Chrismakuh or Hanumas?

For those who are curious about "what I am" (Jewish? Messianic? Christian?), I will attempt to answer, as best I can: Jewish by birth,Christian by rebirth. Along with that question "what are you?", others have come up regarding the holidays: what do I/we celebrate this time of year, and why?

Simply, I grew up in a Christian home, but had probably the most ecumenical experiences a Christian young person could have. Here is a nutshell chronology of my "religious" upbringing:

1)Age 5: I was baptized in a Baptist church, attended evangelical Christian school from grade 5-10 (and public schools the other years), with a few years at a Methodist church during my youth.
2) Age 6-10. My dad was ordained Baptist in Missouri, but the only job he could find in the Midwest was at a little United Methodist church in Alden, KS. The two best years of my childhood were spent there. I made two good friends, one who has been lifelong (Barb) and we talk every week. I loved watching my dad in his role as a pastor. He is gifted with a thirst for understanding scripture, he is compassionate, he gives good counsel when asked for it (but doesn't push), is not judgmental, and genuninely loves people.
3) Age 11-14 Back in Maryland, we attended Mt. Zion Methodist Church. Methodist charismatic was a big switch, but I loved it. Our youth leaders were Jim Lilley and his young wife, Sharon. Their daughter, Heather, was 3. Their ministry had a huge impact on me as a young teen. Their love for the Lord and His people was unmistakable. Nothing "churchy" about them. We now attend the same church (they for over 20, us for over 10).

4) Late teens: my family joined Calvary Baptist in Bel Air. I stayed there till I left for college. (Later Paul and I were married there. Twenty years ago this December 28th!)

5) For a short summer of my teens, my parents pushed my older sister and me to attend a Jewish youth group for a while. (Met on Saturdays, I think). I remember little about it except impressions: the kids were mostly rich snobs who never mentioned Jesus (except when cursing) and their lives seemed vain and empty.(No wonder.) Their "services" in the synagogue were formal and dull, but again, I loved the sound of Hebrew sung a capella. At their retreat Rachel and I attended, I saw mostly self-centered worldliness, and their mention of God was mostly in conjunction with either tradition or, again, cursing. I really felt like an outsider. I was. The only thing we had in common was our heritage and big noses. And our love of money, except they had a lot and we didn't.

On Sunday mornings I liked going to our Protestant church. In the evening, Episcopal youth group! Spirit-filled Pentecostal type Episcopalian services in God's country-- Darlington, Maryland, where I met a beautiful Christian girl named Kelly. She was the only believer in her family, until her older sister met the Lord. That's when I first came to get an understanding of genuine, daily life relationship with Jesus, outside my own home, through a couple of women at Grace Episcopal: Nan Connor, Bruce Muller-Thym. (Yes, a woman named Bruce.) I was also a singer in a band this youth group formed in the pastor's garage. We sang mostly Phil Keaggy music, which I love to this day. The leader was the pastor's son, full of sweet godliness. For a while I wanted to marry him.

6) Age 18: Got a good scholarship to a Catholic college in Greensburg, PA. Accepted it. I had no idea that Catholicism was so far removed from what I knew about grace and Jesus. The only time I went "to church" was to Mass was when I felt far from God--and guilty, or when I felt really near to God--and "good" or wanted to hear the Bible being read. (I never saw Catholic girls actually read the Bible, but they heard soundbites of the New Testament from priests.) I also loved the chants sung in Latin, also a language foreign to me that took on a beauty all its own when sung a capella. Great acoustics in the 200-year- old cathedral-like sanctuary only added to the magnificent sounds of music. At first I thought the girls who attended Mass on Saturday were more spiritual, as if they "couldn't wait" to get to church. I thought the slackers went on Sunday. Found out that most girls went to Saturday evening Mass, then partied all Saturday night at the men's college 20 minutes away, then slept in the next day, some hung over. "Doing church" and partying were commonplace. For them and me.

While I was in college, my mom was also --back in Baltimore--getting a master's in Hebrew Studies. I think God gives a lot of people a desire for a specific people group. For me it's the Chinese.I can't explain it. My mom has always had a love and desire for the Jews to know their Messiah. Her grandmother was Jewish but didn't practice her faith because of religious persecution. This grandmother died when my mom's mom (Tola) was only 9. Granny Tola's dad was now a single father raising many children. I don't know all the details, but do know Granny was put into a sort of group Masonic home (Masonic, not Messianic!) while her dad made a living on the road. No Judaism in a Masonic home, for sure!


7) AGe 19: Left Seton Hill after 2 years, homesick and sick of sin. (My own and everyone else's.) Came back to Maryland, got an apartment on 33rd Street in Baltimore with Kelly, my friend from Harford Christian/Grace Episcopal. She moved out after 3 months (country girl couldn't handle city life) but I stayed, found a church, met Paul. By then it was October of 1985. I was 20.



