Tag: faith

The Thomas Confession: Dealing with Honest Questions About Faith

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

If you have ever experienced doubts or been skeptical about matters of faith and religion, you are not alone. Frederick Buechner said, “Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith. They keep it awake and moving.”

In some religious circles, however, faith and doubt are often treated as opposites, as though one cancels out the other. In such settings, doubt is viewed with suspicion, as though it is sinful, something to be hidden, hurried past, or quietly resolved before it becomes disruptive. Yet the Christian story tells a different truth. Faith is not fragile. It is resilient, examined, and durable. It can withstand questions, doubts, and honest inquiry.

One of the most ancient and instructive examples of this kind of faith is found in John 20:24-29 in the confession of Thomas. Often labeled “Doubting Thomas,” he may be better understood as “Truth-Seeking Thomas.” When the other disciples announce that they have seen the risen Christ, Thomas responds with remarkable honesty: unless he can see and touch the wounds himself, he cannot believe. Rather than rebuking him, Jesus invites Thomas to examine the evidence. The result is one of the strongest confessions of faith in all of Scripture: “My Lord and my God.”

Thomas reminds us that faith does not always arrive fully formed. For many, belief is born through the labor pains of honest inquiry. And, somewhat ironically, once faith takes root, it often generates more curiosity, not less. Authentic faith refuses to settle for slogan-like answers to deep and uncomfortable questions.

In the twentieth century, physicist and theologian Ian Barbour challenged the popular notion that science and faith must exist in conflict. Barbour insisted that his Christian faith made him a better scientist, not a lesser one—more curious, more rigorous, and more attentive to mystery. His work opened space for thoughtful dialogue rather than shallow debate. Like Thomas, Barbour understood that truth does not fear examination.

Consider how we make important decisions today—medical diagnoses, financial investments, or even choosing a school for our children. We do our due diligence. We ask questions. We examine evidence. We seek trusted sources. Rarely do we accept life-altering claims without investigation. Yet when it comes to matters of faith, some are told to suspend curiosity and simply “believe.” Thomas pushes back against that false choice. He models a faith that engages both heart and mind.

The New Testament consistently affirms this kind of integrated faith. Hebrews describes faith as “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Substance and evidence belong together. The gospel should never be proclaimed through emotional manipulation or social intimidation, but with truthfulness and grace, trusting the Spirit to do the deeper work of conversion.

Buechner captures this balance well when he suggests, “Faith is not being sure where you’re going, but going anyway.” Thomas did not begin with certainty; he began with courage, the courage to ask, to seek, and to stay in community even when belief felt incomplete.

Importantly, the story does not end in the locked room. Early Christian tradition holds that Thomas carried the gospel far beyond the boundaries of the Roman Empire, eventually reaching India. According to ancient sources, communities of believers there trace their origins to his witness. The disciple who once demanded evidence became a missionary whose faith changed lives across continents. Doubt did not disqualify him; it refined him.

Faith stories are life stories. The chapters already written matter, but the chapters still unfolding may prove the most significant. Like Thomas, we are invited not to silence our questions, but to bring them into the presence of Christ. There, doubt can become confession, and inquiry can give way to trust.

Navigating faith and doubts is a challenge in every generation. Yet Jesus still meets seekers where they are, with all their doubts, wounds, and questions.

If you have trouble believing in God, maybe it’s not God you have trouble believing, but the various misrepresentations of God. If you have problems believing in Jesus, perhaps it’s not Jesus you have a problem with, but the many counterfeit faces of Jesus that appear in the church and in the world. Examine the biblical account. Consider the life and teachings of Jesus. Probe the evidence, and you may just discover what you are seeking.

(This column is based on a sermon titled “The Thomas Confession” that I shared at the First Baptist Church of Pensacola on January 5, 2014.)

