In the culture, these days are full of let-down. The presents have all been opened. The much-anticipated visits of loved ones flash past and then it's time for them to go home. As Peggy Lee famously sang, "Is that all there is?"

For those who are celebrating Christmas according to the liturgical calendar, though, these are days of a quiet joy. I am writing on the third day of Christmas. These are days that are more relaxed than most. (Even those who have to work find themselves with less to do because so many others are taking these days off!) There is time to be contemplative during these days of Christmas: to pray about the miracle of God becoming human flesh, to be open to the God's intimate presence that comes from that.

I am reading a book Patty gave me for Christmas. It's the most thought-provoking book I've read in a long, long time: The Year of Living Biblically, by A. J. Jacobs. The book is Jacob's fascinating account of spending a year trying to live according to the more than 700 laws and rules in the Bible! To excerpt from his own words:

"Millions of Americans say they take the Bible literally. According to a 2005 Gallup poll, the number hovers near 33 percent; a 2004 Newsweek poll put it at 55 percent. A literal interpretation of the Bible -- both Jewish and Christian -- shapes American policies on the Middle East, homosexuality, stem cell research, education, abortion -- right down to rules about buying beer on Sunday.

"But my suspicion was that almost everyone's literalism consisted of picking and choosing. People plucked out the parts that fit their agenda, whether that agenda was to the right or left. Not me. I thought, with some naivete, I would peel away the layers of interpretation and find the true Bible underneath. I would do this by being the ultimate fundamentalist. I'd be fearless. I would do exactly what the Bible said, and in so doing, I'd discover what's great and timeless in the Bible and what is outdated."

The book is often laugh-out-loud funny. And just as often, Jacobs writes something that makes me stop and think, "Wow. I've never thought about that in that way before." As one of the reviewers of the book puts it: "A.J. Jacobs has perceived the distinction between the wisdom of the Bible and its absurdities. It is a shame that so many of both our clergy and or politicians seem incapable of making that distinction."

I'm enthusiastic about the book. (Have you picked up on that?) I think everyone should read it. It's a rare combination: it's incredibly enjoyable and it's real important!

I opened my office e-mail account this morning and found 144 e-mails waiting for me. One hundred-forty of them were spam. Geez-Louise!

Eureka! Verily, verily I say unto you: I have discovered the secret to life.

It is to do one thing at a time.

I have been doing this for the past two weeks, since coming across the Gerald May quote (please re-read the blog entry for December 10). And I have never before been so relaxed two days before Christmas Eve.

It is important to decide what are the most important tasks to accomplish on a particular day. Do the most important thing first, with attentiveness. When you have finished with that, then do the next-important -- again, with attentiveness. If you are interrupted in your work (by a child, a co-worker, a parishioner, on the phone or in person), give your attentiveness to that person for the few minutes of the conversation. Don't worry about the other thing to be done. It will still be there when you finish the conversation. (And there is always the possibility that the interruption may be more important than the other work you were doing! You can discern that through your attentiveness.) If you only have a limited amount of time to do what you are doing, before another obligation, set your electronic watch or a timer for the minutes you have available. That way you aren't having to watch the clock, which causes anxiety. You can be calm and attentive to what you are doing, until it is time to do the next thing.

In my spiritual reading, I had come across this approach many times. The teaching to do one thing at a time, with attentiveness, is all through the Benedictine tradition of Christianity and Zen Buddhism. It truly is a spiritual practice. It's just that I had never seriously tried it! But, two weeks ago, it seemed the perfect time, with the work load leading up to Christmas, and the anxiety that that was causing me.

While doing one thing at a time, I have received several significant learnings.

First, when I discipline myself to do the the most important thing first, then the next-most important thing, then the next, etc., I find there is time to do what really needs to be done during a day!

Second, when I practice this, I feel freed from the terrible feeling that there is not enough time. (What causes you to feel that way? Isn't it when you're doing something, but you're really anxious about the other stuff that needs to get done? So, at the end of the day, even when it turns out that you have indeed accomplished all that you needed to do that day, all the time you have been anxiously working as if there isn't enough time! Right?)

Third, I am able to give attention to each person I talk to during the day. I'm able to enjoy each person! (Christ comes to us in the other person.)

Fourth, I am able to keep perspective. The work I was not able to get to today? I'll get to it -- by scheduling it for another day, according to its importance.

Now, I'll stop writing this. Today will be a big, joyful day, if I can avoid being anxious about all that needs t be done! All four of our children (I include a daughter-in-law and a fiance in that count!) are arriving at lunch time, and Patty's parents and sister and her daughter are coming over for dinner. So, this morning, while Patty does her magic in the kitchen, I must straighten up the clutter, and then dust, and then vacuum, and then clean the bathrooms, and then ...

One thing at a time!

