Santa, Aslan, Harry Potter, and God

It's C-day minus 6. Are the decorations up? Presents bought and wrapped? Meals planned? Cookies baked? Sugar-high children restrained?

In all the rush, has Christ gone missing again?

You might want to make a pot of spicy tea, settle down in an overstuffed chair, and read a fairy tale.

That approach would make sense to Tony Woodlief, a management consultant and writer who, in his wonderful op-ed piece in yesterday's Wall Street Journal (thanks, Molly, for the tip), pits Chesterton, Lewis, MacDonald, Rowling, and St. Paul against "puritans and atheists" who prefer their truth straight up.

St. Paul?

There's "a seeming paradox in St. Paul's letter to Roman Christians," Woodlief writes:

"For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made. . . ." How does one see "invisible attributes"? Only people raised on fairy tales can make sense of that. It belongs in a terrain where magic glasses can illumine what was heretofore hidden, where rabbit holes open into wonderlands. No wonder some atheists like Mr. Dawkins want to kill Harry Potter.

Many years ago my daughter Heidi was walking home from school when she overheard this earnest exchange between two first-graders walking a few paces behind her:

First Child: Did you know that there are people who don't believe in God?
Second Child: That's nothing. I know people who don't believe in Santa Claus!

That child would be in her thirties now. I hope she still believes in magic.

Tapas vs tuna noodle casserole

Yesterday Mr Neff wrote about the value of small. Confidentially, I thought his article could have been smaller. But I really liked these paragraphs. Maybe because they involve food.

* * * * * * * * * *

From "A Perfect Pearl: A small gospel can be a beautiful thing" by David Neff

Last January, Mark Labberton began this final series of Christian Vision Project essays by comparing the gospel many of us live by to a bland bowl of lima beans. "Many have the impression," he wrote, "that the gospel is small, smooth, and tasteless."

When I re-read Labberton's essay, I began to think of a different kind of "small" food. I thought of tapas, the small portions of intensely flavored dishes that have long served as appetizers in Spain. Over the last quarter century they have become an entire cuisine in some American restaurants. The first time friends invited me to a tapas restaurant, I was not intrigued. It was the 1980s, and American culture still celebrated the all-you-can-eat buffet. The idea of going to a restaurant to eat small portions didn't seem special to me. But my first tapas bites were a revelation. An epiphany. The intense tastes of garlic or cumin or chilies brought such a rush of flavor that it reoriented my whole approach to eating. This was food that could not be wolfed down unthinkingly, like the 1950s American cuisine of my youth: tuna noodle casserole, Jell-O salad, mashed potatoes. These little dishes demanded that I nibble slowly, chew thoughtfully, and savor.

Hear the parable of the tapas menu. God offered us something that could have been small, obscure, and forgettable. He didn't offer us some grand universal principle. His gift was the life and death (and resurrection!) of just one person in a small country repeatedly crushed and occupied by foreign powers. He does not give us love or peace or brotherhood. He gives us Jesus, who died like a common criminal.

But when we pay attention to the small thing God gives us, it changes our entire approach to life. We see the world differently. What had seemed insignificant now demands our full attention. What had seemed ordinary now seems interesting. What had seemed a dead end now promises great potential—the redemption of the whole world.

(c) 2008 by David Neff
Used without the author's permission or even awareness

Vinita Hampton Wright on presents and presence

Vinita Hampton Wright is a dear friend, publishing colleague, and exceptionally wise woman. She is the author of many books, fiction and nonfiction, including the just-released Days of Deepening Friendship: For the Woman Who Wants Authentic Life With God.

This article by Vinita will be posted on Loyola Press's web site next week. It's a wonderful meditation on Christmas joy in a crumbling economy.

*****************************************************

Presence in the Midst of Crisis

Of all times for the financial health of the world to end up in Intensive Care—just as the holidays entice us to splurge, to buy a little beyond ourselves because gift-buying and gift-giving are expressions of care, appreciation, even remembrance. We bake richer foods at Christmastime. And wrap things in shinier paper. And we like to spend a little more, just because this time is special. It is a time for feasting and lingering. It is a time for extravagance.

There is some justification for extravagance at this time of year. We are celebrating the love of an extravagant God. The Christ Child is the ultimate gift. God’s love is lavish, overflowing. God did not hold back from us, in sending Jesus, the son of God. In that birth we were given God’s very self.

And so, this year in which money is especially the focus of stress and strategy, perhaps we should think in terms of giving the self instead of stuff. God gave God’s self in fairly plain wrapping—the infant of two pilgrims with limited resources. No fine blankets or silky bassinet for Jesus. No huge basket of Ghirardelli’s chocolate treats for his parents. But the presence of that child was so rich and fine that poor shepherds, great intellects from far countries, a pious widow, and an old prophet were all drawn to him with tears and joy.

