What does Christmas mean to me?

There’s the religious aspect, of course. Ironically, though we are regular church-goers during the rest of the year, we never go on Christmas, since we’re usually out of town, and … well, Christmas services are usually big and difficult to park at, and it would be a strange church anyway, and, well, we’re a little lazy …

But, yeah, there’s that religion thang. Regardless of how one feels about the historicity of Christ’s life, or the accuracy of the Biblical accounts of His birth (and all the accreted mythology that’s been added to it), the symbolism of renewed hope in that little manger on a dark and frosty night is damned powerful. And the admixture between that humble beginning and the celebration in the heavens, from Luke 2 (with the inevitable recitatives and choruses that Handel crafted for it in his Messiah):

8 And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. 10 And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. 11 For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. 12 And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, 14 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

Beyond the religious — and part of it, perhaps, as well as parallel to it — there’s the giving — the joy of being given things that I don’t have (and, in some cases, actually needs and/or want), and the equal, even greater joy of giving something to someone and seeing on their face and hear in their voices that same first joy.

And there’s family, and tradition, and comfort, and coming-together. There’s the smile at a stranger and the nod at someone doing me a service, and just the inexpressibly neat idea that, no matter how marred by commercialism and hubbub, the gifting season of Christmas time is a moment where I and everyone else can stop, step back, put aside the usual commercialism and hubbub, and think of others. I stop and have a drink of mulled wine with a friend, exchange a gift with a family member, look at my daughter’s eyes light up at something Santa brought, and know that it is, indeed, a very special time —

— and a time that is both part of the Christian faith and that transcends dogma and doctrine and ideological competition, something that can reach out and embrace believers and disbelievers, Christians and non-Christians alike, not in some evil, assimilating, proselytizing way, but in happiness and acceptance and mirth and camaraderie, fellow travelers in life recognizing that it’s easier (and far more pleasant) to help each other along than to fight, even if it’s just for one month, week, day.

… and on earth peace, good will toward men.

A most merry Christmas Eve and Day to my readers here, those I know and those I don’t, however you celebrate the holiday, mark its passage, or let it go by. Peace, good will to you all.

UPDATE: Les posts an interesting commentary by Ayn Rand, of all folks, on Christmas from a very similar perspective. Worth reading, even if it strays a bit too far over (as is typical with Rand) into the utilitarian.