Merry Christmas

December 24, 2011

I usually don’t get involved with
discussions involving politics or religions but I have a certain bee buzzing
around in my bonnet. It has to do with
the de-naming of “Christmas.” Now, I
consider myself to be a fair person of average tolerance regarding Canadian
multiculturalism. From time to time I do
weigh in on subjects that push my feminist equality buttons. This year, for some reason – and I think it
has to do with the number of e-cards I receive which dance around the word “Christmas”
– my internal defence mechanism kicked in by about card no. 14.

So far I have received the following euphemistic
phrases on greeting cards: Happy Yule, Happy Holidays, Joyous Winter
Celebrations (as opposed to cards that enthusiastically announce June 21st
as the official beginning of summer, no “Let’s Celebrate Not Having to Shovel
Cold, White, Shit Out Of Our Driveways For The Next Three Months Or So” – so far
none have shown up in my in-box), Season’s Greetings (that old stand-by),
Winter Solstice, ad infinitum…just as long as the sender doesn’t feel he or she
is offending someone by using the word “Christmas.” Why not go all the way and join R. Lee Ermey’s
Marines by singing “Happy Birthday, Jesus” with all the blind enthusiasm that
prevents getting your teeth kicked in by Gunny.

Who decided Christmas was a bad word? And when did it become so passé to wish someone
“Merry Christmas”? Why did something
that has been so acceptable in Christendom for over 2000 years suddenly become
taboo? Let me think about this for a
moment and I’ll get back to you.

I personally love Christmas. I love everything about Christmas. I like the music, the lights, the frantic
rush, the endless baking, the exhaustion and I love complaining about it. Of
course, I was raised in a Christian household.
My mother was a practicing High Anglican and my father, at some point in
time, went to a parochial school in Montreal, complete with creeping nuns
dressed in black. The celebration of
Christmas was mandatory. Belief was as
unquestionable as the sun rising or the rain falling. My great-grandmother, the reigning matriarch
of our family, had a basic grade school education but could quote the bible
backwards and forwards and had a rather large, worn tome which met with the
back of my head or my rear end more than once in my life. Jesus was the son of God and that was
that. You celebrated his birth on
December 25th, no questions asked.

From a theological point of view, you could
break down through layers of semantics and get to the heart of Christ’s
origins. He was Jewish. So is Adam Sandler and everyone else he sings
about in The Hanukkah Song, which, by the way, I find hilarious everytime I
hear it. While I’ve never heard of Jesus
playing with a Dredl or exchanging chocolate gelt with his Hebrew playmates, I
certainly wouldn’t raise an eyebrow if that’s what went down. He preached the word of God. His disciples brought the idea of
Christianity into play at the risk of being crucified or eaten by lions. Somewhere along the line, Christianity grew
along with the settling of the Western World.
Our English and European ancestors told us that celebrating this day was
important and we’ve all merrily rolled along.
The little Hebrew kid is over 2000 years old now. I really think it’s too late to change the
party invitations.

Now I come to the heart of this blog. Those who disapprove of the word “Christmas” –
DO SO AT YOUR PERIL! If you don’t like
Christmas or feel offended and overwhelmed by it, by all means, use that gift
which the God I was raised with gave you called Free Will and choose to leave
until after New Years. There are flights
out of the country even on December 25th. No one will stop you. Choose not to put up
lights, no one will care. Don’t buy
presents, I didn’t get you one either. Turn
off the radio, Mr. Grinch. Try hard
enough and you can find a station that doesn’t drone on about the most wonderful
time of the year. You don’t have to
watch movies about singing priests, Santa in court or a pregnant Hebrew
teenager on a donkey, that’s what satellite is for anyway. BUT STOP PISSING ON MY PARADE.

I will continue to wish people “Merry
Christmas” with no expectation of reciprocation. I will sing Christmas carols from the top of
my lungs. I will fight with strings of
lights until I am dead. I will put up my
Christmas presents under my Christmas tree.
I will continue to celebrate the birth of Christ until he puts a stop to
it himself.

So, for the potentially offended I say, “put
up or shut up.” If you don’t like it,
then by all means, feel free to opt out of the statutory holidays this seasonal
celebration provides. We’ll even let you
give back the money you get paid by not having to work! And if you feel claustrophobic standing in
line this time of year, consider this - according to their calendars, the
following religions have listed their “holy days” for 2012:

Muslins:
7
Jewish:
23 – 15 of which no work is permitted at all
Buddists – 139, if you take in all factions
of their religion which use one or more days for different celebrations for
deities and prayers
Hindu – 19
Pagans – 5

So, party-poopers, leave our three little
days alone and allow me to celebrate my Christmas, my way.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, one and
all.