Black Friday is indeed the perfect name for the day after Thanksgiving. It is a dark and scary day -- if you are foolish enough to brave crowds and mayhem in search of the "screaming deals" that beckon, often beginning at 4 a.m. in the morning. Heck, for many of us that's about the time we go to bed, so why on earth would we even consider dragging ourselves out of bed, exhausted and bleary-eyed, to save $2 on a DVD?

And then there are the crowds. I doubt there are many readers of this column who have made pilgrimage to Mecca. For Muslims it is one of the Five Pillars of Islam and, for them, a sacred and symbolic experience involving ritual cleansing, the symbolic sacrifice of self, and a profession of devotion to God. However, with upwards of 2.5 million making annual pilgrimage and notorious bottlenecks along the way, hundreds have died in the inescapable crush of people. Several years ago 345 were trampled to death in the relentless press of humanity that impelled people forward. Imagine the terror those poor stumbling individuals felt as they lost balance and fell under the feet of the pressing hordes.

But hey, we don't need to try to imagine what this is like. All we need to do in America these days is pay our devotions to America's gods -- money and materialism -- to experience the same terror. We get up at 3 a.m., ritually throw on our sweats, grab our credit cards, make silent prayer that we have not reached our credit limit -- because who can afford to pay cash these days -- and line up in front of those infamous sprawling discount stores awaiting the ceremonial opening of the "gates." If we are lucky we are not crushed to death in the mash of people pressing ever vigorously toward the inward-bending sliding glass doors. And when they do open, the fun is just beginning as we sprint madly toward the electronic aisle for one of the only four items on hand advertised as "specials -- while supplies last" in the newspaper. If we are lucky enough to get one into our hands, which may or may not involve -- for the fanatically obsessed -- hair-pulling, kicking and punching, we still need to be willing to defend our merchandise as we careen toward the next item on our list or rush for the checkout counter so that we can dash to the next store on our shopping rounds.

Ah, CHRISTMAS -- do I even dare mention the word today without facing intimidation and threats of lawsuits? What has this celebration, intended to remember the birth of the Savior of the world, become in our consumer-driven society? I wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, we have forgotten the meaning of "CHRISTmas" and in the process we have lost from our lives the spirit of Christmas. Though it sounds oxymoronic -- and is intended to -- the phrase that best captures the spirit of Christmas may well be "less is more." Less shopping, less accumulating, less debt, less junk, less turning from the Savior, less "me." More giving, more charity, more time pondering the life and infinite sacrifice of the Son of God and Savior of the world. As Isaiah so perfectly reminds each of us, this is not the season for conspicuous consumption but the season to revel in the birth of the Son of God by remembering, "For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace."

For Black Friday, I refused to pay tribute to the twin gods of money and materialism. Will I shop during the Christmas season -- of course! But on Black Friday, I was home, snacking on left-over turkey, listening to music that glorifies the Savior of the world, and putting up a few CHRISTmas decorations. And every day of this season, and of the year, I will make time to read, ponder, and draw closer to my Redeemer, the Redeemer of the world.