Jewish perspective and Luke’s narrative is more melodic, John’s version is more philosophical. The writer offers no manger, no shepherds, and no Bethlehem journey. Instead, he begins his Gospel with a soaring theological hymn: “In the beginning was the Word…” For John, Christmas is not primarily a story about where Jesus was born, but about who Jesus is.

By proclaiming that “the Word became flesh and lived among us” (John 1:14), John invites readers to contemplate the cosmic significance of the incarnation. Christmas, in this telling, is the moment when eternal light enters human darkness.

John’s use of the ”Word,” which is translated from “Logos,” meaning “reason” or “being,” or perhaps “the reason for being.” helps us see the nativity not only as a historical event, but as a divine mystery that reshapes all of reality.

Mark: Christmas Silence That Speaks

Mark, the earliest Gospel, says nothing about Jesus’ birth at all. He begins with Jesus’ public ministry, moving swiftly and urgently toward the cross. This absence is not an oversight; it is a theological choice.

The silence of Mark on the birth narrative invites us to focus not on sentiment, but on essence. Mark’s focus is on the earthly ministry of Jesus and the teachings of Jesus. Christmas, from this angle, calls us not just to wonder, but to follow those teachings and to align our lives with Jesus’ initiatives.

Taken together, the four Gospels offer a fuller, richer portrait of Christ’s coming than any single account could provide. Much like four sportswriters covering an athletic event from four different seats in the stadium, these biblical writers present the story from the view they’ve been given.

Matthew grounds us in God’s faithfulness, Luke draws us into God’s compassion, John lifts our eyes to God’s mystery, and Mark keeps us focused on God’s mission.

In a world shaped by differing viewpoints, the Gospels remind us that truth is often best seen through multiple lenses. The Christmas story is not diminished by its varied tellings; it is deepened. Each voice adds texture, meaning, and insight to the good news that God is with us.

As we revisit the story year after year, perhaps we are invited to listen again with fresh ears. By contemplating each Gospel’s perspective, we discover that the light of Christmas shines more brilliantly when seen from the whole prism.

(This column is a revision of a Wednesday night message I shared at the First Baptist Church of Pensacola in 2009.)

12 Things We All Need to Hear on Christmas Eve

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

Christmas Eve Services are sacred and joyful occasions. Churches and chapels fill with familiar carols and flickering candles, but they also fill with people carrying complex stories—joy and grief, gratitude and loss, faith and questions. On this holy night, words matter. What people hear can steady a weary heart or open a door to hope.

Over the years, I’ve been a part of dozens of Christmas Eve services, most of which have been inspiring and encouraging. I’ve also been to a few that were…Well, let’s just say they were lacking.

Here are twelve things people need to hear on Christmas Eve—truths that echo from the original Christmas story and still speak powerfully today.

1. You are welcome here. Christmas Eve is not a private gathering for insiders. It is a wide-open invitation. Whether someone comes weekly or once a year, confident or uncertain, hopeful or hurting, the message is the same: You belong.

2. “Unto us a child is born.” Most importantly, we need to hear the scripture story. The Christ who was born in Bethlehem is God’s gift for you, for me, and for all of us. The good news is not for a select group of people, but for all people from all nations, all races, and all walks of life.

3. “Fear not!” The first words spoken by the angel on the first Christmas were not instructions or expectations—they were reassurance. Fear not. Those words still matter in a world anxious about health, relationships, finances, violence, and the future. Christmas begins with comfort.

4. Christmas brings good news…tidings of great joy. This joy of Christmas is not shallow cheer or forced happiness. It is good news that God has not abandoned the world. Joy is possible even when circumstances are difficult because God has “become flesh and moved into the neighborhood” (John 1:14 MSG)

5. It’s okay to feel joy and sorrow at the same time. For many, Christmas is layered with grace and grief. Christmas Eve gives permission to hold both realities at once. You don’t have to choose between honesty and hope. The manger holds space for both.

