Talking about Jesus with non-Christian friends is a lot like talking about sex with children. The parallel is imperfect, I know. Still, I'm surprised at how much insight can be drawn from such a comparison. Think about it with me.

First of all, conversations about Jesus or about sex are best done in the context of relationship. Not that open-air preaching or 7th grade health classes are inappropriate; they're just not the most effective. Such significant conversations typically work a lot better when nurtured by hours and hours of developing and observing a trustworthy relationship. Just like kids are naturally inclined to trust their parents for life's most important lessons (provided, of course, that the parents generally prove themselves to be trustworthy), non-Christians will be a lot more willing to listen to a friend sharing about Jesus if they're confident that the friendship is a real friendship: not just some bait-and-switch evangelistic technique. On the other hand, if some stranger just walks up and starts unloading on a non-Christian about Jesus, or unloading on an elementary school kid about sex, it just feels perverse and inappropriate. On rare occasions, such random interactions can work out all right -- especially when involving direct questions and audience-appropriate answers reflecting a sense of delicacy and propriety. But more often than not, the uninitiated can walk away from these out-of-the-blue interactions feeling violated and disturbed.

Secondarily, my experience suggests that Jesus-education and sex-education work best when given in small doses -- not in one awkward, overwhelming information dump. With our children, for instance, my wife and I started their "sex-education" very young -- with simple bath-time reminders about the privacy of one's private parts (aimed at protecting them from any kind of inappropriate touching). As they grew and became aware of their bodies, we spoke frankly with them about the proper names and functions for each part of the human anatomy. And when we sensed the time was right -- based on a subjective analysis of their mental development and social stimuli -- we deliberately filled them in on the more complete picture of how sex works and what sex means. With our children, this has pretty much meant "full disclosure" by early elementary school age: not too early in life, before they were really ready to handle such information, but not too late in life either, after they'd already figured things out for themselves through alternative sources of information (or misinformation). Timely, relaxed, contextualized, candid, and considerate communication has informed our children's sex-education each step of the way, and as a result we've never really had the awkward "moment of epiphany." Their awareness of sex has simply developed as the rest of their consciousness has developed. It's been great, honestly. But how often do Christians get to experience this same dynamic in their attempts at "Jesus-education" among their non-Christian friends?

Too often, we put too much emphasis on "The Talk." And too often, this happens too late in the relationship (if ever). Perhaps it's because this is how we, ourselves, first learned about Jesus or about sex -- but our minds naturally seem to drift towards this image of a single, solemn, monumental presentation of all the relevant information in one sitting. We get nervous about giving "The Talk," but eventually we psyche ourselves up for it and plow through it with little awareness of how the information is actually being received. Then, we give a little slap on the back, say "I'm glad that we had this talk," and then go on about our business without ever checking back in for further processing. It doesn't work well for middle-school children learning about sex, and it doesn't work well for non-Christians learning about Jesus.

Finally, the attitude of the initiated toward the subject sets the tone for everything. Those of us who are coming from a place of experience can make it seem really awkward and uncomfortable -- even as we're trying to say how natural and how great it really is to know Jesus, or to experience sex. It's in our non-verbals, as well as the language that we use to describe things. If the initiated individual is comfortable talking about the subject, then the uninitiated will also feel comfortable most of the time. But awkwardness breeds awkwardness, and sometimes these conversations can go so badly that we're emotionally-scarred for many years thereafter.

I don't always handle these conversations perfectly -- either with Jesus-education or with sex-education -- but I'm learning as I go. And if you ask me, learning is a very good thing.

Last week, my two oldest children got into an argument about the use of stickers. Stirred up by the argument, my son later wrote a threatening letter to his sister. And as unfortunate as the letter itself might have been, the real kicker was this: he signed the letter with his own blood.

Marci and I were concerned, to say the least. Where could he have picked up such a dark and disturbing idea as signing one's name in blood?!? Was it some occultic ritual he'd absorbed from this Dutch fantasy series he's been reading in recent months? Had he stumbled across a clip from some horror film on YouTube? Was it something he heard from negative influences at school? What perverse cultural influence had so poluted our sweet, innocent child to come up with the idea to sign a threatening letter in blood?!?

We didn't know, so we simply asked. Kind of non-chalant-like: "So, umm... Where did you get the idea to sign a letter with blood?"

"From Tom Sawyer."

Mark Twain's great classic of American literature. The incomparable epic of boyhood adventure. The story of making mischief and playing practical jokes, playing pirates and discovering buried treasure, trucking in spooky caves and haunted houses. I'd really say that "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" is a must-read for any red-blooded American boy (except, perhaps, for the fact that it apparently stimulates such boys to put their red blood to paper, in imitation of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn). Instead of shock and concern over the influence of some perverse propaganda -- I actually felt kind of proud and gratified that my son was boning up on great literature.

