Sea of Swirly Twirly Gumdrops

As I motored up the hill in my unassuming suburban neighborhood on my way home after a long day at the office yesterday, a simple white-and-crimson sign caught my eye. Stuck in my neighbor's lawn, looking like a pest-control advertisement, the placard guilelessly read, "Happy Birthday Jesus." Inelegant yet frank, this sign captured my attention more than even the most outlandishly flashy displays that are so common in these affluent north metro Atlanta suburbs. And I had to wonder why this would be the case.

In our culture, there exists a perception that more is better. Supersize me. Indulge yourself. Small has become Tall and medium is Grande. The red-and-green season festooned with tinsel and garaland is a microcosm of our society's tendency to excess. Houses flashing gaudily (I mean, "prettily") with flashing lights in tri-color, six-foot candy canes flanking the driveway, and a plastic waving Santa Clause on the roof are so commonplace as to be unremarkable.

What do garland, candy, jingle bells, Douglas firs, and swirly twirly gumdrops have to do with Christmas?

The true reason for Christmas is the birth of Jesus, right? I mean, none of this chintzy hoopla would exist if God had not come to this planet in the form of a teeny baby who was born poor and persecuted even in his innocence. The birth of Jesus (as well as His subsequent death and resurrection thirty three years later) is the most significant and astounding event in the entire history of the universe. This little bundle of joy, complete with poopy diapers (that were not nearly as sophisticated as today's bigger sized! dry-shield! expands-with-your-baby's-breathing! diappies, although they were probably more environmentally friendly 2000 years ago) single-handedly saved the world from eternal damnation.

The word CHRIST-mas even contains His name!

Yet in our consumeristic overindulgent society, our Savior has been marginalized and nearly forgotten in favor of 800-watt synchronized twinkly bulbs and frolicking elves. So when I saw my neighbor's modest sign, I was more breathless than I would have been gazing at the most elaborate and high-wattage holiday displays.

Ironic.