Virtually every year, almost since I was born, my Christmas holiday season involved just about as much travel as it did actual family/fun time. We’re a little spread out, not bad though, and my birth parents divorced when I was very young still, so… this business became the norm for me early on.
Part of this yearly routine involves going to my father’s parents’ home on Christmas Eve where the rest of my extended family from that side would also convene. We had food and lots of it. Always a traditional Christmas show on TV. And, of course, lots of chatting with relatives I don’t see nearly often enough.
This year my beloved and I arrived a little earlier in the evening that usual. My laptop was on the fritz and a cousin had agreed to look at it for me. However, those plans began to fall through and instead we found ourselves at my parents’ home waiting for the time that everyone was due at my grandmother’s. After piddling around for some time we decided to head to my grandmother’s and, as it happened, we beat her to her home.
As we arrived and exited our car, my parents motioned me and Wayne to follow them as they walked up to the front door of my grandmother’s neighbor. This happens to be the home of a good friend of my father and his new wife.
I was instantly uncomfortable. Forgive me for not being okay marching up to, and into, someone’s home unannounced on a holiday. Maybe it was just because this wasn’t the home of my best. Maybe I’m just uptight. It’s hard to say. I was everything but thrilled to have followed my parents right then. My spouse and I found ourselves awkwardly standing in front of these folks’ television, while brief introductions were made and then a whole lot of nothing happened. Of course, the friends of my parents didn’t act bothered in the least.
All of this aside, something happened that I’ve never seen before in my life. Ever. There wasn’t much room in the house to begin with, but even with a huge lack of free space the missing Christmas tree was conspicuous. These people had no Christmas tree! Aside from the homeless and the Bah-Humbugs, I’m not sure when the last time I encountered people who celebrated Christmas, but had no tree. Care to know why?
The wife is a Christian.
No joke. My parents just about immediately began joking, “Where’s your tree?!?!” The husband, my father’s friend, is the quintessential “small town Indiana man” that people like John Cougar Mellencamp sing about. Not exactly a redneck, not exactly a country man, not exactly educated –but a little of all of them. This man’s new wife went on to explain, very briefly, that she refused to have a Christmas tree because not long ago she’d learned that it was of pagan origination.
I’ll tell you right now, she gave her explanation with no regard to respecting the possibly diverse religious backgrounds of the numerous other people present –typical of the Christian variety. All religious arrogance aside, I should commend her for celebrating a “scriptural” Christmas.
Oh wait –there’s no such thing. Christmas isn’t in the Bible. Jesus’ birth? Yes. The holiday? Nope. Any command to actually celebrate the birth? Nada. Literally everything we know about the holiday, in fact, the holiday no matter what form it takes isn’t scriptural. And as this woman pointed out, the Christmas tree is no exception.
Every year I gag when I hear pitiful whines of evangelicals as they lament the ever-growing “war on Christmas.” As the Christmas season (perhaps) becomes less Christ-centric, it’s just becoming more and more of what it was originally: Not Christian. Truthfully, if the Christians want to re-establish Christmas, they should shift its celebration to April or August when Jesus was most likely, actually, born.
But whatever. Arrogance and all, it was actually – almost – refreshing that this woman was somehow more aware of what actually pertained to her religion… and what didn’t. She’s certainly rare among her breed.
Sthapati Samanvayam 
A very fair and pluralist post.
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