Wilderness Wanderings

When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed. Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, "The Lord has done great things for them." The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy. Restore our fortunes, Lord, like streams in the Negev. Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy. Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them. (Psalm 126)

The joy that this Psalm speaks of, is that unique kind of deep-rooted joy that's only found among the people of God. It's a contentment that transcends the ebbs and flows of wealth, work, and possessions. It's a peace that flows steadily beneath the shifting situations, diagnosis, and surprises of our lives. It is a hope that's anchored, unmoving in the bedrock of God's promises. A trust that can bring a smile, a laugh—even a song—in the darkest of valleys. That's joy. A fruit of the Spirit, a gift of God.

According to the psalm, joy arises from past memory, gives a solid place to stand in the present, and a hopeful picture for the future.

The past actions of God, when "the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion" in the words of the psalm, or when Jesus lived, died, and rose again for us in the Christian story are the place where our joy is anchored. Because of what God has done in forgiving us, setting us free, and offering us life in abundance through Christ, we are a people of joy.

Knowing what God has done in the past also anchors our future. We hold a hope of a world renewed: all pain and tears wiped away in a new heaven and a new earth where peace reigns, disease disappears, and all relationships are set right. It is a place and time, in other words, of deep joy and gladness in the presence of God.

Therefore, when trouble or heartache strike, we can pray with the psalm: "restore our fortunes, Lord." It is a way of praying "on earth as it is in heaven." A prayer that asks God to make the joy we have known in the past and the joy we await in the future complete even in this present moment.

This sure past and future hope shape other aspects of how we live too. Many look for happiness in relationship, but we find ourselves loved perfectly and completely by God in Christ already and therefore able to love. Many look for happiness in a party, but we find ourselves invited to a wedding feast. Many look for happiness in entertainment, but we find our real life in God filled with better promises and a better story.

There is a steadiness to this joy that we find in God then. We are daughters and sons, adopted into God's family and belonging to Him. Our life is no longer built by our own achievements, but rather is anchored in the life He has won for us. Our deepest cravings and yearnings in life find satisfaction in the one who grants to us abundant life, salvation, and nourishment, all without money and without cost. And we know that even in times of heartache and pain, there remains a solid hope to look forward to. God's work is not yet complete and what we see is not all there is. For even "those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy."

Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be moved and will endure forever. As the mountains surround Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds his people, now and forevermore. Evil people will not always rule the land the Lord gave to those who do right. If they did, those who do right might do what is evil (Psalm 125:1-3).

Reading the Bible well requires us our imagination. The Word of God is filled with images which require us to pause and appreciate, if we are to derive benefit from them.

If you have ever driven through the mountains, it will be easier to grasp the central image of this psalm. Jerusalem was a walled city on the top of a mountain surrounded by other mountains, some larger than hers. Standing on top of those walls, looking out at those mountains, an Israelite could feel secure.

Like the mountains surrounding Jerusalem, so the Lord surrounds His people. Of course, God's protection of his people is worth more than mountains. This imagery of the mountains surrounding and protecting Jerusalem helps us understand one of God's qualities towards His people. But God is always more than the earthly image.

This sense of trust in God often comes when we enter our "holy places." These are the places and times, both personal and communal, when we look to our Lord, who is like a mountain that surrounds us. The Songs of the Ascents remind us that holy places are an important part of our faith, for they provide focal points for our relationship with God.

At this point in the psalm, we should recall the covenant relationship God formed with His people Israel. He promised to be their God and called them to follow His ways. If they reject His ways, they break covenant and cannot count on His protection. In fact, he promises to be against them if they persist in rebellion.

How do we use this psalm to strengthen our own faith? One way is to consider Jesus' beatitude, "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth" (Matthew 5:5). Meek here, does not refer to someone who gets walked over constantly, but rather, to someone who has trained to do what is right, so they do it even when it is difficult, in other words, the righteous, those who trust in the Lord and are not shaken.

