Category: Christmas

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6 Reasons to give books this Christmas

1. The beach, the barbie and a book speak summer. For those in the other hemisphere, get cosy by the fire with a hot chocolate and a good read! (Sorry, we can’t ship overseas from NZ. Get your copy on Book Depository or Amazon.)

2. Good books grow faith in Jesus. Edify your friends and family. Want a page-turner? Try King Solomon’s Deadly Legacy. Need to inspire your friends? The Seven Seals of the Holy Spirit will challenge their comfort zone. Stuck for a gift for a teenager? Flies in a Window. Need a miracle? Heal the Sick! is filled with testimonies.

3. Give a memorial of Reinhard Bonnke, who died last Christmas. We have discounted stock including Time is Running Out by Bonnke, and Harvest Joy, a glorious coffee-table record. All proceeds go to CfaN.

4. We’re offering crazy prices. Up to 50% off! There’ll never be another time like it.

5. Tough job sorted. Something for everyone in one place. Save shoe leather and mad crowds.

6. Unlike chocolate in our household, a book lasts. It can be re-read, recommended, shared, discussed, and chewed over.

Grab yours today.

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Commissioned

“Commissioned,” Ali said. “We’re commissioned by the star. We can’t go home, Ben.”

Ben pointed behind them. “The king’s lying, that’s all. Didn’t you see his eyes?”

They left the city gates and passed a lively market. Shouts echoed from the stone walls. Produce cluttered the pavement―melons, onions and pomegranates. They steered their donkeys away from the crowds.

A third man, Saba, stroked his white beard. “He’s right, Ali. The man’s poison, but we don’t have to obey him.”

 “He’ll kill us, Saba!” Ben sliced his throat with his finger.

Saba nodded. “So we travel at night.”

Ben spread his arms and shrugged. “Yeah, with the lions and bears and bandits. You’re nuts!”

Ali grabbed Ben’s shoulders. “Come on, Ben, let’s get this thing sorted. We’ve come a long way. We can’t turn back now. And anyway, don’t you want to see him?”

The cobbled road followed a ridge through sparse forest. Here they rested in the afternoon, letting the donkeys graze in the shade. They waited until the stars grew fat and journeyed on, reaching the village at dawn.

Roosters crowed. Dogs slunk into the shadows. A flock of young girls, chattering like sparrows, carried water jars on their shoulders.

“How do we know which house?” Ben asked.

Saba pointed to the sky. “Still present.”

Ben looked up and nodded. “I didn’t expect that. Not here.”

“Commissioned,” Ali said.

They turned into a narrow alley, the donkeys’ hooves kicking dust.

Saba coughed. “I think we’re here, gentlemen.”

A small crowd clustered around an adobe and thatch house. In the doorway, stood a young man, grinning. A teenage girl emerged, holding a newborn child. Her face shone.

The crowd fell silent. They stepped back.

The three travelers knelt in the dust and bowed, their faces to the ground.

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Myths of Christmas

1.  Stable or Unstable?

We gather, smiling, around the stable. Coo over our children, dressed as Mary & Joseph. Grin at Farmer Giles’ real live donkey. Aaaaah! It’s lovely. And good. And incorrect!

Luke probably interviewed Mary. He records she wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn (Luke 2:7). That seems clear enough. We have a manger. Therefore a stable. But was there? Could there be a manger elsewhere? If you visit Bethlehem, they’ll tell you he was born in a cave.

The clue is the ‘inn’. The Greek word is katalumati. It means a guest room. It has traditionally been translated here as ‘inn’ but we find the regular (and common) word for an inn or public guest-house, pandocheion, in the parable of the Good Samaritan. Quite different.

Joseph and Mary were returning to their roots for the census. It’s inconceivable they had no family there, and equally unlikely they wouldn’t stay with them. However, hundreds had descended on the town, and the family guest room was overflowing. So they moved to the stable after all?

Twice a year I visit Nepali villages caught in a 2,000-year-old time-warp. The family livestock occupies the ground floor or an attached annex of the house. Without doctors or hospitals, but people everywhere, Mary had to find a place among the household animals and give birth on their straw. Messy. Painful. Lonely. Frightened.

Does the Lord mind our sweet Nativity scenes? Of course not! But don’t let’s miss the harsh reality of his birth. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for your coming.