I don’t remember how old I was when I learned that Jesus wasn’t born on December 25th. Certainly I was an adult, and most likely I still thought of myself as a Christian. That discovery, though, went a very long way toward unraveling the ties and bonds of my childhood views of religion.
It wasn’t learning the truth about Santa and the chimney that undermined my faith. It was finding the clear hand of man in religious doctrine.
Over many centuries, deft ecclesiastic manipulation of biblical stories, the Solstice, Saturnalia, and ancient pagan traditions created our current mid-winter celebrations — a series of events that are clearly documented.
I know quite a few people who, having rejected the trappings and tales, tossed the baby out with the bathwater. They no longer send cards, or exchange gifts, or decorate their homes. Yet I still celebrate Christmas — an apparent contradiction that confounds (and even angers) my mother.
Unfortunately, there are many people who feel that way. Apparently this holiday season should all be about Jesus — and furthermore, those who do not place him in a manger (mentally or symbolically) are somehow defiling things. Since I was taught that Jesus is essentially synonymous with Love, I find this narrow focus on the tangible extremely frustrating.
Folks… the true spirit of Christmas is love, and the whole point of the exercise is to experience and celebrate it.
The very acts of selfless giving and receiving — whether of gifts, time, or just hugs — create the Joy everyone seeks. One can be Christian, or Jewish, or Humanist, or Buddhist, or Atheist — anything, or even nothing — yet still share this profoundly uplifting and exceedingly human emotional bond.
Superficially, there are a number of differences between how I and my mother — and millions of others — see this season, but there are no spiritual contradictions unless we insist upon them.
It really doesn’t have to be this complicated.