As a subscriber of the Merriam-Webster Dictionary on line, I get a daily email with the word of the day, plus a lot of extras that wordies like me enjoy perusing, like etymologies and trending terms. (I think it’s a holdover from my childhood, when I read my parents’ Reader’s Digest for the Word Power feature.)
One of this week’s words was “solstice,” because the winter solstice happened on Dec. 21 and it’s related to the Christmas season. It got me thinking, during those long, insomniac hours of the night, about those long-ago earthlings who developed their worship around natural occurrences such as solstices and equinoxes.
The term “pagan” may have some negative connotations in our usage. It can be used as a religious jibe toward those who don’t subscribe to the “Big Three” religions of Christianity, Judaism or Muslim, who share a common ancestry with Abraham of the Old Testament.
It can be used to describe those who may appear to lean toward the mystical, or the astronomical (not the size, but the pseudo-science), to explain why humans are here and why nature behaves the way it does.
It can also imply that those who didn’t conform to the “Big Three” weren’t sophisticated enough spiritually to deserve to continue observing and celebrating their religion that was based on seasons and phases of the sun and moon, so the “correct” religious rites were superimposed upon their holiday.
Much as we don’t like to admit that Christmas celebrations don’t fall at the historically accurate time of year to reflect the actual birth of Jesus, we are socially and economically ingrained in this winter celebration of one of history’s most notable of men.
Coincidentally or not, there are other religious celebrations that occur at this time as well, like the Jewish high holy celebration of Hanukkah, or the more modern holidays of Kwanzaa, which lifts up African American spirituality and family values, or Festivus, for those who wish to express disdain through parody for organized religious practices.
I wrote last winter about my mother’s cynical belief that Christmas is a holiday created and run by a big eastern (U.S.) syndicate. I’ve also heard it said that Christmas, though strategically placed by early Christians to distract those pesky pagans from their ritual solstice observations, the holiday became a way to distract modern westerners from the doldrums of long, dark, northern winters by providing over-the-top displays of holiday lights, crass commercialism, and obscene consumerism.
But such cynicism ignores the more introspective aspects of all the incarnations of religious expression that occur this time of year.
What else but the human need for love, closeness, family, compassion, empathy and happiness could inspire all variety of expressions of awe and wonder about our human existence that emerge every December throughout the world?
Consider the traditional church services that many Christians grew up with, complete with beautiful hymns, carols and cantatas, high classical music like Handel’s Messiah.
Consider the quiet dignity of Hanukkah, the Festival of Light, signified by a simple menorah. Or by the simple re-enactment of live Nativities acted out in Christian churches.
Consider the myriad of Christmas customs we take for granted in our homes that were adopted from foreign lands and cultures – Christmas trees from Germany, tree ornaments adapted from regional resources (like exotic tropical flowers, indigenous birds or desert scrub), the foods that we create only once a year to mark the holiday, like Danish kuchen or Jewish latkes or Italian panettone. (Or the dreaded American fruit cake!)
How else can mere human beings express, all together, the common joy of their creation and the common sharing of universal truths of love, service, and humility? How else can we explain what have become over-the-top attempts to commemorate what, in my opinion, should be the simplest of expressions of gratitude to whatever omnipotent something made our higher plane of existence possible?
My own spiritual bent continues to be in flux, making me, currently, to some people, something of a throwback to stereotypic hippies of the ’60s and ’70s. Be that as it may, I basically subscribe to all religious expression that serve to lift the human condition to its loftiest heights. To create great music and artistic majesty. To include all humankind in the wonder of our seeming impossible existence in the universe! To sit quietly in awe of the forces that conspired to make tiny people possible of great things on this “big blue marble” in the cosmos.
Part of me bemoans the commercialism and distraction from the “reason for the season” that has befallen modern America. But part of me also secretly revels in the ugly Christmas sweaters and cookie exchanges and gauche lawn displays so prominent in urban, suburban, and rural settings all around us.
I have hung my conciliatory Christmas wreath – made of local pine cones from a roadside tree, after-holiday poinsettias and ribbons from Michael’s, and a gold and glittered grape vine wreath from Goodwill – on my front door. A small gesture to complement the brilliant lights across my suburban street. Each of us celebrating, in our own personal way, a light in our world inspiring us to be better than we are.
Happy Holidays to you all, whatever that holiday may be!
Reading this at halftime was a whole let better that the first 30 minutes of the game. Thank you.