6. God meets us exactly where we are. The Christmas story unfolds not in a palace, but in borrowed space. God did not wait for ideal conditions. In the same way, God meets us not where we wish we were, but right where we are.

7. You are not alone. Emmanuel means “God with us.” Christmas is the announcement that God has chosen presence over distance. Emmanuel is not an abstract idea; it is a promise that we are accompanied through all of life, including uncertainty, grief, joy, and change.

8. God comes near to us, even in messy and uncertain circumstances. The birth of Jesus happened amid disruption, displacement, and danger. That should comfort us. God is not deterred by our chaos. Divine love enters the world as it is, not as we wish it to be.

9. You can experience the peace of Christ, even if every conflict isn’t resolved. Peace does not require that everything be fixed. The peace Christ brings is deeper than resolution—it is the steady assurance of God’s nearness in the midst of unresolved tensions.

10. The darkness will not have the final word. The Christmas star that guided those seeking the Christ child reminds us that night may surround the nativity, but it does not overcome it. Christmas declares that light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot extinguish it. This is not denial of hardship; it is defiance of despair.

11. The birth narrative is just the beginning. The story does not end at the manger. It continues through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, and it continues still. God is at work in the world and in our lives, shaping a story not yet finished.

12. Like Mary, we can ponder and treasure these things in our hearts. Christmas Eve does not demand immediate understanding or action. It invites reflection. Wonder. Quiet trust. Sometimes the holiest response is simply to hold the mystery close and let it work on us over time.

Christmas Eve is not about having all the answers. It is about receiving a gift. A child born in humility. A love that embraces us unconditionally. A light that shines gently but persistently into the darkest places.

These are the things people need to hear, not just on Christmas Eve, but in the days that follow as the Light of Christmas helps to navigate the daily grind of life.

12 Things a Pastor Should Not Say at a Christmas Eve Service

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

Christmas Eve is one of my favorite services of the year. As a pastor, I’ve had a few more verbal gaffes than I care to admit. It’s a busy season for everyone, including church staff.

For some, in addition to getting ready for one of the most well-attended services of the year, the service falls on a day when the church office is closed, meaning that your usual team of workers is not present to assist with the preparations. And it’s the final week of the church year, which for most churches means it’s the highest “giving” week of the year.

In my experience, Christmas Eve services have the feel of a family reunion because so many former members, extended family members, and new family members are back home.

Yet Christmas Eve worship is also a sacred time. It is one of the few times each year when the sanctuary is filled with longtime members, occasional attenders, visitors, skeptics, children, and people quietly carrying grief or other heavy emotions. Candles glow, carols summon treasured memories, poinsettias adorn sanctuaries and chapels, and souls arrive with high expectations. Because the moment matters so much, words matter, perhaps more than on any other night of the church year.

With that in mind, here are 12 things a pastor should probably not say at a Christmas Eve service. I offer these from a wellspring of experience, a pastoral heart, and deep respect for the moment.

