Rock Pile

It seems to happen every year. The shopping is finished. The parties are over. All of the surprises have been had. We've gone through the annual ritual of opening the family Christmas gifts in front of the fireplace, around that splendid tree that my wife always puts up. Each of the family members tends to drift off to our own quiet little corner of the house. Reading the new book. Trying on the new clothes. Playing with the new gadget. Everyone seems content.

And me? I guess I'm no different. I drift off a bit myself. I usually put away the things I received for Christmas right away. I may have to endure the frustration of trying to put together a new toy for the kids. Or I'll have to figure out what part is missing from the new gadget --- and promise that we'll shop for it the day after Christmas. But inevitably, I find myself drifting off to a place in my mind.

It's a unique little place. A library of sorts. It holds all those memories of Christmases past. I don't go there often. Really I only go there at Christmas time. How strange that is. I wonder why I don't visit there more frequently than that.

In this unique place in my mind, I find the face of Christmases past. I recall family Christmases at home when I was younger. Dad & Mom set the tone. Brothers and sister, nieces and nephews, grandparents. They were all part of the scene. Grandpa and Grandma are dead now. Long ago actually. Dad and Mom are dead too. Brothers have drifted off to their own lives. Nieces and nephews grew up. My sister continues to be estranged ... certain that she knows better than I what truth is all about.

I don't know if it's a memory of Christmases past - or a reminder of Christmases lost. Christmas in my youth always seemed a special time. But I can't say they were better Christmases. They were different. And more noticeable is how I find that they had such an impact on me. They seem like such profound Christmases now. And I find myself grieving. But what is it that I grieve? Good question.

I don't know if I would wish for things to be like they were in days gone by. I'm pretty sure that I don't. I've always been the guy who looks ahead, embraces change and believes in the future. But apparently I grieve something. And I do it just about every year on Christmas day. What could it be? What could take the most special day of the year and drive me to a melancholy mood of somber silence?

I wonder if maybe I'm just grieving the Christmases that could have been. I come from what could only be defined as a dysfunctional family. Ironically, I'm pretty sure that most of my family members would argue with me about that definition. (That in itself probably validates the definition.) I have to admit that the dysfunction saddens me. And perhaps it saddens me more at Christmas time than at any other time of the year.

Is it that Christmas can shine such a light on family dysfunction? Or is it that the world around us puts such expectations upon Christmas that any family looks dysfunctional as it fails to live up to those unrealistic expectations? Somehow I expect it is the latter. Regardless of the cause, family dysfunction seems to foist its measure of sadness on me at Christmas more than any other time of the year.

Now somewhere in this place of sadness, I find myself turning to my Lord. It's as if He followed me into this place. And just when I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by the dysfunction of it all ... I turn and He is there. And He's saying, "I'm here, son. Embrace me." When He does that, the pain of any family dysfunction seems to fade. He is that kind of God.

I always get up in the morning and read my Bible ... before I do anything else. I was sharing with a friend the other day how intense those sessions have gotten lately. I can sit and read for hours if the day would allow. I just can't seem to spend enough time in God's Word lately. Anyway, I was reading this morning in the book of Joshua and had a profound epiphany on Christmas morning. In the book of Joshua.

Moses had died and Joshua was leading the Israelites into the Promised Land. As God had instructed, Joshua had the Levite priests carry the Ark of the Covenant ahead of the people. They had to cross the Jordan River, which was seasonally at its crest. But when the priests set foot into the Jordan River, it stopped flowing and the water piled up on one side, while draining from the other side. Soon there was a dry river bed for the Israelites to cross.

The Levites stood there with the Ark of the Covenant while something like 2 million people crossed. It was an incredible miracle. Just like He had parted the Red Sea some 40 years earlier, God again parted the rushing, turbulent and deepest waters of the Jordan River to make a clear, safe passage for His people.

After they had crossed, Joshua had leaders of the 12 tribes go and get a rock each from the dry river bed. When the priests came out the water rushed back in and the river was again fully and flowing. But they used the rocks to make a sort of a monument --- to remind them of what God had done for them.

So as I went out front to get the morning paper, the cold air confronted me. It was at that moment that I realized God has parted plenty of rushing, dangerous waters for me in my day. I've walked through amazing circumstances safely because of His intervention. I stood there in the crisp dawn and thanked God aloud. I wondered if I should build a memorial of rocks in my yard to remind me of where God has taken me.

I can't seem to help but make this annual trek to the sadder places of my mind. It seems that the Christmas festivities and the unreal expectations that our society places on them drive me there, year after year. But I also can't explain the miracle that occurs each year. I wander through the family dysfunction, observing the pain of what has or what could have been.

And always I turn and He is there. God is right there with me. And He says that Jesus is enough. Jesus is more than enough for everything that was or could have been. At our church's Christmas Eve service last night, I sat and listened to the most beautiful voice of the soloist singing, "Hallelujah, hallelujah! Son of God ... you're here with me." And the tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought about just how true that really is. He is here with me.

