Christmas is the Disneyfication of Christianity

Christmas is the Disneyfication of Christianity

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace;
East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease;
read more

Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace;
East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease;
Sing the song of great joy that the angels began,
Sing the glory to God and of good-will to man!

He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree.

He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree.

My Christmas present to myself each year is to see how much air travel can open up the world and read more

My Christmas present to myself each year is to see how much air travel can open up the world and take me to places as far from sheltered California and Japan as possible.

I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the read more

I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the message of Christmas. We are never alone. Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the world seemingly most indifferent. For this is still the time God chooses.

'Twas the night before Christman, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,--not even a mouse:
read more

'Twas the night before Christman, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,--not even a mouse:
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

Hail to the King of Bethlehem,
Who weareth in his diadem
The yellow crocus for the gem
read more

Hail to the King of Bethlehem,
Who weareth in his diadem
The yellow crocus for the gem
Of his authority!

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, we hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, read more

When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, we hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, and etched on vacant places are half-forgotten faces of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know.