Christmastime is such a rich feast for the senses, isn’t it? It’s the sights, sounds, tastes, scents... literally ALL the feels.  It’s seeing the many lights strung on the homes in our neighborhoods. Or hearing the songs of the season (even repeatedly) - as long as it’s not “Last Christmas” by Wham or that Mariah Carey one (again!).  For me, the taste of panettone is special to remind me of this season, as well as the scent of the evergreen Christmas tree. I just became a proud scarf owner for the first time in my life and the warmth of scarves and sweaters as I and my family walk with the winter winds in our faces is such a sensory pleasure of the season!

Christmas reminds us that the rescue we long for doesn't necessarily come in the way we expect. In the new creation, there is power in meekness; riches in poverty.

Last Thursday was the feast of Saint Nicholas. I have to confess that much of what I know about Saint Nick has been shaped more by popular culture than church history. So, I spent a little time reading up on Nicholas and found a much different story than the jolly fat man who comes down the tree (or hangs out in malls waiting to endorse all the children’s materialistic dreams).

In the C.S. Lewis classic, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, Narnia is a place that is "always winter and never Christmas." In fact, it isn’t until Aslan the lion arrives in Narnia that Christmas comes!

The people of Narnia place their hope in the coming of Aslan to break through their "winter" and bring the hope, peace, joy, and love of Christmas.

In a recent blog, I shared the bad news that no amount of winning or success will ultimately bring salvation. I suggested that the way of salvation is admitting your death to the whole earning system altogether. Admitting that we can’t -- and need not -- attempt to save ourselves through performance. Instead we are free to admit our defeat and receive the King who has defeated death for all people. This King is named Jesus.

Jill, the fab four (our kids), and I are on vacation this week in the beautiful mountains of Pennsylvania. Taking in a change of scenery and pace, with the same loved-ones, is good for the soul. As city folk, we don’t do a lot of hiking. Give us a busy sidewalk or crowded intersection and we will crush it -- but we aren’t all hikers.

For all of the joys and even successes you may experience in life, living life well cannot save you. I am sorry to be the bearer of such negative news. No amount of perfect living is going to save any of us. Paradoxically, it’s actually in dying to the myth of salvation by achievement that we find life and hope.