It blows my mind.  On Facebook, we share not only where we are, who we are with, but--increasingly--what we are eating.  Especially during the holidays!  Facebook has become “foodbook!”

I've scratched my head trying to figure out why we're so big on sharing what's for dinner.  All I can point to is the perfect recipe of improved camera optics and a tangy combination of fidgety phone folks with a penchant for sharing too much information.  

Restaurants have wised up.  According to an article in the Associated Press, the restaurant chain, Chili’s, now spends $750,000 annually on an egg wash that gives burger buns a photogenic glaze.   They are also serving french fries in sleek stainless steel baskets and stacking ribs on plates for a more appetizing photo look.

 Nor is Chili’s alone.  Yum Brands CEO Greg Creed (think Taco Bell, KFC and Pizza Hut) has described diners' growing tendency to “art direct” food.  He adds that today's generation intends for their meals to be “sharable” on line.   

Bottom line: Millennials are not satisfied merely to munch lunch.  They first tweet, THEN eat.  

Presentation, as they say, is everything. It's the...umm...bread and butter of today's foodies.

Forgive me for making an abrupt turn here, but let me ask you.  As someone who appears to be a follower of Jesus, is your testimony mainly about appearance, or are you the real deal?  I'm thinking now of the tray of fake desserts at my favorite restaurant, fabulous imitations of the real thing.  They look astonishingly real but aren't. 

Do you really know Jesus....love Jesus...obey Jesus?  Or is your life mostly about the presentation?  Said another way, do you merely look “astonishingly real” or are you actually born again?  Take heed, lest at the Judgment, Jesus say to you, “Depart from me, I never knew you.”

Why don’t our churches sing more Christmas carols during the Christmas season?  I asked this question last week, inviting your response.  The question is born of the observation that during the Christmas season, many churches are unable (or unwilling) to disconnect entirely from their beloved worship choruses from Chris Tomlin or Hillsong heard the rest of the year. 

Here is a sample of your responses to the question, “Why don’t we sing more Christmas music in church?”

Peter writes,

I have wondered the same thing about carols.  Apparently Christmas carols aren’t trendy?

Ron claims:

Adults don't sing Christmas carols because they learned them when they were children and now that we are all "grown up" we consider them childish.  Bottom line:  it is a matter of pride.

David writes from Ghana,

            We have lost some of our values.

Russ points out,

           We won’t exhaust the Christmas music or “overdo” it in four weeks. We have 48 weeks to sing the rest            of the hymns and every new chorus that comes along.

My brother David, himself a musician and worship leader asserts two possible reasons for the decline of Christmas Carols:

1. A few people feel we've moved beyond hymns or carols and that the music written nowadays is sufficient.

2. Contemporary Christian Music started in the 60's so we've now had a full generation who may never have done a standard hymn (or Christmas carol) in their church. The only musical language they know is Contemporary Christian Music.

Colin offers two reasons for the decline of Christmas carols in church: 

1. Loss of Awe.  I believe we are simply not awed by the concept of the birth of God as a human in the form of the baby Jesus.   

2. Theft of Glory.  "The Glory of the Lord" is used throughout the narration and seeps into all the carols. We glorify the internet, Amazon, the almighty dollar, Black Friday, Cyber Monday....anything BUT the Glory of the Lord Most High.

Great insights.  Worship leaders out there…are you listening?

Four weeks.  Maybe five at the max.  It’s a rather small window of time in which to sing Christmas carols.  That’s ‘cause we don’t sing Joy to the World in April.  And you won’t hear your worship leader inviting you to sing Silent Night in the heat of August.  Why?  Christmas music is for the Christmas season.

So here’s my question—okay, call it a complaint: Why are so many of today’s churches so unwilling to sing exclusively Christmas music during the Advent season?  Sure, everybody mixes in some Christmas carols.  But most churches I’ve observed just can’t quite let go of Ten Thousand Reasons or the latest from Hillsong United.   Why?