A Prayer for the New Year: Form in Us a Jesus-Shaped Worldview

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

Good and Gracious God,

As this new year begins, we pause to express our gratitude for your guidance and your presence during the past year. We receive this new year as a fresh invitation to live more attentively, love more generously, and trust you more deeply.

Now, as we step into this new year, we ask that you move us beyond our biases and prejudices and lead us more deeply into the pursuit of truth. Where our perspectives are limited, enlarge them. Where our assumptions are flawed, correct them. Where viewpoints are dated or misinformed, refresh them.

Give us a willingness to change our minds as we grow in wisdom and understanding. Teach us to remain humble and teachable, remembering that growth often requires listening more carefully and learning more intentionally.

Form in us a Jesus-shaped worldview, a perspective that sees the world through the lens of compassion, justice, and love. May our convictions be shaped not by fear or ideology, but by the teachings, example, and disposition of Jesus.

Make us discerning and wise, skeptical of easy answers, empty promises, and self-interested voices that seek power rather than the common good. Help us to value truth over convenience and integrity over approval.

Teach us what it truly means to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with you and with one another. May our words and actions reflect your goodness and your grace.

We acknowledge that we live in challenging and uncertain times. Grant us peace when anxiety threatens to overwhelm us, patience when progress seems slow, and perseverance when the journey grows difficult.

In all seasons and all circumstances, fortify us with hope, guide us with your wisdom, and energize us with your Spirit.


Amen.

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.

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.)

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.

The Ongoing Challenge of Learning Contentment

On By barrysnotesLeave a comment

Of all the spiritual disciplines, I think that contentment may be the toughest to learn. The challenge is ongoing.

It isn’t that I don’t want to be content—I do. It’s that we live in a world wired to keep us restless. A consumerist economy whispers that the next upgrade, the newest version, or the latest device will finally deliver satisfaction. At the same time, my own temperament nudges me toward constant evaluation: fix what is broken, mend what is fractured, restore what has fallen apart. Those instincts aren’t wrong, but they can easily pull my soul out of rhythm.

That’s why the apostle Paul’s words feel both comforting and challenging: “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances” (Philippians 4:11). Contentment, Paul reminds us, is something learned—not instantly acquired, not naturally absorbed, but gradually shaped through trust and practice.

G. K. Chesterton observed, “True contentment is a real, active virtue—not a passive or timid acceptance of things as they are.” His words help me remember that contentment isn’t complacency. It is the courageous decision to embrace this moment with gratitude rather than wait for the perfect one.

Many people now take pictures with their phones using filters—adjusting brightness, warmth, and contrast to create a more polished version of reality. Contentment works in the opposite direction. Instead of filtering our lives to hide imperfections, contentment allows us to see clearly, without distortion. It shifts the focus from what is missing to what is meaningful, helping us recognize beauty in what we already have.

At its core, contentment is a commitment to simplicity. It rearranges my priorities so that my mission becomes primary, and the tangible resources in my portfolio become tools rather than trophies—means rather than measurements. When I practice contentment, life no longer feels like an expanding inventory but an emerging story.

Something transformative happens in that shift. Relationships rise to the forefront, while possessions return to their rightful place. People become essential; stuff becomes expendable. My life becomes more like a conduit than a reservoir—a channel through which blessings flow freely into the lives of others, not a storage unit where blessings are archived, counted, and guarded.

To live with contentment, I must return again and again to one foundational truth: my self-worth is neither inflated nor deflated by my net worth. My value does not hinge on what I own, what I accomplish, or what others think of me. My identity is rooted in something deeper and more enduring—worth that was instilled and endowed by my Creator.

Contentment, then, is not resignation. It is not passive acceptance. It is the steady confidence that God’s grace is sufficient in this moment, this season, this chapter—whatever it may hold. It is the quiet courage to trust that I already have what I need to live gratefully and faithfully today.

I’m still learning this discipline. Perhaps you are, too. But each day offers a new lesson, a fresh reminder, and a renewed opportunity to loosen our grip on accumulation and tighten our embrace of gratitude.