November 21: The Run, Getting Ready, Giving to Caesar

Well, I went for a four-and-a-half to five-mile run yesterday evening.  I didn't feel like I was going to die by the end of it, so I think I'll be able to run that 10K on Thanksgiving without a problem.  I'll be slow, but I'll be able to finish, which is always my goal.  That and going to Burger King afterwards for breakfast.

Leaving the shepherds in my dust!

I've already spent a good half hour this morning dealing with Advent and Christmas worship issues, and I haven't even gotten to work yet.  That's what happens when you head up the worship team at a church.  I actually love dealing with worship issues, but now I'm running behind on some other things I need to get done.  Getting ready for the Christmas season always seems like a really long race.  It's the closest I will ever come to running a marathon.  This particular race (let's call it the Manger Meltdown Marathon 2011) won't be over until about noon on Christmas morning.

There's so much to get done in most people's lives at this time of year.  Christmas cards to mail.  Christmas letters to write.  Christmas presents to buy.  Christmas cookies to bake.  Christmas decorations to bring down from the attic and put up.

Yesterday, I had a little moment of panic reviewing of my list of things I need to accomplish before December 24.  It's my annual Christmas meltdown, and I haven't even reached Thanksgiving yet.  I've been listening to Christmas music since about the beginning of October, trying to get myself in the mood.

Jesus said something that always brings me up short when I'm in the middle of my holiday panic.  "Give to Caesar what belongs to him.  But everything that belongs to God must be given to God," He instructed us in the book of Matthew.  Those are words to live by at this time of year.  I should have them tattooed across my forehead.

All the tinsel and sugar cookies and shopping, these things belong to Caesar.  Jesus doesn't care if the light string you bought last year for the tree is burnt out.  That's Caesar's concern.  Jesus doesn't care if you burn two dozen oatmeal butterscotchies.  Caesar again.  Jesus doesn't care if you forget to send a card to Cousin Zach in Salt Lake.  Caesar, Caesar, Caesar.

What Jesus wants is for us to meet the shepherds and magi at the manger.  We don't need to bring a turkey or pecan pie.  We don't need an iPad or Nintendo DS to get there.  Give to Caesar what belongs to him.  But give to Jesus what belongs to Jesus:  our minds, our hearts, our lives.

That's what Saint Marty needs to remind himself every day in the coming weeks.