  1. “I see a lot of unfamiliar faces tonight.” Visitors don’t want to be called out or singled out; they simply prefer to be welcomed. Christmas Eve is about hospitality, creating a place and space where everyone is welcomed like family.
  2. “I promise this sermon will be short… well, shorter than usual.” This is not the night to preach a lengthy message. Let your sermon be well-prepared and appropriately brief, without commentary about the brevity.
  3. “You all know the words to these carols, so you won’t need your hymnals.”
    Familiarity varies, and carols are meant to invite participation, not test memory. If you have attendees who are new to the church, new to the faith, and perhaps even new to the celebration of Christmas, consider that a gift. You may also have a few members with memory issues. Don’t make them uncomfortable by making them feel like they don’t belong if they don’t know all the words to the songs.
  4. “I didn’t have much time to prepare.” Even if this is true, this confession doesn’t belong in a holy moment. Christmas Eve deserves thoughtful preparation. And from my experience, if you didn’t prepare well, your congregation will know it soon enough.
  5. “You all know the story of Jesus’ birth so well that there’s no need to read the scripture tonight.” The story never grows old, and scripture never becomes optional, especially on this night. When I prepare for sermons, I read the text from a variety of translations. But on Christmas Eve, I read the Christmas story from the translation most familiar to the congregation.
  6. “On this very night, 2,025 years ago, Jesus was born in a manger.” Most worshippers are aware that December 25 is the date designated to celebrate Jesus’ birth, and not the actual date of Jesus’ birth. Most scholars and historians suggest that Jesus was likely born in the spring. Regardless, there is not suggestion of a date for the birth of the Christ child in scripture. Intellectual integrity matters. Christmas Eve celebrates mystery and meaning, not questionable calendaring.
  7. “Kids, you need to know that Jesus is real and Santa is not.” Christmas Eve is not the time to resolve cultural debates, or to risk breaking tender trust. How parents deal with the legend of St. Nicolas and stories of toys being delivered should be left to them, and not a pastor with an impulse to set the record straight.
  8. “I won’t mention politics… but since I brought it up…” Some nights are meant to be mercifully politics-free. This is one of them. We live in an age where almost anything, including “love your neighbor,” can be perceived as political. But partisan political jabs do not communicate “good news of great joy which shall be for all the people” (Luke 2:10).
  9. “This is my favorite service, except for Easter.” Ranking holy days is unnecessary. Each has its own meaning and its own place in the story. It may be more helpful to say, “This is one of my favorite times of the year.”
  10. “I sure wish we had a nursery tonight because the kids are making too much noise.” Children are not interruptions to worship; they are signs of life within it. As many churches lament the lack of children and young families, one of the worst things a pastor can do is to complain about the presence of children.
  11. “Some of you are behind on your giving, and tonight is a great opportunity to catch up.” Because the Christmas Eve service occurs during the opportune season for “end-of-the-year giving,” pastors can be tempted to be highly proactive in promoting this stewardship moment. While it’s okay to remind the congregation of giving opportunities, it’s not okay to make your Christmas Eve service sound like an infomercial for the church budget. I prefer to put an end-of-the-year giving promo in the printed program, and not to mention it during the service.
  12. “I’ll see some of you next Sunday, and some of you I probably won’t see until Easter.” Christmas Eve is not the time for guilt trips. Gratitude is always a better invitation. Plan the quality of your service and calibrate your words so that less frequent attenders will be inspired, even compelled, to participate more frequently, without being belittled.

Christmas Eve worship is not about perfection; it’s about presence. It is about creating space for wonder, for mystery, for memory, for hope, and for good news that is like light breaking into the darkness. The best Christmas Eve services allow the story itself to do the heavy lifting, through scripture, song, silence, and candlelight.

After all, the most important words spoken on Christmas Eve were not delivered from a pulpit at all, but whispered through angels and sung into the night: “Do not be afraid… for unto you is born this day a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.”

And really, that is more than enough to say.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who serves as a leadership coach and columnist for the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)

Curious About Christmas: 10 Things You Might Want to Know

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

Christmas is one of the most beloved and most familiar celebrations in the world. However, some wonder about the cultural and spiritual reasons behind the various traditions we embrace during this season.

Throughout my years of serving as a pastor, I’ve been asked quite a few questions about Christmas. Some were mentioned out of mere curiosity, and others were asked with a profound sense of theological inquiry. I readily knew the answer to a few of the questions, and others I had to investigate.

Here are ten of the more common Christmas questions, with answers that may surprise you.

1. What is the most popular Christmas carol? Across cultures and denominations, “Silent Night” is widely regarded as the most beloved Christmas carol in the world. First sung in 1818 in a small Austrian church, it has been translated into hundreds of languages and is cherished for its simplicity, reverence, and peaceful theology. Its enduring appeal lies in how poetically it tells the Christmas story.

