Some years back I wrote a piece for Alex's previous blog, Dead to My Flesh, about the Holiday Season and why having a War on Christmas makes little sense if you don't know which one you're shooting at. Since the Divine Ms Sarah, (or as I like to think of her, the Lina Lamont of the Republican Party), has just come out with a book opening her own salvo in that War, I think now's a good time to recycle my take on The Two Christmases:
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For a while back when I lived in Darkest Iowa, I shared a duplex
apartment with my wacky brother Steeve and my friend Scott. One year, Scott
asked me to draw some Christmas cards for him to send to his Internet friends.
This was around 1990, back in the caveman days. We didn't actually have
Internet access ourselves, but Scott had borrowed a friend's university account
and spent a lot of his free time on a computer bulletin board based out of the
University of Iowa. For a while, both Scott and I were forum moderators at that
site, (despite the fact that neither of us were students at U of I and in fact
I was an alumnus of Iowa State).
I drew three different designs for him. One was a parody of Clement
Moore's "A Visit from St. Nicholas" featuring the bulletin board's
Sysop. One was a fairly bland one with a picture of a computer made out of
snow. The third one bore the message "Have a Happy and Blessed
Christmas Season."
"You can't say that," Scott said.
"Why not?"
"Because a lot of the people on my list are wiccans and atheists
and agnostics. They'd be offended!"
Personally, I didn't see why they should. The message wasn't making any
kind of religious statement; it just extended good wishes. My own attitude was,
to paraphrase Bette Midler, if they can't take a blessing, screw `em. But since
I was doing the cards for Scott in the first place, I acceded to his wishes and
changed the message to a non-controversial "Greason's Seetings."
I think about Scott and his cards when I hear about the "War on
Christmas". I suppose my experience should put me on the side of the Righteous
Warriors out to protect Baby Jesus from the Evil Secularists. Somehow, though,
I can't get that worked up about it. If a cashier wishes me a "Happy
Holidays", she's expressing a hope that nice things happen; the same as if
she had said "Merry Christmas," "Groovy Kwanzaa",
"Swingin' Solstice" or "May the Great Bird of the Galaxy roost
on your planet." I don't have to celebrate any of those things to
recognize and appreciate nice intentions. In the same way, I don't have to
consider it an affront to God if somebody says "gesundheit"
when I sneeze instead of "God bless you." Take it in the spirit in
which it's given.
At one time I used to get all bent out of shape about the
Secularization of Christmas. I particularly detested the deification of Santa
Claus. When I was in junior high and full of adolescent anger and
self-righteousness, I wrote an abrasive, curmudgeonly piece on the subject
which upon saner reflection I threw away. A thirteen-year-old curmudgeon is not
a pretty thing. My views towards Ol' Saint Nick have mellowed since then as I
have come to accept what I call The Two Christmases.
There are two holidays celebrated on December 25th. One, of course, is
the Feast of the Nativity, when Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus. Then
there's the other holiday, the Feast of Jingle Bells and Jolly Fat Men in Red
Suits and Reindeer with Luminous Noses. Both holidays happen to have the same
name, but they're different.
I celebrate both; and I don't see why the two need to be mutually
exclusive.
Where the Christmas Warriors get it wrong is where they assume that the
holiday has to be either one or the other. To a certain extent, I can
sympathize with their point. I worship Christ, the holiday's namesake; and it
does bother me when the earthly Babel sounds of the secular festivities drown
out the song which the blessed angels sing. The Puritans felt this way and so
they banned Christmas all together when they ruled England under Cromwell. Which
is a funny way to honor a man who loved parties and who used feasts in his
parables to represent the Kingdom of Heaven.
Christmas, as it is celebrated today, has a rich and varied tradition;
sacred and secular, spiritual and commercial, tacky and sublime. There's a lot
of Christmas stuff that I deeply love, despite having no connection to the
Nativity story and only a tenuous connection, if that, to my religious
convictions: family get-togethers, the giving of gifts, Vince Guaraldi`s piano
music for "A Charlie Brown Christmas", just about any adaptation of A
Christmas Carol, Thurl Ravenscroft singing "You're a Mean One, Mr.
Grinch".
When I was little, our family had a devotional booklet that we used
every Christmas called The Talking Christmas Tree. Instead of setting up
the Christmas tree and decorating it all at once, we'd put it together bit by
bit. The first night we'd just put up the tree. The second night we'd add the
lights. Then little by little we'd add more to the tree and we'd have a devotion
talking about how each addition could symbolize something about God.
Now I know that most of those decorations, and the tree itself, can be
traced back to pagan sources, which is why the Puritans had such a problem with
the holiday. But part of the joy of Christmas comes not from purging the
religious holiday of all secular dross, but rather of finding things in the
holiday bramble that enrich and illuminate the spiritual aspects.
(According to one story, Martin Luther put up the first Christmas tree.
Walking home one winter, he was so struck by the beauty of stars shining though
the evergreens that he brought a tree home and put lighted candles in its
branches so his family could see. And right after that, Philip Melanchthon
invented fire insurance. This story is almost certainly untrue; other scholars
trace the decorating of trees back to pre-Christian times; still, it's a good
story).
It works both ways. Just as Christians can enrich their celebrations
with aspects of the secular holiday, so too can Christian elements filter out
into to world at large. Usually these elements are diluted: sentimental crèche
scenes, platitudes of "Peace on Earth", Madonna and Child postage
stamps; but God's Word does not return empty; not even when it's been wrapped
in tinsel.
If we limit Christmas to only Christ - which I do believe is the most
important part - then we also exclude those who aren't Christian from the
holiday; we become in effect dogs in the manger. If we actually wind up driving
people away from that manger, then we ain't doing Baby Jesus any favors.
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