In praise of Christmas
Why I no longer object to early Christmas festivities
This is The Meadow, a place to create space for those seeking to be more fully awake and alive in the world.
Happy third day of Christmas! I woke today with a migraine, most likely from sneaking a bite of chocolate cake at 10 pm last night, as I cleaned up leftover desserts from our dining room table. At first, I felt the tendency towards self-loathing—why can’t I stick to my eating plan? Why do I extend the holiday feasting well beyond the actual day of the celebration? I wanted to do anything but sit for my usual morning meditation time. But, since I’m making myself meditate every day, even if only for a few minutes, I sat my butt down in my plastic Adirondack chair on the back porch, turned on Insight Timer for 12 minutes, and turned my attention to the quiet space within me. After a few minutes, my mind settled down, and I began to feel a sense of lightness within, a joy. I remembered my priest’s homily on Christmas Day: Emmanuel means “God with us,” literally, in our midst. In our mess. Just then, I felt it—love surrounding me, despite the aching head, the heaviness from overeating and sleeping in, the lethargy from lack of exercise. There was no judgment in this space at all. Just delight. Just love. My heart broke open a crack, and I began silently weeping to be in the presence of so. much. love.
A few days before Christmas, I was talking with a friend. She has sworn off Christmas, disgusted with how the secular nature of the holiday has eclipsed its spiritual nature. And I get it. Christmas is a time of suffering for many. The lonely, with no one to be with; those with limited incomes, who feel the pressure of having to buy and reciprocate costly presents. The disabled, who can’t participate in many of the festivities. Those have lost loved ones. Those in prison. So, my first response to my friend’s rant was guilt. Guilt that I am enjoying the holiday while so many are not. I, too, used to disdain all the commercialization of Christmas, so much so that I used to tell my spouse not to put up any Christmas decorations until Advent started, and definitely no Christmas music until Christmas Eve.
But I’ve changed. The pandemic and Trump’s first election shifted something in me. I now happily welcome early decorations (though I still prefer to wait until December to start the Christmas music). This year, given the looming reality of Trump’s second term, I was all for starting decorating right after Halloween, to my spouse’s surprise and delight. I didn’t have a good explanation for the change, but my priest’s sermon helped me see my attitude shift towards Christmas in a new light.
As the priest spoke about a God who sent a son to be with us “in our mess,” he described a litany of people struggling in this world, not just those listed above (the sick, lonely, poor, disabled), but also those trapped in addiction, queer people, families divided by politics, and those who have lost loved ones. He reminded us that God is with us in our ache and in all the areas where we feel an absence or lack. As he said, if our lives were good and whole and complete, would we even have needed God to be incarnated?
So Christ comes to a broken world, a vulnerable infant, present to what IS, not to chastise us about how things aren’t or how they ought to be, but to accompany us in this world. And like striking the right chord, his message resonated within me. I felt a deep sense of “of course.” Of course, the world celebrates extravagantly at Christmas. Even secular folks sense something special about this time. For Christians, it is a time to remember that God broke into the world, broke into our poverty, our illness, our loneliness, and our brokenness. For non-Christians, there is still a sense of light winning out of over darkness, of goodness triumphing over evil, of the weak prevailing over the strong and powerful. Of course, the world responds extravagantly, with gifts, and lights, and celebrations, and amazing acts of generosity.
Yes, the celebrations have become too secular. Yes, is it a painful season for many. Yes, but, I don’t think the answer is not celebrating Christmas. I think, like everything in this broken world, there is goodness and something broken or bent in all we do. So, of course, Christmas goes over the top. It doesn’t mean we can’t reclaim it, for our own lives, and for our own families, in a way that is meaningful for us.
But thank goodness Christmas is celebrated! I don’t want to see it go away. I’ve seen so much true goodwill come out at this time. Gifted pastors visiting prisons on Christmas Day. Kids singing carols at a senior care facility, making the residents smile in delight. Small businesses collecting donations for local families. Families opening up their homes to those without family nearby. More than any other time of the year, I see people’s hearts open up and engage in beautiful acts of generosity. Yes, darkness comes out too, but that happens all the time: this world is broken and bent. At Christmas, though, I think we have an echo in our souls that Love wins: it breaks through the darkness. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not overcome it, a message we need now more than ever. And it enters our messy world—it visits our shabby homes and tables and imperfect lives. And loves it all. Loves us as we are, which in itself, inspires us to be more like that light and shine brighter in the world.
And that message—whatever religion (on non-religion) you embrace—is worth celebrating! That message is a message of hope for all the suffering, all the weary, for the fearful and despairing. So, for me, bring on the Christmas carols, bring on the family celebrations. Instead of making my celebration smaller, I want to make it bigger and set more places at the table. If I could, I’d invite the whole world to join me at the table.
I would love to hear from you.
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