2. When did the celebration of Christmas first begin in the United States? The first Christmas celebration in the US occurred in 1539 in Tallahassee, Florida at Mission San Luis. Christmas was not widely celebrated in early America. In fact, Puritans in New England actively opposed it, viewing it as unbiblical and overly indulgent. Christmas gradually gained acceptance in the 1800s and became a federal holiday in 1870, thanks in part to changing cultural attitudes and waves of European immigrants.

3. When did our current representation of Santa Claus begin? The modern image of Santa Claus emerged in the 19th century. Clement Clarke Moore’s 1823 poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas” (better known as “’Twas the Night Before Christmas”) shaped Santa as a jolly, gift-giving figure. Later, illustrator Thomas Nast and 20th-century advertising (especially Coca-Cola campaigns) cemented the red-suited Santa we recognize today.

4. Are Christmas trees evil? How did the Christmas tree become a part of the celebration? No. Christmas trees are not evil or satanic. The tradition of decorating evergreen trees began in Germany during the 16th century. German immigrants brought the custom to America in the 1800s. Evergreens symbolized life in the midst of winter, which celebrates hope and light entering a dark world.

5. What is the highest-grossing Christmas movie of all time? The highest grossing Christmas movie of all time:  When the Grinch Stole Christmas at $260 million.  (Jim Carrey version).  2nd is Polar Express at $183 million.

6. When was Jesus born? It is highly unlikely that Jesus was born on December 25. The Bible does not give an exact date for Jesus’ birth. Most scholars agree that Jesus was likely born between 6 and 4 B.C. Jesus was more likely born in the spring. The December 25 celebration developed later, which was a way to emphasize Christ as the “Light of the World” rather than pinpointing a historical date.

7. How many wise men were there? Many assume that there were 3 Wise Men since there were 3 gifts, but the Bible doesn’t provide the number of Wise Men who made the journey.  The Wise Men did not see the “babe in a manger” because they arrived after he was presented in the temple…anywhere from 13 days to about 2 years following the birth of Jesus.

8. Why was Jesus born in Bethlehem? Bethlehem was the city of King David, giving the story messianic significance. The prophet Micah foretold that a ruler would come from Bethlehem (Micah 5:2). Jesus’ birth there highlights God’s tendency to work through humble places to accomplish divine purposes.

9. Why do some people use “Xmas” instead of “Christmas”? “Xmas” is not a modern attempt to remove Christ from Christmas. The “X” comes from the Greek letter Chi, the first letter in Christos (Christ). Early Christians used it as a sacred abbreviation long before it appeared on greeting cards.

10. What does the word “holiday” actually mean? The word “holiday” is a good and positive word that comes from holy day. It originally referred to days set apart for religious observance. While the meaning has broadened, Christmas remains a true holy day, a festive occasion marked by carols and candles, worship and wonder, generosity and joy.

Christmas is more than a season of tradition. Our celebration of Christmas originates from a story of good news layered with history, meaning, and mystery. Asking questions doesn’t diminish the celebration. Rather, questions deepen our appreciation and understanding.

And at the heart of every answer is the same enduring truth: “The Word became flesh and moved into the neighborhood.” (John 1:14 MSG)

(This column is a revision of a Wednesday night devotional I shared at the First Baptist Church of Pensacola in December 2015.)

The Longest Night: Darkness Does Not Have the Final Word

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

The winter solstice arrives quietly. No banners are announcing it, no sudden shift we can see with the naked eye. Yet it marks a profound turning point. On this day, darkness reaches its peak. Night extends longer than it will all year. And yet, we endure the long night because we are confident the light will return.

Scripture gives language to this paradox. The prophet Isaiah declares, “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined” (Isaiah 9:2). The promise is not that darkness never comes, but that darkness never has the final word.

