DECEMBER 20, 2020 – Call me old-fashioned, but I love Christmas. The day isn’t not my favorite, though. Thanksgiving is—because it’s the unofficial start of Advent, the month-long Christmas season, which I like for reasons that would fill . . . a large sack in the back of an airborne sleigh.
As I’ve revealed above, I’m fine calling Christmas . . . “Christmas,” though I’m not religious. Irrespective of one’s religious orientation, what would Christmas be if we simply called it “Holiday” (or “Retail Bonanza Day”)? It would be the same as calling Columbia University, “Universe City” because now, by general revisionist consensus, ol’ Christopher (speaking of “Christ”) was pretty much a schmuck from any kind of humanitarian point of view. But when I hear “Columbia,” I never think “Columbus.” I think, “fine university in New York City.” Similarly, when I hear “Christmas,” my first thought isn’t Away in a Manger. What I associate with “Christmas” is all the positive stuff that I’ve associated with it ever since I was a young kid.
Such as? Let’s start with Santa, because that’s what most kids started with. That was certainly my materialistic case. Yet Santa was far more than the provider of presents. In my little mind, he really did personify all the wonderful traits that are ascribed to him. He not only “walked the talk,” he lived it. He was kind to his wife, kind to the elves, kind to the animals, and of course, kind to millions of children around the world. He was my kind of person.
Next were the decorations, outdoors and inside—the handsome fir boughs, bells and lights that stretched across Main Street of my hometown; neighbors who strung lights across their houses and lit up their rooftops with an illuminated Santa and his famous reindeer; the beautifully decorated trees inside everyone’s house.
Then there was the music—sacred and secular—that filled the house; the Christmas books; the exchange of cards; the get-togethers; and the wishing everyone you saw a “Merry Christmas!” I loved all of it and still do.
I don’t partake in the religious celebration of Christmas (though I love to pound out Adestes Fideles on our piano). Instead of attending church, I’ve adopted a tradition that parallels closely the Christian message associated with the “mass of Christ.” Each Christmas season, I re-read Charles Dickens’ immortal story, A Christmas Carol. I never tire of it, just as I never tire of Vivaldi’s Gloria. Each year, I marvel ever more at Dickens’ language, imagery, message.
Especially in this year of need and division, the words of Jacob Marley’s Ghost to Scrooge—like the words of Jesus to humanity ring loud:
Business!” cried the Ghost [in response to Scrooge’s observation that his partner had been “a good man of business”]. . .“Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business.
May all of us, irrespective of “faith,” make humankind—“our business.”
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© 2020 by Eric Nilsson
