Ten years ago I blogged, in two posts, some thoughts about Christmas, based on reading and learning about the fact that Jesus' birthday is not December 25th. If you're curious, you can find each post here and here.
What prompted me to write this time is a reaction I had on the day after Thanksgiving, when at work (I play piano in nursing homes) one of the singers I work with at this job did a set that included many Christmas songs, primarily the secular ones that sing about Santa Claus, Rudolph the Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman, etc. It was the first time I'd done any of them in a year, so they were fresh to me that day.
My reaction was: "I don't believe in this stuff anymore."
Whoa.
A lot has happened in my life over the last ten years. I moved back to Chicago, started joining a church permanently for the first time in about seven years, worked three long-term jobs, started my own business (in a sense), played in about five different bands, participated or led in at least three different ministries, got baptized... I even had a girlfriend for the first time ever.
Even though ten years ago I had begun developing new opinions about Christmas, I still believed in both the "Jesus" Christmas and the "Santa" Christmas. A year and a half ago, however, I met someone that I now see God used to point out the reality that my faith was dying, and that same someone breathed life back into my faith. We had many, many conversations that involved us building up one another, not only in faith but also in life. Primarily what I got out of it was the idea of a God whose storehouses were full of riches, and that His desire is to bless us.
[To clarify: God blessing us is not the endgame, and believing that it is is dangerous. But what I did not know then was that to believe the opposite -- a God who only was concerned with us "behaving well enough" and would only consider rewarding us if maaaaybe we were "obedient enough" was also toxic and wrong teaching.]
Even though this person and I haven't spoken in a while, I still hear similar messages, shared in different ways, in my circles today. But in the process, as well as a few other faith/growth risks I've been taking the last several months, these truths have not only awoken my connection with Jesus in ways that were not present a year and a half ago, but it has also sharpened how I see truth vs what isn't true.
Don't get me wrong: I get why many American Christians (and believers of many other nations) love Santa Claus. Among many of the reasons: it's a great way for parents to know what their kids want for Christmas; it's a great money-making season for retailers; it's a great seasonal job-creator for store employees, including people to play the role of Santa Claus at malls; and above all, it is magical. The children's story "The Polar Express" left such an impact that, even though I'd forgotten all about the book by the time I had graduated from college, when I heard the kindergarten teacher read the story to her students the year I was serving with AmeriCorps, I found myself transported back to kindergarten myself. And on a more personal level, in the first half of my childhood, Christmases at home still had some magic: we did a tree, did the presents, the midnight mass at church, even Christmas lunch and Christmas dinner. Deep into adulthood, even though I understood that it was really about Jesus, Santa's role still held a special place in my heart.
Sometime in the week following that day at work when I decided I didn't believe the "Santa" Christmas garbage anymore, I came across a Facebook post a contact of mine had written. She recently asked her 2(?)-year-old daughter if she knew who it was when she showed her a picture of Santa Claus. Her daughter had no clue. My contact went on to comment that because of it, her parenting thus far was a success. I agree with her. She went on to say that there is no benefit in lying to our children about some imaginary character that, as a world, we perpetuate. In fact, not only that there is no benefit, but that the lie has damaged people emotionally and spiritually. That right there was confirmation as to my aforementioned gut response to songs like "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer," among others.
More recently, I listened in on a conversation between another coworker and a staff supervisor (neither of whom are believers) at one of the nursing homes I perform at, regarding being more inclusive of all the holidays at this time of year. As I sat in listening, it dawned on me that if our culture holds that "Christmas" is more about Santa (and money, and family, etc) than about Jesus, then there's no point not to be more inclusive and allow Hanukkah and Kwanzaa to be equally represented. If this is the case, then the purported war on "Christmas" that I hear about isn't really a "war", because the "Santa" Christmas is no better and no more true than the other holidays. (In fact, Hanukkah, for its part, is actually more true than the "Santa" Christmas.)
(Note: I do believe at least somewhat that there is a war on the "Jesus" Christmas, but that's for another day.)
I'm opining. A lot, actually. But why?
1.) It's a sign that God really has changed me a lot in the last ten years. I've been going to the same church for almost ten years now. January 17, 2020 will mark the anniversary. It's also a needed reminder, especially in the current season I'm in that has been full of bad days, in light of numerous big and very real life challenges in front of me. On my worst days, I don't see what God has been doing in my life. So this helps.
2.) Unlike a decade ago, when my head-thoughts and opinions on Christmas did shift, my heart-thoughts on Christmas had not. I've loved and still love commemorating Jesus's birth through music and through worship. I've been in the worship band at my church every Christmas Eve for the last, oh, six or seven years now. I'm available; I do it. And more and more, I'm connecting with the music in ways that I don't think I've connected with before. "O Holy Night," which I did not grow up hearing let alone singing, has currently become my favorite song. But, until the last year, deep down I still yearned for the "Santa" Christmas, the family events, the warmth, and above all, the magic. Finally that's shifted.
3.) I'm settling into what Christmas is now: it's a month of Christmas music (which I'm loving); it's volunteer work to perform Jesus'-birth-themed worship songs (including traditional Christmas songs as well as non-traditional songs); it's lunch with my dad (and occasionally, another friend or so) at our traditional restaurant; and it's two days off from work. A very far cry from the magic that I've missed but now moving on from. Still beautiful, nonetheless.
Finally, I do want to take the opportunity to share one story, also from ten years ago:
Ten years ago marked my last gasp at an independent adult life in the state of Minnesota. I had gone to college there. I found a job and an apartment after graduating. (Granted, both processes were very easy, as I had early offers in each case, and accepted almost immediately.) But, a year later, I was out of work, and it was 2009. The job market was terrible. And December of that year was the fourth and final month that my savings had kept me afloat while looking for work.
I really didn't want to return to Chicago. But, it happened. The other thing though was, if I was going to do so, I wanted to do it by Christmas, so I could be back with my family in time. Mid-month, after my last attempt at landing a job fell through, and after my roommate officially moved out (I helped him pack up his furniture in a trailer in zero-degree weather for two days), I had made my decision. I just needed to pack up and get a trailer and drive home in about a week.
But I had been beaten down by how the previous four months had gone. And I didn't have Jesus. At least not in the way I do now. I had no willpower to get myself together to pack everything up, let alone in less than a week. My dad picked up on that and drove up to help me. But the day he came up, December 23rd, a massive snowstorm hit Minnesota. And his car developed an issue that needed to be repaired by a mechanic. As a result, not only was I going to have to return to Chicago, but I was also going to be stuck in Minnesota for Christmas.
It wasn't until a few years later that it dawned on me: the Holy Spirit used this -- me being stuck in Minnesota for Christmas -- as an opportunity for me to really say goodbye to Minnesota. My dad and I were treated to dinner with my then-landlord and his wife on Christmas Day. The night before, we checked out the local Episcopal church that I occasionally visited, and got to enjoy a nice, small, Christmas Eve service. I got to say goodbye to the senior pastor there. And that evening, it was snowing, to the point that even though it was like 10pm, it might well have been dusk and not night. (I'm kind of surprised I never took a picture of the town while walking into the church!)
I share this story, because, in a way, I feel like I'm there now, ten years later. It's much too soon to share about it; the 2019 (into 2020) story is still being written. But I've been getting flooded with all sorts of things God is pointing out and hinting. And the magic surrounding Santa Claus and "The Polar Express" cannot match any of it.
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