Maybe it’s the fallen leaves, the post-Thanksgiving heartburn or the icy sidewalks. Whatever the reason, this time of year always seems to bring out the little ax grinder in all of us. It’s when “Merry Christmas” doesn’t mean “Merry Christmas,” but that someone has thrown down the gauntlet.
The first fracas usually happens in the workplace. My hat goes off to anyone with the duty of Company Christmas Party Planner (aka the Corporate Sacrificial Lamb). Having once been drafted into wearing those hooves myself, I feel your pain. The ordinary observer will never know the untold grief of planning this event, from not offering enough vegan dinner menu choices to distributing party invitations that are too ecumenical.
‘Tis the season for celebration, not toil. So, we next focus on more important things, such as holiday parades. We fine-tune our antennas to pick up on the slightest hint of a sinister motive. Is that electric bumblebee a craftily disguised relic of some forbidden ancient tradition? Down with it!
We debate whether there are enough nativity scenes at the municipal edifices we pass. We compare the numbers of menorahs and Christmas trees in store windows.
And then come the cards. We expend precious beads of sweat pondering whether to wish someone “Cheery Yuletide,” “Happy Hanukkah,” “Joyful Kwanzaa” or the relatively neutral “Seasons Greetings.”
The latter greeting, or something of the like, is probably the most appropriate because, as it turns out, much of what we associate with the holiday season is based on customs that have been misunderstood over the years.
It used to get my goat when people minimized the word “Christmas” in favor of the more politically correct alternatives. Then I found out that Jesus wasn’t even born in December – it was in March or September, depending on which school of thought you favor.
“How could this be?” I reeled.
It’s one of those odd twists in history. In the fourth century, as the Roman Empire was trying to make the changeover from paganism to Christianity, staunch polytheists did not warm to the transition. To help facilitate the switch, the Romans scheduled Christmas to coincide with the existing pagan celebrations around the winter solstice.
Now, 1,600 years later, it’s nothing short of a wonderment that we Americans are still getting so wound up over the “Merry Christmas” controversy. I mean, even our Puritan founders – knowing of its pagan origins – downplayed Dec. 25, and saw Christmas as merely an excuse by heathens to get drunk and shoot guns.
But, of course, the Puritans didn’t have Madison Avenue to contend with. Or Wall Street. Or Hollywood. And when those three join forces each December, watch out. I’m sure if St. Paul were to return, he would have no idea whether what he was witnessing had anything remotely to do with Jesus Christ. What once was a day that fundamentalist Christians mostly ignored is now seen by modern followers as a mockery of their faith.
The convoluted lore of Dec. 25 has caught the attention of talking heads. Fox News’ Bill O’Reilly recently justified widespread use of “Merry Christmas” by saying that if it were not for Christmas, U.S. businesses would be far less profitable.
Now there’s some meat-and-potatoes Christian theology for you. Because, as everybody knows, Jesus was all about material wealth.
Still, there is one fact no one can debate: Winter solstice does happen each year around this time, and the season changes as a result of the celestial positioning of the Earth.
Even for atheists who think this is a result of a gigantic cosmic accident and who object to non-sectarian greetings like “Happy Holidays” (which comes from “Happy Holy Days”), believers like me can still wish them seasonal good cheer (or perhaps just seasonal cheer, since “good” is derived from “God”). And we can feel comfortable saying this because we believe some deity is responsible for the seasons, and we aren’t compromising our faith by greeting atheists based on a planetary phenomenon we believe was God’s doing in the first place.
I wonder what would happen if Christmas celebrations were moved to March to quell some of the commotion. Bill O’Reilly probably wouldn’t be pleased, but maybe everyone else would put their battle axes back in the shed. That is, until someone started sending out “Happy Vernal Equinox” cards.
Joel Hughes is a financial analyst in Littleton.
