Bilerico Report

Christians may irk, but Christmas doesn’t

christmas-for-carol

I am well-known for my disagreements with Christianity and certain Christians. Christmas, though, just melts my heart. There’s the fact that presents are involved, and I do love presents. But there’s something else about Christmas that snared me when I was so young I couldn’t tell a Christian from a Jew from a Hindu.

It’s this: Who can resist a holiday about hope?

Don’t take this as an attack on other holidays. I was born in 1952 in Detroit, Mich., and raised in a suburban home in the Christian tradition in an overwhelmingly Christian culture. I’ve dabbled in Buddhism, and warmed myself on a few Solstice fires, but I don’t know enough about the holidays of those or any other religion to write knowledgeably about them. Even more importantly, I didn’t sing Buddhist chants, or toddle through Solstice celebrations as a preschooler.

I hung old-fashioned (and probably dangerous) lead tinsel sparkling on Christmas trees. I put up green and blue ornaments and wrapped packages in glossy red paper. I sang along with Mitch Miller on “Hark, The Herald Angels Sing,” and thought I was singing about a little angel named Hark.

I heard the Christmas story recited with reverence year after year. Although that recitation was on TV (by Linus at the end of “A Charlie Brown Christmas”), it still meant something to me. Christmas stuck deep in my heart in a place that can only be reached when footie pajamas are the norm and teddy bears accompany you to bed each night.

In my not-too-observant Protestant family, Easter was nothing more than a big meal. Christmas, on the other hand, was Hope and Love, and something even more amazing: Christmas was when we stopped doing, scolding, hurting, yelling and acknowledged that life could be about something else.

I don’t remember that we had a name for this thing that Christmas was about. But I do remember that miracles were supposed to be involved. At the time, I wished fervently for peace in my own family. Even though that miracle didn’t come when I was a child, I still took heart from the fact that wonders could and did show up in other people’s houses.

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