Such folks will inherit the earth, or what we often refer to as the new earth. The folks who included this psalm in the Bible were the refugees who came back from Babylon and struggled to establish a righteous Israelite society in the promised land. They were opposed by various other stronger nations, and by many fellow Israelites who gave up on righteous living to pursue dishonest gain.

The righteous were often left in the economic dust of these two groups, wondering where on earth God's protection for them was. It was tempting to abandon their vision of an obedient nation. 'Don't give up,' says the psalmist, 'evil folks will not endure. In the end, the righteous will dwell securely in the land.' God will see to it.

Many of the pilgrims making their way to Jerusalem singing this psalm were not the rich and privileged. They often were the victims of injustices in their daily lives. They most likely felt crushed. As they gathered in Jerusalem, the holy city, and worshipped together at the temple, some measure of confidence was restored. God does do good to those who are good, to those who are upright in their hearts, despite the circumstances that surround them each day.

In holy places, we can call on God to surround us like a mountain and keep us safe from the wicked ones and those who turn aside to crookedness. May we all find our 'holy places' — those places of gathering in which we gain new strength for the days of our journeys.

Life in God's church is not much different from that of Israel of old. It is not easy to live righteously before God, to love him and neighbour. May this psalm fire our imaginations to hear with new ears Jesus' solemn assurance, "In this world you will have trouble. But be encouraged! I have won the battle over the world" (John 16:33). May this psalm encourage us to live faithfully before him.

If the Lord had not been on our side—let Israel say—if the Lord had not been on our side when people attacked us, they would have swallowed us alive when their anger flared against us; the flood would have engulfed us, the torrent would have swept over us, the raging waters would have swept us away. Praise be to the Lord, who has not let us be torn by their teeth. We have escaped like a bird from the fowler's snare; the snare has been broken, and we have escaped. Our help is in the name of the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. (Psalm 124)

Psalm 124 is a song of witness and testimony to the God who is our help. As a song that was sung trip after trip, year after year, it represented the accumulated testimony of the people of God. And it continued to prove its truth. Each time the song was sung, more meaning filled its lines. More experiences filtered into the cracks of the song's lyrics to prove its truth and give credence to its word.

In that sense, Psalm 124 was to the Israelites much like some of our great anthems and hymns of the faith are to us: Great is Thy Faithfulness, Amazing Grace, When Peace Like a River, Holy, Holy, Holy, O God Our Help in Ages Past, and any number of others.

Over the years, these become more than just another number in the hymnbook or set of words on the screen. They give voice to the truth of our lives and faith such that we're not only singing the words when we sing these hymns, we also find ourselves re-singing the memories of our lived experiences with God as we voice these tunes.

We remember the time when his peace, like a river, attended our way as we accompanied a loved one in the hospital. Or, when a morning dawned in our lives after a long dark night where new mercies from the faithful hand of God appeared. Or, how we sang Amazing Grace at our parent or grandparent's funeral—and really felt the power and emotion of those words for the first time there. And now we find that we cannot sing that hymn anymore without remembering the time, or times, in our lives where that text rang true.

These songs become our lived testimony of faith. They become the words that we use to encourage one another in times of distress—because the God of whom we sing is faithful, and He has shown it.

Faced with the pressing questions of whether or not God exists, or whether he's with us, or cares about us, or why he allows some of the awful things that destroy what we hold most dear—the faith of the Psalms does not always offer proofs or logical explanations, clarifications or qualifications. Instead, sometimes it just offers a song. A testimony. A living witness to what God has done that has a strange way of cutting through even some of the most thorny questions, fears, and heartaches of our lives.

Psalm 124 is a song like that. It is an anthem of the faith to remind all the faithful, that indeed, "Our help is in the name of the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth." On the road up to Jerusalem, that's just what the ancient people of Israel would do. Sing, remember, and believe once again in that God who was their help in ages past, and their hope for the years to come.