Astronomically, the solstice occurs when the earth’s axis tilts farthest from the sun, producing the least daylight in the northern hemisphere. Spiritually, many of us recognize this pattern in our own lives. Seasons of grief, uncertainty, exhaustion, or disappointment can feel endless, as if the night keeps extending on with no hint of morning. We wonder if the darkness will ever loosen its grip.

The solstice reminds us that even darkness has a limit.

One of the most important lessons of the shortest day is that the change we experience is seldom sudden and dramatic. Change occurs gradually. After the solstice, the days do not suddenly feel brighter. The next morning looks much like the one before it. But minute by minute, day by day, the balance begins to shift. Light returns so slowly that it is almost missed until suddenly it is undeniable.

That is often how hope works. That is how healing works. That is how God works.

During World War II, as London endured the relentless bombing of the Blitz, citizens learned to live with extended blackouts. Nights were long and fearful. Yet historians note that morale began to change not when the bombing immediately stopped, but when people sensed that the tide of the war had turned. Victory was not yet visible, but direction mattered. The turning point preceded the outcome.

The winter solstice is such a turning point.

It also reminds us that darkness is not a failure. Winter is not a mistake in the calendar. Trees stripped bare are not dead; they are conserving energy. Fields lying fallow are not wasted; they are resting. In the same way, seasons of stillness or sorrow in our lives are not evidence that something has gone wrong. They may be necessary pauses as strength is being rebuilt and faith is quietly deepening.

The psalmist understood this rhythm when he wrote, “Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning” (Psalm 30:5). Morning does not deny the night; it simply follows it.

The spiritual writer Henri Nouwen once observed, “Hope is the willingness to keep living in the midst of despair.” The solstice embodies that kind of hope, not naïve optimism, but a steady trust that light is on its way even when the night feels longest.

This matters especially during the holidays, when joy and grief often coexist. The season can amplify loss as much as celebration. The shortest day of the year gives us permission to acknowledge the heaviness we carry while still leaning toward hope. We do not have to rush our healing or force cheer where sorrow remains. We can wait with expectation.

Perhaps the most enduring lesson of the solstice is this: light does not need permission from darkness to shine. Darkness does not decide when the sun will rise. Fear does not determine the ending of the story. Loss does not cancel renewal.

The solstice is a hinge in the year, a reminder that when it feels like we have reached the limits of endurance, something new is already beginning. The night may still be long, but the direction has changed.

And that, perhaps, is the gift of the shortest day of the year, not the absence of darkness, but the assurance that darkness will not last forever.

Carved in the Desert: A Camel Bone Nativity

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

Every year as Advent approaches, our home fills with familiar scenes of the manger. Some families collect ornaments; others add to their array of wreaths or village houses. For us, the season is marked by the careful unpacking of a growing collection of nativities, each one crafted in a different style, shaped by a different culture, and offering its own unique lens on the birth of Christ.

Our newest addition arrived with a story all its own: a nativity made of camel bone, brought back from Egypt when my wife visited friends there last year. Delicately carved, smooth to the touch, and striking in its simplicity, it immediately captured our imagination, not only for its beauty, but for the tradition it represents.

For centuries, artisans in Egypt and throughout the Middle East have worked with camel bone, a durable byproduct of animals that have been long essential to desert life. Camel bone carving developed out of necessity and respect, using every part of the animal rather than wasting it. Over time, the craft became a form of folk art, passed down through generations, often depicting religious scenes, daily life, and symbols of faith. In Christian communities across the region, camel bone became a meaningful medium for carving crosses, rosaries, and nativity scenes—quiet testimonies of faith formed from the resources of the land.

That connection feels especially fitting. Camels themselves appear throughout the biblical narrative, symbols of endurance, provision, and long journeys across difficult terrain. A nativity carved from camel bone feels rooted in the geography and texture of the biblical world, echoing the landscape in which the Christmas story first unfolded.

Our growing collection tells its own global story. We have a wooden nativity carved by a Jewish cabinet maker in Birmingham, an echo of Joseph’s trade. The figures are sturdy, as if shaped by hands that know the weight of purpose.

