Brrrr!

Brrrr! A cold front invaded Colorado yesterday and is expected to stay through Thursday. Colorado Springs recorded a new low temperature of -8 this morning. The weather prognosticators are blaming this cold weather on Canada. “An Arctic front has dropped down from Canada,” they say. Strange, I grew up in Canada and never heard anyone blame the U.S. for a sudden influx of warm, humid air.

Very little snow accompanied the dramatic change in our weather, but the drive to church yesterday was perilous. The highway from Colorado Springs to Penrose, where I am interim pastor, bobs and weaves through the foothills. Yesterday morning it was icy and snow packed, visibility was almost zero at times, and the temperature varied between 9 and 11. Accidents attested to the hazardous driving conditions.

The drive was worthwhile. Church attendance was better than I expected. The potluck after church was superb, and I had the privilege of baptizing three adults, three teenagers, and six children. You can better appreciate the faith of those twelve if you know I baptize by immersion. Getting wet all over on a bitterly cold day takes genuine faith, eh?

Our church is gearing up for Christmas. Next Sunday we will observe Communion, enjoy a choir concert, and a candlelight service. Oh yes, there will be a sermon, but it will be brief—kind of a Christmas present to the congregation.




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The Secret Holiday

Ssssh! It’s a secret. We are not supposed to mention the name of the holiday that falls on December 25. You see, the first syllable in its name offends secularists, atheists, and some religious groups. Mentioning the holiday’s name is politically incorrect, ixnay, verboten. So we display holiday decorations, string holiday lights, send holiday greetings, view holiday parades, attend holiday concerts, ship holiday packages, put up a holiday tree, hang holiday stockings by the chimney, make holiday travel plans, bake or buy holiday goodies, host holiday parties, take holiday breaks, and exchange holiday presents. We just don’t mention the holiday’s name.

While we are at it, we should change the lyrics of songs we sing at this time of year. How about?
I’m dreaming of a white holiday.
It’s beginning to look a lot like holiday.
Then one foggy holiday Santa came to say . . .
‘Twas the night before holiday, and all through the house . . .
I’ll be home for holiday.
It’s holiday time in the city.
Holiday is the best time of the year.
All I want for holiday is my two front teeth.

What’s next—removing Father Time from New Year’s? After all, he is gender specific, and that might offend . . . well . . . you know who.

Away with this political correctness! It’s enough to make me gag on my holiday cookies. I’m going to blurt out the secret. The holiday is Christmas!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!

© Jim Dyet