What kind of presence am I to those I love? If I can’t give a hefty gift certificate or even a nice set of bathroom towels this year, how can I be more present to that person for whom I’ve been willing to pull out an overextended credit card in years past? If I can offer no great cash value, then what is left? My stories? My welcome? My precious time for a phone conversation? My visit that lasts longer than it takes to exchange wrapped boxes?

This has been a stressful autumn for my husband and me. Unemployment, then underemployment, then major house repairs, and family too far away to travel to easily. And what we are discovering is that, to come home in the evening and eat a simple meal together, to give a long hug and a word of encouragement, to spend a little more time with our dogs and cats doing nothing but petting and cooing—all of that is lavish enough for us. There will be no expensive dining out this year, no big party thrown for friends. There will be cooking together in the kitchen, looking for the best price on clementines. There will be one trip to a family wedding and brief stops at other relatives on the way back. On each stop we will enter the home and be there with smaller gifts but a bigger sense of us—us coming in the door, giving hugs, having a relaxed conversation, enjoying the presence of those we don’t get to see very often.

We tend to forget, don’t we, that God’s presence is enough. God’s grace is sufficient. We forget that and follow after the big pay-off, the nicer car, the gadget that will make life more convenient, the vacation that will be more romantic and exotic than all the others. We hanker after finer and pricier presents, when the only answer to our real desire is that awesome Presence.

This Christmas seems like a great time to spend more time in that Presence. And more time exploring the power and wonder of our own presence with others.

(c) 2008 Vinita Hampton Wright
Used by permission

Home cooking and love

Like other forms of human affection, cooking delivers its truest and most enduring gifts when it is savored in intimacy — prepared not by a chef but by a cook and with love.

--Marcella Hazan, New York Times, "No Chefs in My Kitchen"

Once upon a time, restaurants lured customers with promises of "home-cooked" meals, food just like Mother used to make. But nowadays we Americans spend nearly half of our food dollars in restaurants, and home cooks now want to imitate professional chefs.

• "No need to leave home, make reservations, and go out," says www.copykat.com. "You can make recipes that taste just like the restaurant without ever having to leave home."
• Buy lots of (expensive) equipment and you can cook "Just Like in a Restaurant Kitchen," suggests Sara Levine in the Washingtonian.
• Google "restaurant taste" + frozen and you'll find a plethora of prepared foods to make your meals (to quote my father-in-law) "just like downtown only not so crowded."
  

Apparently it's not just the high-end restaurants that home cooks are dying to emulate. In Top Secret Restaurant Recipes: Creating Kitchen Clones from America's Favorite Restaurant Chains Todd Wilbur tells you how to copy food from IHOP, Olive Garden, Pizza Hut, Dennys ...

O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that.

--King Lear

Marcella Hazan to the rescue! Restaurant food, she writes, is entertainment. Home cooking is something else:

I am my family’s cook. It is the food prepared and shared at home that, for more than 50 years, has provided a solid center for our lives. In the context of the values that cement human relations, the clamor of restaurants and the facelessness of takeout are no match for what the well-laid family table has to offer. A restaurant will never strengthen familial bonds.

Enjoy your turkey leftovers at home, with someone you love.

A very material Christmas

At least 100,000 nonprofits nationwide will be forced to close their doors in the next two years as a result of the financial crisis, according to Paul Light, professor of public service at New York University. The dire prediction was made Wednesday at a forum on the impact of the crisis on nonprofits and social service delivery in New York City.

--crain's new york business, 19 November 2008

One December years ago while dispiritedly shopping for Christmas presents, I suddenly realized what Marshall Fields's Musak was playing:

"If I were a rich man (ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum) ..."

I suppose they were trying to set the mood.

Well, the mood this year is indigo, or darker, and decisions must be made. Should Christians celebrate the Nativity with schadenfreude, rejoicing that, after decades of manic spending, Americans may this year reject materialism in favor of the season's true meaning? Or should patriotic Americans (who are still employed) gather their credit cards and spend as much as they possibly can in a last-ditch attempt to rescue the economy?

There's a way to resolve this dilemma, but few there be that find it.

First, let's get one thing straight: the true meaning of Christmas is not about spirit. It has little to do with the vague goodwill that carolers and eggnog are supposed to produce, and even less to do with mystical piety or disembodied spirituality. Christmas--the incarnation ("becoming flesh"--meat, as in chili con carne)--is about a God who loves the material world so much that he becomes part of it.