'Tis the season -- for grinding it out. That's true for pastors, at least. Last week I finished the sermon early for the coming Sunday, December, 16, so that I could get getting started on the sermon for Sunday, December 23. I spent this past Friday (usually a day off) writing most of the first draft of that one. Yesterday I finished it, so that I could get started today on the sermon for Christmas Eve. By the end of the morning I have an idea of what to say, so I can spend this afternoon making homebound communion visits. Tomorrow I'll begin the writing of the Christmas Eve sermon.

Sermon writing and hearing is a process of human energy (or fatigue!) and how the Holy Spirit can move through the words that are spoken. In fact, I am constantly surprised by what the Spirit can do with the words I produce. Sometimes I finish the sermon writing process thinking it's come out pretty well. Other times, I finish something I don't think is much good, and think, "Well, that's the best I can do this week." That was certainly true with the sermon for this past Sunday, December 16. But it happened again: as I spoke a sermon that I didn't think much of, the Spirit was working through the words for several people who surprised me. They told me how important the words had been for them that morning!

Preaching and listening are such a dynamic interplay of the Holy Spirit! We talked about that last night in the prayer study group. One member of the group said that she's often been struck by a sermon, and has eagerly awaited the printed copy -- but then, when she reads it days later, she wonders what was so important about it! The reality is that, when she heard the preacher's words, the Holy Spirit spoke to her at that time and in that place, through the words, and through what she was thinking and experiencing. It turns out, on later reading, that the preacher's words themselves were not timeless or particularly profound! What was happening was what the Spirit was causing to happen in the communication event.

All of this is a source of great grace for me. Even when I finish the several-days-long process of writing a sermon and I am less than satisfied, I can still present it as an offering to God the Holy Spirit. I can pray, "Well, I've done the best I can, and it's not much good. Even so, would you do something with it when the worshipers hear it?"

A couple of days ago I had 20 minutes with nothing to do! Instead of doing what I would usually do -- starting a new task (that probably would have taken 25 minutes to complete, so I would've been pressed for time again!) -- I pulled down an old book from the shelf, of Advent meditations. I thought I would open myself up to one of them.

I only got as far as the author's introduction before the subject of my meditation caught me! The author dated his introduction, "Advent, 1982." And that made me stop and think and remember and contemplate. In Advent of 1982, Patty was three months pregnant with the child who would become our Emily -- headstrong and compassionate and willing to take risks and loving. Emily, who would become drum major in high school (for two consecutive years! Unprecedented!); who would graduate with honors from James Madison University with a piano performance degree; who would be now be working in Manhattan for an artist's management agency, including making arragements for the Julliard String Quartet when they are on tour; who, God willing, is just at the beginning of what will come! In Advent, 1982, there was no way we could have even begun to know what this pregnancy would become.

But isn't every moment pregnant with the future? In fact, God is always bringing something new into being! It is a matter of watching for what is being created, in an attitude of hope. This is Advent practice.

Boy is this good! This is in the new issue of the Virginia Lutheran, written by Pastor Gary Erdos of St. Mark, Yorktown.

"Coming Back To Church For Christmas"

Most of us seem to have a love/hate relationship with the time that leads up to Christmas. The lights, the decorations, the music, the festive mood of people in general, the food and parties as well as the gifts all work to put a smile on our faces.

But none of these things come for free, figuratively and literally. December is loaded with stresses and strains most of us choose to ignore if we cannot do away with them; there is the emotional draining, the physical exhaustion and the general draining of cash from our bank accounts that all leave us feeling pretty empty (except for the five pounds we gain from all the cookies we eat, leaving us feeling pretty snug in our pants!).

I don't know if you've noticed, but Christmas is not like the movies, books, songs and neighbors seem to make it out to be. The possibility for disappointment is great. The likelihood of exhaustion is almost total. Almost all of us vow to make changes in how we deal with Christmas and almost none of us do.

In church, we almost seem schizophrenic, which really means we reflect the world around us. We want to have religion in the holiday season, yet we want to celebrate all of the pagan rituals that go along with the season. Santa at the manger? Come on, now. Preachers will all tell you you're too materialistic, but we like our presents, too. And it feels like we all compete with the parish down the street to put on the best show.

In many ways, it seems ironic that we surround the celebration of the Nativity of our Lord with all of this. In some bizarre way, I think it proves we need him. We are all looking for salvation and happiness in a world we try to construct on our own terms. We think we can buy happiness and it always seems someone has more than we do and it makes us mad.

Happiness/Salvation is only one more gift /card/cookie/party away. We surround the gift of the presence of the Holy One with all of our own stuff, our own agendas, our own world. It's almost as if we're trying to say we really don't need him.

But, strangely, we keep coming back to church for Christmas. Even people who don't come any other time will come at Christmas. It is almost as if we hope something religious, something transcendent, something spiritual will happen to us. A friend gave me a quote from Harry Reasoner a few Christmases back that said, "So if a Christian is touched only once a year, the touching is still worth it, and maybe on some given Christmas, some quiet morning, the touch will take." Maybe that's what a lot of our holiday stuff is about-we're trying get touched.

I'll make a deal with you: I'll pray for you and your safe passage through the "holiday season" and that somehow Jesus will touch you in this time. Pray for me too, that I'll make it to the end, to Christmas day with you.

