(Apologies to Shane McGowan of The Pogues for stealing the opening line of his song Fairytale of New York for my title.)
If you’re reading this, it’s Christmas Eve. Transparency: this blog post was previously written and scheduled for release today. Normally I wouldn’t mention that, but it’s relevant to this topic. Why? I’ve struggled for days to figure out what to write here.
I want to write something pithy, something profound. I want you to walk away from this post with a thought or a tear in your eye or a laugh in your throat. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m the one to write that post on Christmas Eve. I’m a celebrant by habit, not belief. I’ve been fighting the commercialism of the holiday for years and have written about it that way a couple times. I’ve been a longtime Scrooge, and only recently come to realize what this holiday should be about for me… or really not for me.
I googled like mad looking for a topic – atheism and Christmas, people who don’t celebrate Christmas, divorced parents and Christmas. Nothing really pressed my buttons. However, it did reveal that there’s a pile of Christians who don’t celebrate Christmas. This includes not just the Jehovah’s Witnesses,who only celebrate a dinner in remembrance of Christ’s death, but a lot of folks who realized that much of what we celebrate today is a combination of Catholic church invention and appropriation of pagan holidays to make Christianity easier to swallow.
In fact, after I wrote that last paragraph, I started another topic, and decided not to go down that road, either.
Rather than pity or profound or tear-jerking or laughter-inducing, I offer you this:
Merry Christmas to all you celebrants, and to all a good night.