In the Hebrew scriptures, this God is described as favoring lovemaking, babies, feasts, and comical animals well before the Christian scriptures add that he was born in a barn, became a healer, and earned a reputation for his taste in food and wine. The true meaning of Christmas is about God's love for the material world--so no guilt trips about buying presents and having a great dinner, okay?

Then should we try to rescue retailers by grabbing our credit cards and charging out on another out-of-control Christmas spending spree ($460 billion in 2007)? Here's an alternate idea, one that simultaneously honors the material side of Christmas and helps the economy:

Go out and buy to your heart's content, but give a percentage of what you spend to someone who really needs it.

The economy doesn't care what you do with that thing you bought. You can give it to a coworker who will thank you politely and then put it on a shelf in the basement. You can give it to a teenager who will return it for something much cooler. You can give it to a child who will be confused about its origin because it's one of approximately 98 gifts she got this year. Or you can give it to someone who is out of work or homeless or hungry or cold.

Alternately, you can give the value of the gift--a percentage of your Christmas budget--to an agency that knows who needs help and is equipped to provide it.

How high should the percentage be? To put the $460 billion spent on Christmas last year in perspective, look at the revenues of several major relief organizations:

• American Red Cross, $5.8 billion
• Feeding America (formerly America's Second Harvest), $676 million
• Catholic Charities USA, $148 million
• Children's Defense Fund, $18 million
• Northern Illinois Food Bank, $30 million

Total of these five charities, $6.7 billion. That's less than 1.5% of what we spent on Christmas presents last year.

Imagine what would happen to the economy--and to human happiness--if we donated a full 10% of our Christmas spending ($46 billion! the equivalent of eight Red Crosses!) to people in need. Perhaps some to a national organization that responds to emergencies, some to a local organization where we might volunteer time as well as money. (The next post, "What to get the Neffs for Christmas," tells how to find the agency of your dreams.)

The thing is, most of us could do this so easily. Even during a recession. And without giving up presents or carols or a good Christmas dinner.

What to get the Neffs for Christmas

Long lines, empty shelves and Thanksgiving chickens are just a few symptoms of the economic downturn's effect on food banks and community pantries across the country. People are turning to charitable organizations for their Thanksgiving meal this year in record numbers, while donations have dropped significantly and funding has been slashed. Charity organizers across the country say the lagging economy has forced individual donors to keep money to themselves, while businesses that usually donate are struggling to stay afloat.

(CNN, 25 November 2008)

Memo to anybody who is wondering what to get Mr Neff or me for Christmas this year: We love you and are grateful that you are thinking about us, but we already have so many books that our house is beginning to sink, so many calories that our pajamas are getting tight, and so many attractive objects stored in our basement that the furnace maintenance guy no longer knows where to squat and set his toolbox.

We think this would be a fine year to help those struggling charitable organizations.

But since we don't want to wake up in the middle of the night worrying if you still love us, could you just send us an email (or a comment on this blog post) wishing us a happy Christmas and telling us you love us so much that you contributed to [fill in the blank]? That would make us feel warm and useful.

If you're wondering who would best use your donation, check out Charity Navigator. There you can browse for charities by category, location, size, and rating. You can see if your favorite charity earned the coveted four stars--and if not, why not. You can find out what percentage of moneys raised actually goes to charitable projects, and what percentage goes to administration and fund-raising. You can see how much the CEO earns, and what percentage of total revenue that salary represents.

You can browse for articles, such as "Top 10 Best Practices for Savvy Donors" and "Tips for Giving in Times of Crisis." Once you've found a charity you want to support, Charity Navigator even offers the option of donating online.

In this time of financial feelings ranging from uncertainty to despair, we prefer donating to organizations that

• have a 4-star rating, indicating that they use their funds as advertised and have a sound financial base
• specialize in human services, including food distribution, housing, and help for children
• channel over 95% of donated funds to their intended use (a far higher percentage than is required for the 4-star rating, but we want the most bang for our buck)
  
• serve either nationally or in the Chicago area, where we live

Catholic Charities USA makes the grade, as do Feeding America and the Northern Illinois Food Bank. The American Red Cross is close. So that's our Christmas wish list (but feel free to surprise us). And please, let us know about your wish list in return.

Tiggy and Muffin brainstorm about the First Dog

Mrs Tiggy-Winkle ("Tiggy," on the right) and Miss Wagamuffin ("Muffin," on the left) have some advice for the Obama girls. It is based on about eight years' experience of being dogs. Here is what they have to say:

Dogs are wonderful! Every family should have one! A dog is a girl's best friend! May we sit on your lap? Can we go for a walk? Will you give me a treat? Why are you just sitting there when you could be throwing a toy for me to chase?

