And at the piano there arose such a clatter…

I recently was asked to play background piano music for our church’s preschool Christmas program — and this is a task I love to do! Many years of piano lessons, from grade school all the way through college, helped me develop some chops in tickling the ivories.

All four of us Nelson kids took piano lessons, in fact, and all four of us have a similar style: to try as best we can to play loud enough to somehow resemble all the sounds a rollicking orchestra might make. Though we all read music just fine — and we can, if forced, play just the notes on the page — more often than not we love to improvise and veer from those limited music notations. (What was Beethoven thinking? Was he in a hurry? Why did he write so few notes? Couldn’t he take a little extra time to fill out the 5th Symphony, for goodness’ sake?!)

You’re gonna need a bigger bracelet…

DSTTWMTCCSAROTGTYA

That series of letters is an acrostic that I wish to share with you, knowing full well it might be a challenging one to memorize! I was hoping it might catch on as a phrase Christians could let roll off their tongue, but I discovered I was having too much trouble reciting it myself. Still, this acrostic is my answer to the annual December/Advent tension I feel in our culture: trying to be a faith-filled religious person while, at the same time, dealing with the ways our culture waters down Christmas to a weak peppermint tea of sentiment and tinsel. I highlighted that tension in last week’s blog, and here’s a summary: “So what is a Christian to do this time of year? As the spangled penguins and polar bears squeeze out our Mary and Joseph and simple shepherds … and angels and elves seem to get thrown together in some kind of candy cane wrestle-mania cage match … and while sugar plums and fruitcake compete with communion wafers for a place in our hearts … what is a confused Christian like me to do?”

I’ve spent a week pondering this, and my answer is … DSTTWMTCCSAROTGTYA.

Do You See What I See?

I saw a sign on the interstate that made me mentally pull over and weep. I couldn’t actually pull over, because traffic was zooming on all sides of me and I had to keep pace. But, in my heart, I began weeping and gnashing my teeth. Here was the message:

“Nooooo!” I cried, over the sounds of “Santa Baby” playing on my car radio. I mean, I like a good television show as much as the next person, but that should not ever be equated with the gravity of religious expression.