Whatever road you're journeying on through life today—will you hear their testimony? Will you enter the song?

An extended Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is Luke 2:21-40 from the New International Version of the Bible. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

DIVE IN QUESTIONS

1. How are you doing in your relationship and devotion time with God?
2. In the average week, how many times do you pray? On your own or with others? Make sure to include prayers before meals, morning, nighttime, or bedtime prayers—including prayers with children/parents; include praying at church, opened-eyed prayers during the day, devotional times of prayer before or after a meeting/class.
3. In the average week, how many times do you read the Bible? On your own or with others? Include any Bible reading or devotionals you do around the dinner table or at other times that include Bible passages (the Today, Wilderness Wanderings, a Bible app), include bible study or other groups where the Bible is read, and include church services too!
4. In the average month, how many times do you participate in some other faith-connected or churchy activity? Bible studies, any other church activity, group, committee, care team, leadership role; volunteering to serve others in the community, with an organization, or giving financially as a response to your faith; Christian school activities, listening or singing to Christian/worship music.
5. Add your 2 weekly numbers (from 3. & 4.): =__________ Multiply that number by 4 (to make it a per-month number): 9=__________Add that number to your monthly number (c.): =__________Multiply that number by 12 (now it's a yearly number): =__________Multiply that number by the average life expectancy of 81: =__________ Multiply that number by the number of people in our church (275ish): =__________ Even a little bit of Ordinary faithfulness can make for a pretty big impact!
6. What kind of "authentic" faith do you feel most pulled toward?
7. How did ordinary faithfulness create the context for Joseph, Mary, Simeon, and Anna's encounters with God's work?
8. What practices of ordinary faithfulness will you commit or continue to commit to this year?

"As the eyes of slaves look to the hand of their master, as the eyes of a maid look to the hand of her mistress, so our eyes look to the Lord our God, till he shows us mercy" (Psalm 123:2).

In the Old Testament there is no finer picture of a servant at prayer than what is pictured in this psalm. In the culture of the ancient Near East, a master spoke to a slave as little as possible, especially during a meal.

A good servant learned to watch the master closely, with a complete, rapt attention. All that should ever be required was a nod of the head, a look, the slightest hand gesture. If the master was forced to speak, the servant had already failed.

A good servant learned to know the mind of the master. That's the way the psalmist waits on God: singleness of mind, not looking to the left or the right, not distracted-just relentlessly attentive to the master's will and desire.

When a massive army once made its move toward Jerusalem to conquer and destroy it, king Jehoshaphat prayed to the Lord, his Master: "O our God, won't you stop them? We are powerless against this mighty army that is about to attack us. We do not know what to do, but we are looking to you for help" (2 Chronicles 20:12).

Here it is, the posture of a praying servant. What do we do when we don't know what to do? We keep watching and waiting on the Lord. Of course, we act and decide as the situation demands, but we do so in the full knowledge that everything we do, we do before the Lord, and we are accountable to him. Jesus put it rather starkly, "So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty'" (Luke 17:10).

It is true that we are more than servants; Jesus also calls us friends (John 15:14-15). But even here the aspect of servanthood is not far, "You are my friends if you do what I command". What Jesus specifies is that he tells us God's business. We know it, we don't have to guess at it. And we are called to do it. Was Jesus thinking of the posture of this psalmist when he told us to "seek first the Kingdom of God"?

Many of us have been in situations feeling like we are in over our heads. We would love to swim gently through life being fully capable to ride every little ripple that comes our way. It seems that God keeps pulling us into deeper waters where our dependence on Him must grow.

As we come to the end of a year and prepare for the next, we often take stock of our lives. We assess how we have lived and make commitments for the year to come. It would be beneficial to ponder what our posture before the Lord has been and will be. This matter of being God's servants is countercultural. As I was growing up, Christians often encouraged each other to live counter culturally. Rarely, did we explore what that meant. Being anyone's servant is anathema in our culture. We are all meant to be free and self-determining individuals. But we Christians do not truly believe that. We take our lead from Jesus. God gets to tell us how to live.