But seriously, girls--all puppies are adorable. If a hundred puppies gathered in your backyard, you could easily fall in love with all of them. Choosing the right one for years of happiness, though, takes a little thought. Here are some things we hope you'll think about.

1. We dogs usually depend on the mom. We think she's our mom, too, and we like to follow her around and ask her for things. (Lap? Walk? Treat? Toy?) Be sure to choose a dog your mom wants to spend plenty of time with.

2. We plan to live 14, 16, even 18 years. When you adopt a dog, you are making a long-lasting commitment. Your puppy will probably still be in your family when you leave to go to college, when you get your first job, when you get married. This is another reason to choose a dog that your mom is crazy about. You want that dog to be there when you come home to visit!

3. We know you are thinking carefully, because you realize you need a low-allergy dog. We found a list of low-allergy dogs here. We like the list, because between the two of us we represent four of the ten breeds mentioned: yorkie and schnauzer (Tiggy), poodle and shih-tzu (Muffin). The other low-allergy breeds are maltese, portuguese water dog, soft-coated wheaten terrier, lhasa apso, irish water spaniel, and kerry blue terrier.

4. We like your idea of getting a cross-breed (we are cross-breeds, and we are just about perfect!). Cross-breeds are often healthier than purebred dogs. If you get a purebred dog, though, you'll be OK if you get it from a very careful, responsible breeder. The Humane Society has recommendations on how to find a responsible breeder.

5. We hear you are favoring goldendoodles. They are lovely dogs with good dispositions. But watch out--you may be allergic to the golden half. Portuguese water dogs and soft-coated wheaten terriers look a bit like goldendoodles, but might be better for your allergies. Or you might want a cross-breed that includes two low-allergen dogs.

6. Are you sure you want a big dog? We have to ask this, because we are little dogs--and as we have explained, we are wonderful. People with allergies often need to bathe their dogs once or twice a week. Our mom puts us in the kitchen sink and uses a sprayer to rinse us. Bathing us doesn't take long at all, even though she carefully cleans up the sink with bleach and disinfectant afterwards (she wanted us to tell you this, in case you ever come to our house for dinner). If we weighed 50 pounds, our baths would be a much bigger production.

7. Also, big dogs need a lot of outdoor exercise. We love our walks, and when the outside temperature is above 40 degrees, our mom walks us a couple of miles a day. But when it's raining or terribly windy or cold--you're from Chicago, you know what we mean--we stay inside and run up and down the stairs for exercise. We can do this because we weigh 10 and 13 pounds. Are you willing to take your dog for long walks or playtimes outside in all weathers? And have you noticed that people who take big dogs for walks have to carry really big plastic bags?

8. Have you thought about how you are going to train your puppy? He or she will need to go to doggy school or to work out with a personal trainer. Some people think medium-sized or big dogs are easier to train than we littler ones. Hey, it sure is necessary to train those big guys--you don't want a 90-pound doofus that jumps on visitors, especially if the visitors are heads of state! But we little dogs need training too. We love to work for treats.

9. Be sure to get a dog who likes to do what you like to do. I (Muffin) am a lap dog. It is my calling in life. If there's a lap, I sit on it. If there's a face, I kiss it. I like to play now and then, but most of the time I'd rather just sit on you and adore you. On the other hand, I (Tiggy) am a terrier. I can't help myself--if I see something unusual, I bark. If I see something little and furry, I chase it. If I see an overstuffed chair, I dig a hole in it. This is what I do. My mom loves me anyway because I'm cheerful, good-hearted, playful, and sweet. We (both of us) want you girls to find a dog that likes to do what you want to do. And what your mom can tolerate (see points 1 and 2). And it would be good if the dog didn't bite reporters...

10. People are talking about whether you should get a puppy or an older dog. We came to our happy home when we were past puppyhood. I (Tiggy) had lived with someone who said he had "too many dogs." Silly man, he didn't have me spayed. What did he expect would happen? When I was about to give birth, he took me to the pound. I might have died there, but a rescue group found me and gave me and my puppies a temporary home for a couple of months. Then I moved to my present home. I (Muffin) got lost. I lived on the streets of Chicago until somebody found me and took me to the pound. Then I was moved to another pound. A rescue group found me there, and from there I was moved to my present home. We (both of us) think that it's wonderful when people rescue older dogs and give them a chance at happiness. On the other hand, if a responsible, caring family like yours had taken us when we were puppies, we would never have had those scary experiences. So it's OK if you get a rescued dog, and it's OK if you get a puppy from a responsible breeder. The important thing is to give your dog a permanent, loving home.

We are eager to see pictures of your new dog. Or dogs. Two girls, two dogs--makes sense to us. Talk to your mom!