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Finley, I am.
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Hey!

I am Finley. James Finley, specifically— though the specificity of that is low too as “James” is the most common name amongst Finleys. James Finley, specifically. I am a Christian, a father of four, a software engineer, an amateur instrument builder and woodworker, and a bard.

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As horrible as this event was, let this be a warning to all normal churches and “everyday revolutionaries” out there, especially those who decry the culture war. The Left sees no difference between you and the charismatic megachurch that hosts political rallies for Donald Trump. You are their enemy. You may not wish it were so. You may nuance every jot and tittle of your pristine doctrine all you want. But they do not care. They will storm your church in order to strike fear into your children. This is who the Left is. They do not discriminate between the Kellerites and the MAGA Baptists.

J. Chase Davis, Christian: It’s Time to Go on Offense in the Public Square

For too long Christians have stayed out of politics. In a country that was started by Christians, for Christians. Best I can tell, my grandparent’s generation retreated and bought the lie of secularism being neutral. But when you retreat, others take what you left. And what we left was academia— colleges and universities established for the Glory of God—, the arts, the sciences, and the public square. And it’s all been captured not by neutrality, but by pagans.

None of that is news to anyone paying attention. The conclusion is: Christian, it’s time to re-enter the public square. You need to read deeply; you need to grow substantially in logic, substance, speaking, courage, and faith.

There are so many waiting for your voice, Christian. But your voice isn’t the emotional cackling of the Left. It’s not the twisting of emotional sabotage, of toxic empathy, of untethered empathy, of suicidal empathy, or unjust mercy. No, men talk to the point. Your voice is the voice of reason, of grace, of justice.

Start with Slaying Leviathan by Glenn Sunshine. Move onto The White Horse King by Benjamin Merkle. Toss in some When a Nation Forgets God by Erwin W. Lutzer and The American Story: The Beginnings by David Barton and Tim Barton. There is a ton of good ones in between, but that’s a start.

If we could all take 12 months off to read some books, we’d all be doing a lot better in this.

And though this world, with devils filled,
should threaten to undo us,
we will not fear, for God has willed
his truth to triumph through us.
The prince of darkness grim,
we tremble not for him;
his rage we can endure,
for lo! his doom is sure;
one little word shall fell him.

Do not be anxious. If you find yourself anxious, check your heart. You must trust God and His sovereignty. If you do, why worry?

Yesterday a church in Minneapolis was stormed by communist revolutionaries. Behind them was Satan himself. I don’t say that flippantly. I don’t say that lightly. I don’t say that figuratively. Our fight is with him and his and we have reached the storming the churches part.

In the words of Martin Luther, “The prince of darkness grim, we tremble not for him; his rage we can endure, for lo! his doom is sure; one little word shall fell him.”

Do not tremble for Satan. A Mighty Fortress is our God. The cruel hate of our ancient foe is unmatched but by the grace, love, and power of our God. Tremble not. Fear not. Be not anxious.

Rest in God.

And be prepared.

Last summer I read a book about hospitality by Steve Wilkins called Face to Face. Heading into the end of Fall, I finished a book on the American revolution. Both books called out to me that 1) feasting in America was killed and 2) it was quintessential to the human soul. So as an introvert, I needed to revive that. I know, y’all don’t think I am an introvert and neither do the 26 people I invited into my house over the course of Twelvetide.

Now, if you know much about me, come October I am itching to get all the Christmas decor out, start shifting most of my outfits towards red, Santa hats start popping up daily, and candy canes… well… I have a thing for candy canes. Large candy canes. I have always loved Christmas and everything that came with it. Growing up, that was large family parties on Christmas Eve and Day. Lots of cousins, huge Christmas trees, laughter, joy, and merriment. And then 2020 came and all of that ended.

The last four years we wandered— and wondered— our way through the holidays trying to find ourselves and our family’s traditions. That’s not to say that five years of Christmas were dead or forgotten. They were bright, noisy, and filled with laughter. But they were small and it never felt like Christmas. They ended before they started, the burst of Christmas— after the wait of Advent— was more a fizzle. It felt good for a short time and then we lurched back into work and onto a new year. And that wasn’t Christmas.

You see, Advent is a period of waiting and anticipation. Four weeks to culminate in… something. That something wasn’t supposed to be a half a day of ripping paper and eating pie. It was meant to be bigger. And longer. Not even the two very large days I grew up with, though usually followed with a week with the in-laws or a week of downtime with the kiddos as an adult. Historically that was the Twelve Days of Christmas.

I don’t want to bore you with the details… those details where talked about over warm wassail and candlelight for nearly two weeks. The gist: twelve days of feasting, twelve days of Christmassing, twelve days of music, joy, laughter, merriment, and gaeity. In the words of Chesterton, the best way to shorten winter is to prolong Christmas. During the darkest of months, the shortest of days, the coldest of times, gather ‘round the table and eat, drink, and celebrate the coming of Christ.

And so we did. We opened our home for seven nights— with one day break— and fed 26 people. We were going for twelve before getting sick on the 9th day and rescheduling the end of our celebration. Those seven nights were amazingly Christmas. Alive, to say the least. There were rules:

  1. my wife wasn’t the host, buzzing around and not present
  2. this wasn’t Grandma’s massive Christmas feast, this was a gathering of friends new and old; big crockpot of food, sides, and desserts with fresh wassail nightly, but low key and low cost
  3. it was a family affair for ours and theirs, this means crafts, activities, and Christmas movies for the kids while the adults roared around the table with conversations across all topics.

And so our eight foot long, hand-made table was the center of life for seven nights and we made merry our Christmastide. Our kids cackled with laughter with new and old friends in the other room, our plates flowed with great meals— cranberry BBQ pork, spaghetti, and carnita tacos— and we spread the joy of Christmas beyond our family in a way we’ve never been able to do. And we’ll do it again. We have twelve more people coming the weekend to finish off the celebration and next year we will be filling out even more of the nights.

The thing we heard every single night— as the pot emptied with sadness— was that the wassail was the best of the night. Don’t hear wrong, homemade BBQ sauces and shredded carnitas were a hit, but the wassail pot was the warm hug we all needed in the midwinter and it hit everyone just right. So I end this write up with recipe, in the internet recipe tradition of following a long post.

  • 4 apples cut in half and cored
  • 1 orange
  • 1 TBSP whole cloves
  • 2 quarts apple cider
  • juice 1 lemon
  • 2 cinnamon sticks
  • ½ cup honey
  • ¼ tsp ground ginger
  • ¼ tsp ground nutmeg
  • 2 star anise
  • 6 allspice berries
  1. Preheat oven to 350.
  2. Slice the apples in half and scoop out the core. Fill the hole with sugar and place in a 9×13 baking pan.
  3. Poke the whole cloves into the orange and place into the baking dish with the apples.
  4. Place 1” of water in the bottom of the pan and place the pan into the oven to roast for 40 minutes.
  5. While the fruit is roasting, pour the apple cider into a large stock pot.
  6. Add remaining spices, lemon juice, and the honey to the cider.
  7. Allow to barely simmer while the fruit finishes roasting (When the fruit is done roasting, add it to the pot as well).
  8. Keep heating on low heat to keep warm while you enjoy!

We usually transfer the wassail to a crockpot, but keeping it on a stove will fill you house with a beautiful, crisp aroma.

Christmas continues until February 2nd. It’s not over. It has just begun. And this season, we began it with a loud bang.

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