There is a blown glass nativity, fragile and luminous, capturing the wonder of the night when heaven bent low to earth.

We treasure a ceramic nativity created by my wife’s mother, its colors warm and familiar, infused with the love and legacy of family.

And on our tree hangs a pewter ornament depicting the nativity scene—small, durable, and timeless.

Now, standing quietly on our bookshelf, the camel bone nativity from Egypt adds yet another voice to this beautiful chorus. Each piece comes from a different place and perspective, yet they all tell the same story: God choosing to enter our world in the most unexpected and humble way.

As they gather together, these nativities preach a quiet sermon. They remind us that the Christmas story is not confined to a single style, language, or land. It has traveled across borders and generations, finding expression in wood, glass, ceramic, metal—and now, camel bone.

This diverse collection testifies to the global reach of the gospel and the countless cultures shaped by the message of Emmanuel, “God with us.” It also invites us to see the manger with fresh eyes—eyes that recognize that the good news of great joy truly is for all people.

In a season when the world can feel divided, our nativities stand together as a small but powerful reminder: the Child born in Bethlehem still draws the nations to the greatest story ever told—one story, one culture, one family tradition at a time.

Fear Not: Anxiety Doesn’t Get the Final Word

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment


Advent Devotional
Scripture: Isaiah 41:10

In 1933, at the height of the Great Depression, President Franklin D. Roosevelt offered words that steadied a shaken nation: “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Those words did not end the economic crisis, but they did something equally important—they reminded people that fear must not be allowed to paralyze the soul.

Centuries earlier, God spoke a remarkably similar message through the prophet Isaiah to a people who were discouraged, displaced, and afraid. To them, the Lord said: “I am the Lord, your God, who grasp your right hand; it is I who say to you, ‘Fear not, I will help you.’” These are not the words of a distant deity issuing commands from afar. They are the words of a God who draws near—who takes people by the hand like a loving parent guiding a frightened child through the dark.

Isaiah goes on to paint vivid images of renewal and restoration. He describes deserts transformed into lush gardens, rivers flowing through dry land, and barren places bursting with life. These are not merely poetic flourishes; they are promises. They testify to what God can do when hope feels exhausted and the landscape of our lives seems stripped bare. God specializes in bringing life where we see only loss.

We catch glimpses of that promise in our own time. After hurricanes or tornadoes, entire neighborhoods can appear devastated…homes flattened, trees uprooted, familiar landmarks erased. At first, the destruction feels overwhelming. Yet slowly, almost imperceptibly, rebuilding begins. New houses rise. Trees are replanted. Life returns. What once looked like total ruin becomes a place of renewal and hope. This is the kind of transformation Isaiah envisions when God promises to make “rivers flow on the bare heights.”

The spiritual writer Thomas Merton once observed, “Hope is not something that comes with proof. It is not seen. It is given in the dark, when everything else is doubtful.” Isaiah’s words are precisely that kind of hope—a gift offered not when circumstances are ideal, but when fear and uncertainty press in most heavily.

Advent is a season that meets us in that very space. It does not deny the darkness of the world or the weight we carry. Instead, it announces that God has not abandoned us. God is still grasping our hand. God is still turning deserts into gardens. God is still at work, quietly and faithfully, even when we cannot yet see the results.

So whatever burdens or anxieties you carry today, hear this ancient promise as if it were spoken directly to you: “Fear not, I will help you.” This assurance is not just for Israel long ago. It is for us here and now, as we wait and watch for the coming of Christ—our Emmanuel, God-with-us.

Prayer:
Gracious God, when fear grips our hearts, anxiety invades our thoughts, and the future feels uncertain, remind us that you are near. Take us by the hand, steady our steps, and renew our hope as we wait for the coming of your Son. Help us trust your presence in the darkness and your promise of new life. We place our fears in your care and rest in your unfailing love. Amen.