Still, I had to ask him what he did to get the blood for his signature.

Turns out it was an Oral-B toothpick, which "always" made his gums bleed when he cleaned his teeth anyway. So not only was my boy processing and assimilating great literature; he was doing it while exercising proper dental hygeine!

Funny, isn't it, how quickly one's perception of a situation can change, through just asking a few questions? Unfortunately, there wasn't a "bright side" to the original argument about stickers or the threatening tone to the pencil part of the letter... But we talked through things and provided some needed correction regarding those items. And in the end, we all came out more educated from the process.

Wearing one of his mother's winter-strength headbands and his brother's hand-me-down basketball jersey, Cor flashed back and forth across the gymnasium with a smile as wide as a three-point arc. Mimicking his brother, even as his brother mimicked his (their) basketball hero, this "Little LeBron" was joy personified.

Joy is contagious. The other boys in the gym picked up on the joy and reflected it back to this boy who was significantly younger and smaller than the rest of them. The other parents watched the children chasing each other and laughing hysterically, and they absorbed and amplified the joy too. As I watched the joy and smiles spread across the oversized room, my joy and my smile became the biggest of all.

Four-year-olds can be a challenge. My Cor has a hard time sitting still for longer than 45 seconds. He makes messes in his room like a tornado on the Great Plains. He whizzes all over the inside of the toilet, the outside of the toilet, the floors next to the toilet, the walls next to the toilet, the pants around his ankles in front of the toilet... He is unashamedly self-centered when it comes to holiday gift-giving (or, from his point of view, "gift-receiving"). His emotions are untamed, like a wolverine. And at times, these less-than-ideal aspects of living with a four-year-old can overshadow everything else.

Then along comes a "Little LeBron" sort of moment, and all of the challenges are put in perspective. I love his funny faces and ferocious hugs. I love his ridiculous outfits. And even in the face of his four-year-old foibles, I love the heartfelt hangdog apologies for his "askidents."

I love my four-year-old.

This weekend, we've had the privilege of celebrating both St. Maarten's Day (the 11th of November) and the arrival of Sinterklaas in the Netherlands (usually the third, or in this case the fourth, Sunday before the 5th of December). We've really come to enjoy these uniquely Dutch traditions.

It seemed to me that Sint Maarten's Day this year was more substantial than it usually is. Perhaps it's because it happened to fall on a Friday evening this year... Or perhaps it's because we just had three kids who were all in the right age range for getting into things... Or perhaps it's just because we went out with a bigger group from the kids' school, to mark the occasion. I don't know, but several of the Dutch parents also remarked on the phenomenon which was almost unknown to them in their childhood. In any event, Sint Maarten's Day just seemed like a bigger deal this year.

Not that it's really all that much hoopla. It's like a cross between American Christmas carrolling (in that there's singing involved) and American trick-or-treating (in that there's candy involved). Paper lanterns are thrown in there as a part of the mix, too. I made a little video clip of the occasion, in case you're curious. It's actually a very simple holiday... but a nice one.

Sinterklaas's arrival in the Netherlands, on the other hand, actually seemed to be something of a smaller celebration this year. Perhaps it was government cut-backs in the Sinterklaas budget... Or perhaps it was because of the fact that we've got one kid who's starting to grow out of the Sinterklaas phase (Elliot) plus one kid who's still a bit intimidated by the whole deal (Cor)... Or perhaps it's just that there's no novelty left in Sinterklaas for me, as a cross-cultural observer... In any event, it just felt slightly less significant this year.

Indeed it's interesting to watch the way that the collective cultural consciousness works in matters of Sinterklaas. Basically all of the kids in Elliot's class have now come to the full realization of the Sinterklaas myth (i.e. "He's not real"), and as such there actually seems to be something of a backlash among his peers. They don't want to have anything to do with such "baby stuff." They're too cool to watch the Sinterklaas Journaal (daily television program) now. They've left Sinterklaas behind them, at least for now. It actually creates a strange dynamic now with Elliot, who has always known the full extent of the Sinterklaas myth but still got swept up in the whole phenomenon, just for the fun of it. He doesn't feel any need to abandon the joys of Sinterklaas... but I wonder how much longer that will last. It's funny to watch kids grow up.

Just for the sake of balance, I'll also include a video clip of Sinterklaas's steamship cruising through the Nieuwe Herengracht...

In any event, I wish you a wonderful holiday season -- wherever you are, and whichever culture's set of holidays you might be celebrating!