We are servants of the Lord, and if we are wise servants we will fix our eyes on him, "just as servants keep their eyes on their master." We will meditate on his Word and pray it back to him. To do the will of the Lord, we need to know the will of the Lord. We must soak in Scripture to know the mind of our master.

Perspective is everything. Many have been taught to pray with eyes closed and hands folded: a posture of reverence. But what if there is more than one posture of reverence. What about hands uplifted, face turned up, eyes focussed on our Master, eager to do his will?

I rejoiced with those who said to me, "Let us go to the house of the Lord." Our feet are standing in your gates, Jerusalem. (Psalm 122:1-2)

Psalm 120 marked the repentant turn that began the journey to God. Psalm 121 marks the trustful journey up. And now, already in Psalm 122: we've arrived at our destination. "Our feet are standing in your gates, Jerusalem."

Even though the journey is the backdrop of all of the psalms of ascent, the focal point of these psalms is not the journey itself, but the destination. It is a journey to God and to the place where God had caused his name to dwell among his people: Jerusalem.

That's a good reorientation point for us, too. Because we're good at the journey. We're good at stringing together a life that works. We have all sorts of "common sense" and sayings and experts and best practices and YouTube how-to videos to navigate ourselves successfully through the journey of life. And we have to do these things—we have to work, keep up the house, raise the family, get where we need to go—because if we don't, these things have real consequences. They make their demands on us daily.

But God doesn't. If we don't stop to pay attention to God… nothing really happens. If we don't go up to worship on a regular basis… our life skates on just fine. No one has to go to worship. And lots of people have discovered this over the pandemic time with its lockdowns. Going up to worship is not "essential." It is voluntary. It always has been: even in ancient Israel.

Sure, Israel had laws that said otherwise, but if you examine the record of faithfulness to this law given in our scriptures, you'll find it ebbed and flowed, just like it does today. Faithful practice never lasted for more than a generation in the general population. And faithful practice usually never resumed until there were, well, consequences: like subjugation to a foreign power or exile to a foreign land. But Jesus has now shouldered all those consequences for us… so there really is only one reason left to ever go to worship. Do you know what it is?

God.

And unless that's the reason you come—to meet with God, to be shaped by God, to grow in your love for God, to live in faithful response to God—then your coming is subject to the same shifting sands that have ever blown away the faithfulness of God's people.

Of course, it works the other way too: in coming to worship, our pretenses and utilitarian uses for God and for worship are slowly stripped away as God does his work in us and as the relationship between us grows. We become part of God's story, we are reminded of God's presence, we receive God's love, we are empowered by God's work through his Son and Spirit. Slowly, the act of worship trains our emotions, our desires, our habits, and all of our lives such that we find ourselves in company with Psalm 122 among those who can say: "I rejoiced with those who said to me, 'Let us go to the house of the Lord.'"

"I lift up my eyes to the hills -- where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let you foot slip—he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep" (Psalm 121:1-4).

Two things should be clarified as we consider this psalm. First, via the King James Version and Maria von Trapp, an errant translation has made it into our hearts. In those, the second line reads, "from whence comes my help." On the surface this suggests that our help comes from the hills. But on a more thoughtful reading we realize that God often meets His people on mountain tops and thus we see God there and feel secure.

However, the NIV translation is more accurate. This is a travelling psalm. The Israelites are making their way towards the temple for one of the yearly festivals. They needed to journey through the mountains which were full of dangerous pathways and evil bandits.

Further, the mountains were full of shrines to false gods who offered protection. The people encouraged each other with this psalm to keep them from the temptation of these false deities. As they journeyed to and from Jerusalem for the festivals at the temple, they reminded each other that their help did not come from these deities but from God himself, the one who never slumbers nor sleeps, whose watchful care never wavers.