We have 48 weeks to sing the regular stuff, so why can’t the Christmas season be exclusively Christmas music?  What is it that today’s worship music leaders fear—or maybe dislike—about Christmas music?  Is it a question of age?  Or do we feel the songs are too slow?

Hear me clearly—I enjoy today’s worship music.  There’s so much to love! But why are we so reluctant to set it aside—all of it—for just four weeks?

Is it a stylistic addiction?  A discomfort with tradition?  A distaste for introspective tunes?  I surely don’t know.  But I’d like to hear your thoughts.    In fact, I’m inviting you to help write one of my next blogs!  Why not share you answer to the question, “Why can’t we sing pure Christmas music” when you email me.  Here’s where to send your thoughts: Jon@jongauger.com. 

I’m definitely interested in your opinion—worship leader or not.  Tell me why you think we’re so afraid to sing plain ol’ Christmas music…at Christmas. 

I must just excerpt your thoughts in a future blog—so be bold.  Meanwhile, enjoy the Christmas music—while you can!

Anticipation gushed like an oil well--and this crowd was fuel hungry.  They came from Tanzania, Ghana, Uganda, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Eritrea—and Kenya.  Nearly 160 in number, these Christian media professionals assembled in Nairobi for intense learning and spiritual encouragement.  Moody Radio calls it a Global Partners Training, where every evening session kicks off with praise music.

Until you have experienced African worship, I would politely suggest your definition of blessing is undersized.  This we were reminded of in surround sound as worship leader Gloria Muliro took to the stage.  Every person in the room seemed engaged, if not electrified.

That's when the power went out.  If you have never been there, night time in Africa brings shades of black darker than what you have previously known as dark.   But as power outages are common, no one panicked.  No one even commented.  Cell phones lit up and the music continued—never skipping so much as a beat—literally.

The singing actually intensified as darkness swallowed up scenery.   Frankly, it seemed to almost magnify the sense of worship.  No keyboard, no amplifiers—no barriers. It was just our voices and our God.  But I should hardly have been surprised by the scene.  

Singing in the dark is what Christ followers have always done.  When the lights have dimmed and hope is gone, Christians sing in the dark.  They sang in the Coliseum.  They sang in the catacombs.  They sang in the Gulag.  Christians sing in the dark because we are people of the Light.  We sing in the dark, because as 1 Timothy 6:16 reminds, we worship Him “who alone is immortal and who lives in unapproachable light.”

Psalms 139:12, “Even the darkness is not dark to thee, and the night is as bright as the day.”

So don't be afraid to sing.

Especially in the dark.

They look soft.  Cute.  Cuddly.  In photos and on television, monkeys are portrayed as adorable critters, albeit with a streak of benign Curious George mischief.  My moments with monkeys suggest otherwise.

In South Africa, a monkey dove through the open door of our resort room, stole the bread off our counter and scampered up a tree with it (glaring at my wife as he stuffed it into his mouth).

In Kenya's Nairobi National Park, small monkeys stretched wildly from branch to branch then skittered down trunks.  All this effort because some from our group were offering the diminutive primates potato chips.  They were clearly accustomed to such exchanges, obviously comfortable snatching the chips from human hands. 

The monkeys were willing to engage us as long as the treats kept coming.  But there was never the slightest hint of gratitude or even simple satisfaction expressed on their furry faces.  No cuddling.  No friendly chatter.  Just a beady-eyed stare in search of more.

As our open-top van trekked through the Nairobi National Park, uncomfortable truth settled on my soul.  You and I—respectable born again folk—are often more like monkeys than men and women in awe of Christ's generosity.

We hungrily snatch every morsel of good that comes our way from the hand of our merciful Savior.  Having consumed one “meal of grace,” we look for another and another and another.  There is scarce thought toward any show of gratitude, humility, and loving dependence.

Like monkeys, we gather around God as long as His hand extends toward us with blessing and provision.  But where is our thanks?  After all, as James 1:17 reminds us, “Every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow."

It’s time to stop acting like monkeys!