By 7:00 this morning, I had my outline written, for my sermon for The Epiphany of Our Lord. Yes, the Epiphany. No, it's not until January 6 (a Sunday this year). No, I don't really know what I'll say during the preaching for Christmas Eve, or Advent 4. (I do have an outline for this Sunday's sermon!)

But that's how creativity happens. It's not according to a schedule. It's a gift received from the Holy Spirit. This morning, for instance, I was reading an article in one of my journals, on the theme of Advent; I was praying and thinking about what I was reading; and the first sentence simply came to my mind for the Epiphany sermon: "Finally, today, the 'wise men' show up." The outline came easily after that. What a gift!

All of us are creative. Sadly, not all of us are conscious of that! And fewer of us are conscious that our creativity is a gift from the Holy Spirit, most easily received through prayer. (Those in the two prayer study groups have been spending these past two weeks conscious of this in their own lives.)

Have you noticed that for a prelude or postlude, our excellent new Director of Music, Michael Monaco, often plays improvisations that he composes, on one of the hymns he has chosen for that morning's worship? This past Sunday a worshiper asked, "How do you know what to play?" Michael responded, "I pray."

Open yourself to your own creativity! Creativity becomes prayer!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll get on with my morning. My chief task is to write the sermon for Advent 3!!

There's too much to do! It just seems overwhelming! You start something, but you haven't finished the three other things you started during the day, and that adds to the stress you're feeling, and you feel like tearing your hair out, and...

If you're feeling that way, here are some helpful words from Gerald May's book, The Awakened Heart. (Gerry May was a psychiatrist who died much too young two years ago, of cancer. He was on the faculty of the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation, where I learned how to offer one-on-one spiritual guidance. Gerry was a Christian who learned a lot from Zen Buddhism.) In the words below, he refers to "consecrated Zen." The Zen practice is "mindfulness," which he describes. (Of course, this is a practice in the Christian tradition too! St. Benedict taught it as "being present" to the work you are doing.)

Try a little consecrated Zen.

Do one thing at a time, with complete, immediate mindfulness.

Don't do it to get it done so you can get on to the next thing.

Do it for love.

Do it fully, sensitively, openly.

Do it now.

Then do the next thing.

The scene: Yesterday, at the desk to check out after my appointment with my doctor in Norfolk. I waited for the woman to process my paperwork, her desk covered with other paperwork that nearly covered up her computer keyboard and mouse and phone. She set up my next appointment, and then affixed even more paperwork to what Dr. Flenner had given me, so I could get my lab work done. Hardly looking up, harried, seeming to be entirely distracted, she said, "Happy Holidays."

"Merry Christmas," I responded.

She stopped. She looked up and she said, "Thank you. I appreciate that!"

Then I went around the corner for the blood work that's required everytime I have an appointment with Dr. Flenner. (The anti-fungal medication is dangerous to the kidneys and liver, so he always wants blood work done to check how those organs are functioning.) The technician stuck her needle into my arm. That's never a pleasant thing!

"Did you get it?" I asked.

She said, "Sure did!"

I told her, "I remember one time, soon after getting out of the hospital, going to the hospital in Williamsburg, and they stuck one arm and couldn't find a vein and then they stuck the other arm and couldn't find a vein, and they had to stick the first arm again to finally got it done. Since then I pray that you'll get the vein on your first stick."

She said, "God answers prayer!"

I felt so good, after those two "witnessing" conversations -- using the most gentle of religious language, and receiving those responses from two people who turned out to be people of faith as well! (Both were African Americans. For the past 30 years, since working in an African American congregation on the south side of Chicago during seminary, I've found that African Americans are much more likely to use faith language than white folks.)

Ah -- 'tis the season. The Christmas cards sit in their boxes, waiting to be written. Family members pester me for more ideas because my Christmas gift list is not long enough. (Where's that ELCA alternative gift catalogue?) I haven't started my Advent visits to take Holy Communion to the homebound folks. We met as a church staff yesterday to talk about Christmas Eve service bulletins, and the panic hit me that Christmas Eve is less than three weeks away!! Meanwhile, I needed to be away this past Monday and Tuesday for an overnight Synod gathering of first-call pastors and their mentors. (How in the world did I get to be "wise" enough to be a mentor??) And this morning will be taken up driving to and from Norfolk for an appointment with my infectious disease doctor. (Thank God for compatible software that enables me to work on my sermon at home, in the wee morning hours, in my pajamas, since I'm not able to be in the office this morning!) And when will I find the time to do the two reports I still need to write and to get into Council members' mailboxes by Sunday for next week's meeting, and to plan this Sunday morning's adult session and this Sunday night's Affirmation of Baptism instruction?

The fact is, at this time of year, there is not enough time to get done all that needs to be done!

So I practice Advent. I can only do the best I can. I remember that when I stop in the midst of the frenzy. When I pray. When I watch for what is so easy to miss: what God is bringing into being, in fulfillment of God's promises.