Well, this is getting too long. If you're still with me and asking, "Where does the Judaism come in?" then here it is. The Jewish line is passed down through the mother, back to Sarah and Abraham. So in that sense we are ALL Jewish. If you're a Gentile believer, then according to the Bible, you've been grafted in. ("Grafted in" is symbolized by the gold Messianic sign you can see hanging from the center of the wreath above. I made the wreath for my mom this year.) My parents started attending a Messianic congregation several years ago in Burtonsville, MD. That's a LONG way from where they live. After a while, they began to seek the Lord about forming a local congregation. My dad retired from the government (engineer for the US Army) a few years ago, and right away they planted Ain M'Chitzah (pronounced Ane Muh Heet suh). It means "No Dividing Wall" (between Jews and Gentiles).

They decided to abruptly stop celebrating Christmas as we knew it a few years ago. That hurt us a lot. In fact, it was so ugly I could barely rally my spirits to go over the day after Christmas. But my hubby convinced me that maybe I was the one too steeped in tradition. Maybe I was the legalist. You can be legalistic about the day and time of opening presents, and you're no better off than a Jewish legalist, a Catholic legalist, a Seventh Day Adventist legalist, a Protestant legalist, a New Age legalist. Having the identity of Christian doesn't mean you do holidays "right." I thought it did!

I am not about to abandon celebrating my Savior's birth any sooner than I'll abandon celebrating my Savior's death, resurrection, or ascension. Maybe we'll celebrate differently eventually, but my heart is toward Jesus, if I center it there, by His grace. We have a tree, presents on the 25th, no big dinner (not important to us) ,family over Christmas Eve from Paul's side. During this season ,like all other seasons, we worship Jesus ,thank HIm for coming to us in the flesh and atoning for our sins, not the least of which is legalism in every form. Truth be told, I'd rather make this season about giving gifts, and celebrate the coming of Christ in spring, which is Lambing season. Trying to smash it all together is quite a nutty game. Don't get me worng, I lvoe part of the nuttiness, but the blessing not the stressing kind of nuttiness! I would love to give and get eight gifts of any value, in 8 consecutive days in December. Then I would celebrate the coming of Christ in spring, when He was most likely born. Follow it with Passover, Resurrection, Ascension,and Pentecost. Call THOSE the "happy holidays" and bring gifts to the altar and spread them out to the needy. But I don't see that happening soon.

My parents have us over during Hanukkah. They still love to give gifts, still love to have us over to eat and play games. (We love dreidel now, sort of Jewish poker!) Their traditions are different, and I'm not altogether okay with change, but I am bending. If anyone has a tradition of embracing multiple traditions, it's my family (the one I grew up in). My own children are not as flexible. For better or worse, all they've known is two churches. I hope we're not making snobs of them. But at least they're doctrinally well-grounded and see genuine, daily love for the Lord being lived out around them.

That's all for now. I hope I answered the questions some of you have raised without boring you. ??

Have a Mary Christmas

The past few days I've been reading in John, chapters 8-12. In there is the account of Mary and Martha. I noticed that Martha didn't just run around when Jesus showed up at her house. That was sort of her Type A personality. She ran to meet Jesus after her brother Lazarus died. He was spending a couple extra days away, after being told Lazarus had died. He knew He'd resurrect Lazarus, so was in no hurry to interrupt the ministry in town that God had called Him to. After Martha ran to meet Him, she ran back to the house. Can't you just see her? And where was Mary? Sitting in the house. Martha handled stress by being busy. Mary handled it by resting.

The last several years I had treated the stress of Christmas the same way Martha did. Go, go, go. Run here, run there, wrap, shop, wrap, bake, run, party, bake, run, wrap, party. And that didn't include the biggest time-absorber for me: cards.

Every year I write a poem chronicling our family's highlights and lowlights throughout the year. I do it when the inspiration strikes, which can be anywhere between Nov 30th and December 2oth, give or take. I'd crop pictures for it, take it to Staples for 60 copies, hand address all 60 and mail them by Christmas, or intend to deliver a good third of them to church, only to foget to take them at the last opportunity. Then I realized no one was particularly fazed by not getting their card from me. Some asked, "Are you gonna write your family poem again?" And I realized that was anticipated by some people but certainly didn't shake up their routine in the least. So I sent them out after Christmas and you know what? I didn't melt like Frosty at 50 degrees. In fact, I remember a sense of relief, a huge feeling of "this is better than fine!"

That one small change in routine turned a Martha moment into a Mary one. That way, not only did I cut out the trip to the copier, spent precious time addressing envelopes, stamping them, filling the envelopes with both card and poem, I decided that adding a verse or two to the Chronicle meant I could include what our Christmas/Hanukkah celebrations actually entailed, which then becomes part of the year in review, so to speak, and goes into my scrapbook. Plus a lot of people say they look forward to having more cards come after the hubbub so they have time to appreciate them. I know I like to get cards after Christmas, too.

I don't care what Martha Stewart says. I'd rather be "Mary."

