Everyone does.
If you’re Christian, some other faith, or faithless, Christmas is special. And I don’t want to hear anything about that American tradition of hyperventilating about a Christmas under siege. Nobody’s holding a sharpened candy cane to baby Jesus’ neck. Pro-tip: Those televised blowhards are trolling. Skip their large-print, easy to read grampa-angering literature. Cast your mind back a few hundred years. Consider this controversy about the construction of an allegedly offensive religious building.
On Christmas Eve 1806, two decades after the [Catholic] church was built, the building was surrounded by Protestants incensed at a celebration going on inside — a religious observance then viewed by some in the United States as an exercise in “popish superstition,” more commonly referred to as Christmas. Protesters tried to disrupt the service. In the melee that ensued, dozens were injured, and a policeman was killed. (Vitello)
Creative Commons photo by By AlicePopkorn (Cornelia Kopp) at Flickr
Our national history is one of ongoing schisms and reinvention. We sure change our mind about things, and Christmas is just another example. We’ve adapted and re-adapted the celebration a bunch of times. It’s different now, and whatever it may be, it’s bigger than us.
For our family, it’s about festivity, music, presents, parties, and a thousand variations of Dickens’ classic tale. I’ll take ‘em all (but, especially the one with Patrick Stewart. Make it so.) Then we’ll read the original Dickens, too. We can’t get enough.
Gimme some florid prose and the scent of pine and I’m good to go. In the right frame of mind, the goodwill flows more smoothly. Persistent anxiety can be somewhat submerged by the Christmas spirit. Snow helps, too.
If you forced all the holidays into a bare-knuckle cage match, Christmas would emerge triumphant. The other holidays just don’t stand a chance. Back in 2008, over at Slate, Torie Bosh perfectly summed things up. It certainly feels familiar.
Even without believing in the divinity of Jesus, I think that I mark the holiday the same way as many of the faithful—a time to donate to causes I believe in, to welcome the winter from the comfort of a warm home, and, most importantly, to reconnect with family and friends. It’s not that I dislike or have anything against religion. I admire, even envy the faithful, and I don’t consider myself an atheist. But I can’t fake a religious feeling I don’t possess. And I’d rather celebrate Christmas my way—with gifts, a tree, and eating and drinking too much—than to lie to myself and to whatever god is out there by hypocritically going through the sacred motions of the traditional holiday. (Bosch)
I don’t know much about the sacred beyond my universal head scratching, I just know that when you have an excuse to celebrate brotherhood in the face of the world’s bewildering abominations, you go for it. Faith or no faith. God or no god. Flying fat men bearing gifts are optional, but the carols must be sung. Our claymation friends need some attention. Grab an ornament and get busy. Or don’t. Nobody can claim ownership, so celebrate as you like. It’s yours.
