David Ruleman, WAVA Vice President & General Manager Dear Gate Keepers,

We have heard from more people this year than ever telling us how WAVA programming has changed their lives. The impact of the message of Jesus Christ is even more poignant during the Christmas season.

People are surrounded by the message while shopping, dining and listening to WAVA. We want to make you aware of the opportunities we offer you to reach WAVA listeners that are not believers, newcomers to the area searching for a church or others in need of a home church.

Opportunities exist for you to advertise special services and programs scheduled during the Christmas season and in the New Year. And, opportunities exist to present short teaching messages or a complete service on WAVA.

We are thrilled that so many people are being reached by the gospel on WAVA but we know that we cannot change the city or the culture. It is the church that God has appointed change agent in the world. We hope you will invite WAVA listeners to make you’re their home church.

Please call Station Manager Tom Moyer at 703.807.2266 or send an e-mail to tomm@wava.com to find out how we can best serve you.

David Ruleman
Vice President / General Manager
WAVA, 105.1FM & 780AM

WAVA's Gate Keepers Newsletter is sponsored by:

John R. Garza of
Garza, Regan and Associates, P.C.

INJURY ATTORNEYS
Immediate Case Review

Contact Us at: (301) 340-8200 or by e-mail at
jgarza@garzanet.com

Greetings,

To Søren Kierkegaard, the Danish church reformer, Christmas was absurd. The biblical Yuletide story, complete with a virgin, baby, angels and a host of other nativity guests, was utterly irrational. “Nobody would have done it that way.” And that, Kierkegaard concluded, was what made Christmas so perfect.

During the early 1800’s the Church of Denmark had numbed the hearts of its people. Pastors were glorified civil servants. Sermons were pretentious rhetoric. If scripture didn’t fit, it was dismissed. “After all,” declared church leadership, “if God seems confused, it doesn’t mean we have to be!” Worship became empty and mechanical. The warm hope of the gospel had quickly cooled.

That’s where Kierkegaard came in. His fight to personalize the Christian’s belief served as a blowtorch to the icy Church of Denmark. And his theological trump card was faith.

“By necessity,” Kierkegaard reasoned, “believing in Christ is completely irrational. No one can be born into God’s family by objective examination. You must take a leap of faith.”

And Christmas, as Kierkegaard saw it, was the classic example of Christianity’s absurdity, a showcase of God’s divine trademark—logical impossibilities. “An infinite and eternal God became a finite and mortal man!” The Dane never tired of that profound paradox, or its appeal.

One day, while explaining the Christmas message, he told a story of a mighty king who had fallen hopelessly in love with a beautiful young maiden in his kingdom. But, the king wondered, how does royalty pursue a mere commoner?

Should his entourage descend on her cottage with blaring trumpets?

Should he dazzle her with his royal crown, kingly robe and title?

Should his minions parade his wealth as he kneels to ask for her hand in marriage?

Or, should he simply demand her betrothal. After all, as sovereign ruler he was entitled to the queen of his choice.

But, if he used his rightful authority, how would he ever know if she truly loved him?

Ultimately, the wise king chose to lay aside his crown, riches and glory. If he was to win her it would be as her equal. Alone, he arrived in the woods disguised as a beggar, seeking first her acceptance, then her love.

Kierkegaard’s story is the incarnation. The undoable was nicely done. The unthinkable was well thought out. Absurdity got an A+. “And we beheld His glory…”

For the first time in eternity’s history, The Almighty stepped completely out of character as He took on humanity’s weak form. Nobility was forsaken as He became a lowly Jew. He was mothered by a virgin, thereby casting doubts and stirring rumors of His legitimacy. He was born in poverty, thus alienating Him from influential decision makers.

This couldn’t be right, could it?

And, if that wasn’t enough, the timing of His birth was all wrong—a godless political party was in power thus blocking the path to His rightful throne.

Even His big debut—Christmas’ opening night—appeared terribly disorganized. Where was the palace? Where was His royal crib? How could the King of kings possibly be born in a stable? And, who picked Podunk Bethlehem for a location? Get real!

A well designed plan by the Creator? Apparently not. Is this the best Omnipotence can do? Madison Avenue would have laughed. What will this God think of next? A cross?

He’s a God of logical impossibilities.

And deep within God’s bazaar Christmas agenda was His choice of messengers to spread this divine news. Who would He pick? Who would qualify? The obvious choice would have been His sinless, beautiful, powerful angels. But, as usual, God had a different plan. He chose shepherds—defective human volunteers—to pass the word.

And to every succeeding generation He’s searched for new recruits who will faithfully declare the Christmas story. Naively, we’ve volunteered. And, just like that, we’ve become His latest logical impossibility.

Isn’t our God full of surprises!