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With songs of praise still ringing in our hearts we dig into dessert. On Christmas Eve we begin to taste the full sweetness of our celebration. We are fortunate. Not because we earned a place at the table but because for us, to us, among us – a child is born. The celebration of this birth includes the news that we are received. For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty G

The dessert has been brought out — the sweetness of Christmas is arriving. And as we receive it, we sing. Why?           Because that’s who we are. We’re the people who sing because of how deeply we feel the truth of God’s love. We sing the praise of our Creator, the Founder of the feast. We sing because we are prepared — not by our own efforts, but by grace — for this great celebration. We sing because we have been taught to include singing. We remember Mary’s Magnificat…

The dessert comes to the table through the delighted efforts of the one who loves us best, teaching us that we are cherished…           But, who, exactly, are we speaking of when we say “we?”           Certainly this is the sentiment that fills our souls, but aren’t we claiming that the arriving celebration we have come through in Advent is a sentiment to fill our world? We live at a time when groups of people are tearing each other apart. Accusations of inhumane actions. Deh

We watch as the dessert of the feast comes through the kitchen door. New plates and silverware are being set on the table. And we’re all helping now. That’s because we’re part of the household — even if we still feel like guests. We’re in. We’re welcome. We’ve received the grace of belonging, even if it’s an experience we’re just beginning to accept. We've eaten the meal with all the rest who were invited. This is the experience of grace. Grace reveals that we are now able

As we come to the end of our Advent feast, we anticipate the last course — Dessert, the day and celebration of Christmas. For many, this includes the days leading up to it, especially Christmas Eve. But let’s stay with the feast for a moment. We’ve finished the meal. The dishes that were so lovely in their settings — the serving bowls, the utensils, the cups and glasses — are now a mess. Everything that was so delightfully displayed has been used. The last streaks of gravy, t

Throughout this past week, I’ve been writing about the unexpected, the elements of Advent that catch by surprise. As we step into the last days of this glorious season, we come to a moment that contemporary chefs will call “the pre-dessert.” It is a “sorbet moment,” a gentle sweetness that cleanses the palette, shifting one from the savory main course to the tasty dessert. It is, as an aspect of Advent... wonder.           Think of the wonder in our Advent story.           A

My wife and I were invited to a pub where they only served Belgium beers. As the owner came to introduce us to his place and to take our order, my wife shared, “I don’t like beer.” His response was different. “Tell me what you do like.” After a little give and take about her tastes, he disappeared and came back with a small glass of something. “Here taste this.” She said, “Wow! This is great!” And he said, “Now you know what kind of beer you like. So that’s what you order.” H

Did you ever receive a gift that altered you, your way of thinking, your understanding of another person, or how you live and the choices you make? I think of moments like that in my own life and they came as delightful surprises. I remember receiving an album from someone who I never expected would even know the artist. And I remember receiving a book that I had not known about, but was something I definitely wanted once I saw it. Both of these changed me because they reveal

In the season of Advent, as we gather around a table with family, join colleagues from work, or find our way to a gathering of friends — do you notice the empty chair? Is there an empty chair at your table? Some people leave an empty chair for the unexpected guest — the one who brings an unforeseen element to our gathering. Advent is the arrival of that guest. It’s the season that invites us to celebrate a unique truth: the power of the opposite. God, the Creator of the univ

You know that moment at a Christmas party when you sit down at the dinner table and realize you’re wedged between two of the most boring choices in the room? Maybe it’s the uncle who talks way too much about anything, or the friend-of-a-friend who seems allergic to eye contact. You brace yourself for a long, polite evening. But then something shifts within you. As you listen to the uncle developing an epic tale, something makes you wonder if he is lonely. Maybe that’s why he

I’m writing my blog posts from Ireland and Wales just now. We’re living in Ireland for several months, and we’ve taken a few days this season to travel over to Wales. It’s been a delightful experience. Since we've been here, I’ve had a helping of Christmas pudding at two different places — and they tasted the same. (And BTW, I had read about Christmas pudding, but this was my first chance to try it authentically.) It was delicious. I learned about all the flavors mixed into t

The thing that moistens what’s dry, that fills what’s empty, and that binds together what would otherwise remain separate in the meal is the gravy. And in our Advent feast, the gravy is the sustaining essential of Faith. Now faith is not a thing of quantity. Faith isn’t a ladleful to be measured. It’s not about how much you have, but how deeply you know the One in whom you have faith. Jesus said, “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed…” not because the seed is large, b

When we talk about the main course of a meal, one of its simplest aspects is often forgotten: the spice. Think about that. A small addition — a pinch of something fragrant or fiery — can be one of the most powerful elements in a dish. It doesn’t just add something distinctive or even intrusive. A good spice, the right spice, enhances the depth of taste already present. It makes the meal memorable, enjoyable, and rich. In Advent, we are both remembering and anticipating. We s

I’m going to touch on a sensitive subject in this post… wine. For some, it is a delightful addition to a meal, adding flavor and even a sense of occasion. For others, it is a dangerous substance that creates an unyielding demand capable of controlling their lives. And yet Scripture recognizes wine as part of ordinary life. In fact, in biblical times it was one of the ways people avoided illness from unsafe water. Wine then was weaker, diluted, and woven into daily life — a ge

Vegetables do a wondrous thing for our bodies when we eat them early in a meal. They create a protective coating inside us that slows down the absorption of sugar, preventing spikes and helping regulate insulin. They stabilize energy levels, curb cravings, and promote fullness, keeping us from overindulging. They even improve how our bodies digest everything else. What plays a similar role in our spiritual systems? I suggest it is community and mutual support. The core of Jes

One of my favorite experiences is cooking. I find it both satisfying and rejuvenating. When I come home from a day at work and set about creating a meal, it’s a deeply enjoyable transition—from demands and organization into a creative phase of pleasure. I want to make someone smile. I want them to forget manners a bit and enjoy eating with some abandonment. One evening, when Beckie was away, I had three guys over. I cooked a meal they cleared—empty serving dishes at the end.

"For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently." Romans 8:24-25           Imagine sitting down to a meal, a meal that’s taken time and care to prepare and to present, and after saying a word of thanks, everyone reaches for something before them. Right then, someone at the table says, “OH! The bread is still warm!” Not rolls that were sitting in

It’s Advent. It’s time to come to the table. Taste disruption and honesty, be nourished by hope and presence, be surprised by joy and mystery, and celebrate the sweetness of God’s love. We’ve finished the appetizers. Six days of disruption, honesty, care, arrival, emotion, and presence have awakened our spiritual palate. Advent has begun with sharp flavors and grounding tastes, preparing us for the feast ahead. Now, you are invited to the main course—to sit down and dig int

If you had to produce something vitally important, where would you put your efforts? Wouldn’t you shift toward what helps most—the thing needed in that moment? Advent opens up to us when we recognize how God sees what is necessary. Advent is when we take the time to recognize what must be. That’s what happens in the Christmas story. Again and again we hear, “this happened to fulfill…” Obedience, hospitality, worship—each response rises to the top because it was necessary. Ma

Does Christmas make you cry?           I’m not talking about tying the season to grief. I’m talking about the real experience of thinking of God joining us in our existence here. Does it make you cry? I’m thinking about that because I’m thinking about the depth of emotion we might experience within our celebrations. Is it poignant enough, whatever part it is that hits your sensitivity, to warm your eyes, to make them fill and spill over? Maybe not a lot. Certainly, not into s