In my dream of Christmas Yet to Come, I see a loving mother and I see our children. I see us in a church service together on a Christmas Eve.
I see bright and curious faces experiencing the wonder of something transcendent. I see two parents who love each other and are eager for their children to feel the wonder of something bigger than themselves — to feel the joy and love and connection of Christmas with people who know there is some mysterious power bigger than themselves, something which binds a community of people together through some wisp of spirit inside each heart.
I grew up in churches where the brain was more important than the heart. Nobody would have said it that way, but what mattered was doctrine and rational explanations, not experience or any powerful sense of wonder. We were vaguely disdainful of people who felt too much or expressed too much from the heart.
We quietly extinguished the transcendent from the sacred in most respects — and I believe we lost something important as a result.

Check out my re-runs if you’d like, because I’m on vacation for a bit
‘Vast military-industrial complex’ keeps growing and keeps killing
Illegal bribes mean a politician is corrupt, but the legal things he does are just as immoral
World is an insane roller coaster and I need this insanity to stop
Weddings are triumphs of love and hope over reasonable fears
The applause I crave has become the applause I’m afraid to trust
Ron Paul isn’t a racist, but the old newsletters need a credible response
Boston ‘gay on gay’ assault shines light on absurdity of ‘hate crime’
We all know fairy tales aren’t true, but maybe we need such illusions