What are you changing this year to have a "Mary" Christmas?

Scott's Wreath

It meant a lot to me to be asked to make a wreath for the Bishops in memory of Scott.

I asked Donna what he liked, and she told me: nature, football, snow, all things Christmas, and Edgar Allan Poe. His football jersey number was 76 at Joppatowne High.

Donna asked for muted fall colors. Beyond that, she trusted me to design something special.

Then came a story of one answered prayer after another. While I'm planning the wreaths I make, I ask God for direction and creativity, and for help with the practicals if a certain component is proving hard to find. Well, I was on my way to Constant Friendship when God said "Try DJ's." (It's in the shopping center with Gabriel Brothers.) So I did. I walked in and described for the 18-19ish looking girl there what I was looking for and told her what I was making.

"I need a little football, something snowy, and something Christmasy. He loved Christmas." She led me straight to the little snowman you see on the wreath. He has a Ravens logo and a Ravens-colored scarf. As it that weren't enough, he is musical. You press the button underneath him and he plays a little Christmas tune. By the way,for those who might not recall, Edgar Allan Poe was a native Baltimorean and wrote a famous poem called "The Raven."

It was perfect. God had directed me to the perfect place for the perfect icon.
While I was talking to this same cashier at DJ's, she told me she had attended Joppatowne High and knew where I could get something else for the wreath: purple beads with helmets strung on them, from the latest pep rally. She even provided the name of a contact at the high school. I drove over there and Ms. Hendricks took me through the art room (where I tried not to gawk at the amazing talent displayed in charcoal drawings) straight to a room where these beads were. As soon as I spotted a purple helmet, I knew I had to have it. She gave me as many as I wanted for free. I practiced writing on a couple, but wasn't happy with them. Finally Paul wrote a good "76" on one of the helmets and I hot glued it on. (You can click on the photo to enlarge details.)

The little bird has such soft feathers. I kept stroking his wings and was reminded of Psalm 91 and the encouragement I've always gotten there. When all around you is only darkness, remember that you are under the shadow of His wing.

And the picture. Laurie posted this great picture of Scott with her post called "Brass Plaques." The colors of the photo were ideal and you can see twinkling lights in the background. Sacha laminated it for me so that it will withstand the weather at the cemetery.

Donna, thank you for trusting me with this special commission. I shed many a tear at my work station and prayed many a prayer that you would find comfort over and over. Truly God took pleasure in this labor of love. I'm so glad you like it.

Most Gorgeous Restaurant You've Ever Seen

These are just a few of the 37 tables that women of Chesapeake decorated for the Ladies' Christmas Breakfast. No two were alike, and all were a picture of love. Elegant, classy, creative, colorful, inviting. It's a good thing seats were assigned. Could you imagine if you had to pick your table once you got there? I won't pick favorites, but I can say that I think the two most creative tablescapes were done by Nicole Seitler and Emily Clancy. Nicole's table featured a paper village surrounding tall candles. Each cluster of "townhomes" is a 3-panel Christmas card, complete with curtains in the windows and doorknobs made from brads. Nicole made 7 sets like this using various scrapbook papers and ribbons, rubber stamps and lots of imagination and gave each away as a giftie to her guests.



Emily's tablescape was a sandy beach theme. Seashells and starfish, little message bottles, and a classic sea green table cloth and pretty dishes made her design a Christmas original. Good taste runs in the family. Her mom, Debbie Reyes, set an exquisite table of pinks, golds, and burgundy beauties. Karen Hevesy and Marybeth Hooever decorated a show-stopping table with purples and silvers. Diane Smith and her daughter Kristy and friend Robin did a fun-in-the-winter theme,complete with round mirror as an ice skating rink and ceramic bears skating arm-in-arm (next photo). Daryl decorated one in classic golds. I'm speechless that she would take on the decorating of a table along with the thousand other details she spends months planning.

There were plenty more tables I took pictures of, but not all 37 had been set when I was at church setting mine. I wish I had taken a table tour, but I was busy delivering wreaths. I hope other people got pictures for me!



This year we had 296 women, and about 2/3 were guests. It's one of my three favorite days of the year, I must say. I can't say enough good about it. If I start naming names of everyone who had a large part to play, I'd certainly forget someone. Everything was so well done.

My favorite parts of the day?
1) Seeing Diane there. She has been walking through the valley of the shadow of cancer since the spring and this was her first time back to church in about six months.
2) Having my next door neighbor there. She was so thrilled that I had invited her again this year. She wants to bring co-workers next year.
3) My friend Kathy came along, too. We've been friends for nearly 22 years. She was in my wedding.
4) Laurie's encouraging speech about Emmanuel, "God with us." It came on the heels of a sad, anxiety-filled evening that caused me to ask for your prayers.
5) Hearing nearly 300 women sing "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing!" in harmony. Doesn't get much better than that.
6) Giving Scott's memorial wreath to Donna. She had a good cry. I guess she liked it, she went around showing lots of people.