This context leads to the second clarification. This is a matter of culture and context more than translation. Our Christian culture is very much about 'me and Jesus'. Thus, when we read this Psalm, we read it personally. And when something bad happens, we ask "Does this psalm speak the truth?"

The Israelites did not sing this psalm as a 'me and the Most High God' testimony. They would not have understood this as an individual blessing. What I mean is that the Israelite did not believe she had a claim on God that He must keep her safe or else He has failed in being God.

The Israelites were a deeply communal people because God had formed them that way. The only claim they had on God was that He had laid claim to them. They were the sheep of His flock because He made it so. God kept intervening in their history to develop this covenant relationship with them.

His greatest intervention was in Jesus, through whom He redeems the world and established His new people, the church. He has called us to be members of his kingdom of priests and his holy nation (Exodus 19:6; 1 Peter 2:9). The Lord watches over us because He watches over His church. We may trust in Him because He has made us His children.

Jesus echoes this psalm when He says, "Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Matthew 6:33). Can we trust this God? Jesus says that God has the hairs of our head numbered (Matthew 10:30). That is how much He cares for us. But this does not mean that nothing bad will ever happen to us. It means that we are never out of His care. Our only comfort is indeed that in life and in death and in body and soul we belong to our faithful Saviour Jesus Christ.

Our Psalm provides strong words of assurance to us worshippers that we fix our eyes squarely on the source of our help. The Lord, the maker of heavens and earth, who does not slumber, will "guard, keep watch over, protect" and "be a shade" to us. But it also warns us not to look to other "mountains" for help. They are no help at all.

Maybe Jesus was reflecting on this Psalm when he said, "Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?" (Matthew 6:26).

I call on the Lord in my distress, and he answers me. Save me, Lord, from lying lips and from deceitful tongues. What will he do to you, and what more besides, you deceitful tongue? He will punish you with a warrior's sharp arrows, with burning coals of the broom bush. Woe to me that I dwell in Meshek, that I live among the tents of Kedar! Too long have I lived among those who hate peace. I am for peace; but when I speak, they are for war. (Psalm 120)

Psalm 120 is the first of the Psalms of Ascent. So as we start off once again on our Psalm series, we start on a very particular journey—the prayerful, singing journey up to Jerusalem with the Israelites—the journey in other words, of discipleship.

It's fitting that this journey begins with Psalm 120, because it is set about as far away from Jerusalem as you can get, both figuratively and geographically. Meshek is located thousands of kilometers away from Jerusalem somewhere in the south of present-day Russia. Kedar refers to a wandering tribe of nomads that resided somewhere to the south of Israel.

But Meshek and Kedar also have a figurative meaning. Meshek would have been a strange place to the Israelites. Far away and inescapably foreign. Kedar was better known, but known as a violent, even barbaric tribe: hostile to the Israelites.

The Psalmist and the Israelite pilgrims felt the tension that arose from these figurative places of hostility and far-flung strangeness: "Woe to me that I dwell in Meshek, that I live among the tents of Kedar!" It is as if to say, this place where I am is not my home—it's hostile, it's distant, the people are cruel and warmongering lies abound. So the prayer of the Psalm: "Save me, Lord, from these lying lips and from deceitful tongues."

The beginning of the Israelite's journey was a reminder that they weren't home and that they didn't belong. This gave them a reason to turn to God and cry out, beginning both the physical and the spiritual journey back home to God as embodied at Jerusalem.

This is actually where any true journey of faith begins: in a recognition that we're far from home in a place we don't belong. Christians have long recognized this. I like the way Dante says it in the opening lines of the Divine Comedy. He writes: "Midway through the journey of our life, I awoke to find myself in a dark wood, for I had wandered off from the straight path." Once we wake up to this reality of being lost, the very next step called of us, is a step of repentance: a word that quite literally means to turn, in this case, toward God.

Knowing that we are far from home and bereft of belonging is actually a good thing when it turns us back toward home. Picture the prodigal son. All of a sudden he woke up to the memory of his Father's house. Immediately he turns away from the paths that had left him destitute and begins that long journey back home to the Father.

