The Joy of Christmas

It's "that time of the year" again, the time of year that Johnny Mathis tells us is "the most wonderful time of the year," with the principal themes being snow and presents and flying reindeer and Christmas trees and housebreaking elves and joy and oh yeah... there's often something in there about Jesus and shepherds and Heavenly Hosts of angels, too.

With all of that going on, it's easy to see how some people (those who overthink everything, mostly) might become conflicted about "the true meaning of Christmas."  That's  a no-win question to ask, though, because obviously Christmas (like almost everything else) is in the eye of the beholder.  As Lassie's grandfather, Gene Lockhart, pronounces from the bench in the 1947 classic (i.e., the "real") movie "Miracle on 34th Street," when it comes to Santa Claus, at least, "Many people firmly believe in him.  Others do not."  It should go without saying that the same holds true for Jesus of Nazareth.

Believers of all stripes tend to agree that Christmas is supposed to be a time for fellowship and good cheer and helping the poor.  (You should have gotten all the giving of thanks out of the way a few weeks ago, because there's a special holiday just for that, backed up by a Presidential proclamation.)  Gift-giving is also very important, and it is the absolute only time you're going to see wonderful holiday treats like egg nog and fruitcake.  (Brrr!)

Christmas is a time for family, they say, and that's probably one of the reasons that Christmases all tend to blur together over the years, because families are steeped in crazy traditions.  According to my mother, in my birth family we had a tradition of never eating Christmas dinner.  For a while I was married, and in my "in-law" family they had a tradition of having two Christmas trees and a six-hour stint of gift exchanges that began at 4 a.m. and involved literally dozens of packages for each person (some of which were "real" presents, and some of which were stuff like tubes of toothpaste and rolls of tape.)  And sometimes families vow, for one reason or another, not to decorate, "gift," or celebrate at all and the day winds up as gloomy as almost any other day in houses like that.

We had a thing for a couple of years called "The War on Christmas," and what was up with that?  Apparently, some large retailers decided (or were pressured into deciding, depending upon whom you ask) that their sales would improve if they dropped all references to Christmas and just stuck to "Holiday Sales."  This was a big mistake, obviously.  First of all, those who celebrate Christmas, at least in part, because it is the date appointed as the anniversary of the birth of Jesus H. Christ were mortally offended, and immediately struck back with protests and boycotts.  Secondly, sales did not go up because of the misguided effort at "inclusiveness," because people who weren't celebrating "Christmas" weren't planning on buying gifts because of it, and changing to the "Holiday" signage did nothing to change their plans in that respect.

The people who argue that Christmas has morphed into a largely secular holiday have a valid point.  It isn't Jesus who's out there peddling all that merchandise, it's Santa.  And although Santa is, at least nominally, derived from legends of the Christian St. Nicholas, the character that we worship these days is as Pagan as all get-out, what with his magic arts and flying forest animals and Druid-inspired Christmas trees.  Basically, though, the holiday is two holidays, peacefully co-existing for the most part, because the Jesus Nativity story is alive and well and makes everybody feel good, too, albeit in a quieter, less expensive way.

The "holidays," including most especially Christmas, can be tough on people psychologically because sometimes the joy can be hard to come by.  If you're sitting in the dark without power or Christmas movies on TV, if your family is far away and there's no one to feast with, or if you've lost your "Christmas Spirit" and are consumed by doubt and despair, you've also got to contend with the inevitable feelings of guilt that arise when you realize that you are miserable at "the most wonderful time of the year."  Unless you're one of the lucky ones whom Santa comes bounding down the chimney to take on a life-changing sleigh ride or three ghosts undertake to "scare straight," you might feel a little lost.

But there is a cure for that, if you dare to take it.  Struggle into your snow gear, hit the streets and start spreading the cheer yourself.  Walk up to the first person that you meet (if they don't look too dangerous) and wish him or her a "Merry Christmas."  They'll probably say it right back, if only reflexively, and you'll start to feel good.  Repeat as often as necessary as you continue walking to the local liquor store for those Christmas Spirits, and don't spend a lot of time dwelling on the fact that whomever you just "Merry Christmased" might be back there scratching his or her head wondering exactly what you meant by that remark.  It's the "Holidays."  Chillax.