Theoretical physics. I can barely spell it, but those who call themselves theoretical physicists (and surely had no trouble in the fifth grade spelling bee) find very interesting things about our world. Sometimes I can even understand it though I might not comprehend it.

For instance, those theoretical physicists have come to see that the space between an atom’s nucleus (the middle, if I recall high school chemistry) and the outer wall of electrons is so "huge," that if you removed all the space in all the atoms in all the universe - the whole darn thing would be about the size of a sugar cube.

Truly, I understand, but I do not comprehend. But, according to theoretical physicists, that’s the facts. It may not make sense, but facts is facts.

That gets us to the Nativity of Our Lord (you didn’t think I was going to skip Christmas, did you?). Our understanding of the birth of Jesus is that all the power of the Creator (someone had to create the sugar cube, right?), all the magnificence of the Maker, all the omnipotent force of God (which is much, much bigger than even the universe) was poured into around six or seven pounds of flesh.

Truly, I understand, but I do not comprehend. It doesn’t make sense, but hey, here I am, being just like millions of others at Christmas. Awed, overwhelmed, stunned, amazed, confused. And singing "Gloria in excelsis Deo." (Glory to God on the highest).

May the power of God be born in your heart anew in these days of Christmas.

Christmas brings out the best in people. The season seems to unearth our generosity. We suddenly become more willing to put a few bucks in the red kettle or buy a gift for the Giving Tree.

Christmas also brings out all the non-profit organizations hoping to cash in on the season of generosity. I can only speak for myself, but I think this year will see more pieces of mail requesting funds than Christmas cards. I’m not kidding! I’m pretty sure that if we added up the numbers, solicitations would outpace salutations.

That’s not to say that these requests for funding help are not worthy and worthwhile organizations. In fact, I think the majority are good causes. I even think that while I drop them one after another into the trash. I had one last week that I held for three days before I realized I could not support it, and then I threw it out. I always feel the tickle of guilt as I consign them to oblivion (from which they shall rise like the Phoenix next year).

Now, having said that, let me throw a couple of more your way. I don’t think you will get these in the mail.

First, the ELCA’s Good Gifts program. In some ways similar to the well known Heifer Project, Good Gifts offers you a way to significantly help a ministry somewhere in the world. My wife and I will support the Augusta Victoria Hospital in Jerusalem again. There are many great projects on the list. I commend it to you.

Second, Lutheran Campus Ministry. LCM has been a mainstay of college campuses for 100 years, and it started right here at UW. Today our synod also counts UW-Platteville and UW-Whitewater as campus ministry sites. I can tell you that LCM has always been run on a string. But today, even the string is barely a thread. Be watching for more information about the upcoming centennial celebration and for ways you can support LCM.

Now, for a little humor from kids:

#1 Attending a wedding for the first time, a little girl whispered to her mother, "Why is the bride dressed in white?" "Because white is the color of happiness, and today is the happiest day of her life." The child thought about this for a moment, then said, "So why is the groom wearing black?"


#2 A little girl, dressed in her Sunday best, was running as fast as she could, trying not to be late for Bible class. As she ran she prayed, "Dear Lord, please don't let me be late! Dear Lord, please don't let me be late!"

While she was running and praying, she tripped on a curb and fell, getting her clothes dirty and tearing her dress. She got up, brushed herself off, and started running again!

As she ran she once again began to pray,"Dear Lord, please don't let me be late...But please don't shove me either!

Last week I spent some time in Salt Lake City helping with my new grandson. The airplane is a marvelous travel mode, isn’t it? My only question is this: Why do multi-million dollar planes all seem to have buck ninety-eight sound systems?

On the flight from Madison, the flight attendant did a very nice job of going through the safety procedures. At least from what I could see. The sound of her voice seemed to come through an old diode radio during a lightning storm. Later the captain voice welcomed us onboard. Actually, the only word I could make out was "welcome." I don’t have a clue what else he said for the next two minutes. As we began descending to Minneapolis, I think the pilot was telling us about the weather. I got better information by looking out the window.

I’m sure many of you have had the same experience. Between the speakers lips to my ears clarity is massacred by a poorly functioning delivery system.

Maybe we can say the same thing about listening to God’s word. With the Nativity of Our Lord just around the corner, we confess to the clarity of God’s voice in the baby born to Mary and Joseph. We believe that in Jesus, the unaccessible will of an omnipotent God becomes attainable to us humans.

So why do we still have such a hard time hearing this clear voice? I acknowledge Jesus is the clear voice of God, but I end up hearing garbled and confused messages. What did God say? I missed it. Could you understand what God just said?

The problem is the delivery system. Mary’s delivery system worked just perfectly in giving birth to Jesus. However, the delivery system of the word must pass through the electrical storm of my humanness. The priceless worth of being human is the very same buck ninety-eight sound system that distorts my makers words.

Oh well. Another issue to bring up with God in that time when the delivery system isn’t necessary anymore.

Keeping "Christ" in Christmas. I see the signs all over the place as if Jack Frost had forsaken window painting for sign dropping. So, good Lutheran that I am, I fall back into the catechetical habits of Brother Martin and ask, "What does this mean?"

If it means that we’re all going to throw a united tantrum because someone calls a big evergreen a "holiday tree" instead of a "Christmas" tree, than I think we’d better find a better meaning. If it means we scream foul when the school choir concert doesn’t sing primarily about Bethlehem and the baby Jesus, than I think we need to find a better meaning. In fact, if keeping Christ in Christmas is all about what somebody else does, than it’s time to start over.

I saw one of those signs in a store window. Next to it was a flyer for meeting Santa at a nearby department store. I’m sure the store has no expectation of selling anything to the parents of the dear kiddies who come for Santa’s lap (I’m being facetious). Calling people to a manger scene obviously doesn’t sell much.

Okay, so let’s say you keep Christ in Christmas. Then what? Can we dump Christ on December 26? How many people do you know who are still celebrating Christmas on January 5, the last day of the church designated Christmas season?

Truthfully, I’m not afraid of losing the Christ in Christmas to secular names for seasonal celebrations. I’m afraid we’ve already lost the Christ in Christmas to materialism, commercialism, television (and other electronic devices), and our infatuation with sports (it’s still only a game, folks). It’s hard to hear the angels announcing the birth of Jesus when all this other stuff is raging in my ears 24 hours a day and seven days a week (yes, seven days - the day of rest is long gone - somebody make a sign about keeping the Son in Sunday).

Anyway. Enough whining. Let’s put Christ into every moment of everyday - only then do the signs have merit.