I stand in awe of a most wonderful God. I stand humbled, joyous over the knowledge that God is triumphant. And I stand with the unshakable confidence in the knowledge that I am His. And I say, "Merry Christmas, God. Thank you for your most wonderful gifts. No matter the pain and disappointment of life. In you I am just fine."

I think I shall start building that pile of rocks in the yard to remind me of those rushing rivers God has calmed for me to walk through. Who knows, maybe it'll become the place I can drift to on Christmas days to come.

On Tithing

I have to admit that for a long time, I considered myself a Christian - a Christ-follower, but didn't do anything about tithing. That is to say, I was aware of the mandate for God's people to give the "first fruits" of ten percent. I just didn't respond to that awareness. I had knowledge but not action.

Somewhere along the line, obedience became something that mattered to me. It wasn't a particular conviction about tithing. Rather it was a dawning awareness that obedience to God mattered. Obedience in general - in all things really. Frankly, when I had become a Christian, the notion of obeying was probably the furthest thing from my mind.

Anyway, towards the end of that year (when obedience dawned on me) I asked my wife to add up what we'd given the church. We made a ledger and saw that week after week, month after month, our giving had gradually increased. As it turned out, we were surprised to find that just about 10% of what we'd earned that year had been given.

Our first reaction to that revelation was simply, "We can't afford that!" Then we realized it had already been done. Our second reaction - or conclusion - was that apparently we could afford that, because indeed we had.

How had that come to pass? Well, I had been sitting down on Sunday mornings with our checkbook. Each week I would sit there with it and ask, "Okay God. How much?" And a certain number would come into my mind. That would be the amount of the check that week.

Had God led us into tithing without our realizing it? It surely seemed that way. I had no other explanation. And I knew that I hadn't consciously chosen to tithe. There was absolutely no deliberate effort on my part. That was several years ago. But I'll never forget that revelation that God had led us into tithing, we could afford to tithe, and we were in fact --- now "tithers." Quite frankly, it's a label we had never considered giving ourselves.

God's people are supposed to tithe. We're supposed to give at least 10% of everything we make. And we're supposed to do more than that. Ten percent goes to God (the organized church). There are offerings and gifts well beyond that though. We're to help the poor and the needy. Indeed, God wants His people to be defined as generous. Did you know that?

Now that we've been tithers for many years, I have some experiential learning about it. Let me share some of it with you.

1. Tithing is an obedience issue. God said do it. So do it.

2. It puts God first in our priorities. God gets His first. So we give our tithe before we even think about paying other bills or spending on anything else.

3. It supplies the "temple" and means "the Levites" (i.e., pastors and church staff) can be properly cared for. Without the tithe, the church is handicapped and dysfunctional.

4. Tithing affirms that we are aware God is our provision - and that we are willing to trust Him for our provision. Even when financial matters are pressing, I tithe because I know God is faithful.

5. Tithing kills selfishness and greed. It's hard to fantasize about winning the lottery, for example, when I know that God gets the tithe right off the top. All my thinking about money is changed when I'm a tither.

6. Tithing brings special blessings. God said (in Malachi 3) that our obedience in tithing will result in special blessings and provisions. Said differently, obedience in tithing means God will bless our finances. It's His promise. Really it is.

So the final part of this experiential learning I have about tithing relates to where our giving is to come from. Frankly, 10% of say a million dollars isn't too difficult. God requires the first 10% for Himself. But He further instructs His people to be generous givers. In other words, God's directive with my finances doesn't stop with tithing. For wealthy people, for example, giving God 10% isn't going to require much of a sacrifice or much faith.

But I've learned that God's people are supposed to tithe and give out of our sacrifice, and not just out of our excess. That's right, give out of our sacrifice instead of giving out of our excess. What's the difference? Giving out of our sacrifice means that we give whatever amount it takes to cut into our comfort zone.

We are all to give to the point that it costs us something. For the poor, that's probably going to be 10%. But for the affluent, it's going to be a lot more. Ten percent is the minimum. And there is no cap.

The Lord loves a cheerful giver. (2 Corinthians 9:7) But I've learned that when this so-called cheerful giver loves the Lord and gives out of response to that love, much more can be accomplished with that giving.

I've often wondered why so many so-called Christians can --- as I did for years --- ignore or overlook this important mandate to tithe. Frankly, I'm amazed at how many years I called myself a Christian and didn't tithe. How could I have been so ignorant and unaware?

Call it ignorance. Call it heresy. Call it whatever you want to call it. But I suspect that all most of us would need to become tithers is simply to allow God to lead us. He can lead us into that tither role, without our ever realizing He's doing it.

He is a merciful God. But He wants you and I to be tithers. He wants you and I to give generously. And He wants each of us to give from our sacrifice and not just from our excess. It's how God's people are to be defined. It is His will for our lives.