That journey is the same one that the Israelites walked on their way up to Jerusalem every year. It's the same journey any of us walk when we give up and cry out any version of the prayer "Lord, save me." Throughout our Christian lives: this is the discipleship journey we walk. The journey of repentance, which is in other words, the journey that turns us back home to God.

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is Luke 2:1-20 from the New International Version of the Bible. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

Dive In Questions:

1. How is your life an ongoing act of worship to Jesus?
2. How would you describe his glory? What five words would you choose?
3. Who would be considered the 'outsiders' in your community? How can you reach out to them as an individual? As a community?
4. Identify two ways that you can more intentionally worship Jesus with your everyday life.
5. Identify one person (or group) that needs to experience the love of Jesus. Follow the pattern of Jesus and reach beyond yourself to the outcasts in your community.

"I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me. Then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come," says the Lord Almighty. But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he will be like a refiner's fire or a launderer's soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. Then the Lord will have people who will bring offerings in righteousness, and the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem will be acceptable to the Lord, as in days gone by, as in former years (Malachi 3:1-4).

Here it is, the Friday before Christmas, the end of Advent. Our trees are lit, our homes decorated, gifts purchased and food ready. The nativity scenes illuminate our windows and front yards. Its time for all the warm fuzzies of Christmas Eve and morning, of family around the gifts and the table.

It would be nice if the Bible authenticated our domesticated versions of Christmas. But on all accounts the Bible portrays the event, both in terms of its deep meaning and the realities of those who lived the first Christmas, as something radically different from our fantasies of the perfect Christmas. Our text on this final Advent Wilderness Wanderings is no exception.

These verses once puzzled some folks in a Bible study. They wondered what it meant about the character and nature of God. So, one of them offered to consult a silversmith to learn about the process of refining silver.

The smith held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities. He not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver while it was in the fire. If left a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.

The Bible student asked, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?"

He smiled while answering, "Oh, that's easy...when I see my image in it."

It is difficult to keep this in mind as we celebrate Christmas. But this is the point. To the Ephesians, Paul wrote, "You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness (4:22-24).

This was prophesied by Malachi. Israel had returned from Exile but was picking up old habits: greed, injustice, and disregard for God. The early chapters detail these things. Israel is questioning God's commitment to her. "Why is God not blessing us?" In our text Malachi says that God is coming. "But who can endure the day of his coming?"

God comes in love, absolutely. But his love includes judgement. This is not a judgement of destruction, but of purification. God's people will be refined, "For he will be like a refiner's fire or a launderer's soap." John the baptizer, the messenger, used the images of purifying fire to describe his work. He indicated Jesus would have this same purifying effect. Jesus promised that the Holy Spirit would convict us of sin.

God loves us, yes, but he doesn't want to leave us as we are. He wants us to be just like Jesus. God desires to turn His children from rough, hard-edged stones into gems of gold and silver. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver.

Christmas harkens to God's laundry machine, that our lives are lived in it. Its whirling back and forth cleans us. The Spirit of God is the water, and the Word of God, the soap. Jesus operates it, not from a distance waiting for the finish beep. No, Jesus is standing by the machine watching closely what is happening; sometimes heating up the water, sometimes cooling it down, sometimes speeding up the machine and sometimes slowing it down.

Not till he returns will the work be finished. Through all this purifying and washing, Jesus is transforming us into a holy community offering genuine worship to Him. Till then, Jesus is hard at work getting rid of our anger, rage, lust, selfishness, hatred, discord, drunkenness, and such things. He is producing in us love, joy, peace patience, kindness goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

When God takes us through the refiner's fire, let us be encouraged because he is committed to turn us from a rough, hard-edged stone to a precious metal. He will do this through events in our workplace, our relationships, and other circumstances in our live. This is the reason for Christmas. Let's not blow out the fire.