Someone told me “Merry Christmas” as I left Wal-Mart the other day. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have thought about it twice. ’Tis the season, after all.
But this time, my immediate thought was, “What does he mean by that?”
With all the passionate discussion of “political correctness,” “the war on Christmas” and “Happy Holidays,” you can’t help but wonder who’s saying what and for what reasons.
I’m sure most of the people telling us “Merry Christmas” mean it from the depths of their hearts as a warm wish for Dec. 25.
I’m equally sure that a few of those who would have tossed off a “Happy Holidays” without a second thought in years past now emphatically say “Merry Christmas” not so much to wish others well on that day but to emphasize that they’re religious Christians and, in some cases, that you should be too.
I truly hate that I even have to wonder for a moment who’s really wishing others a happy holiday and who is actually working a socio-religious agenda.
Make no mistake — I’m a big fan of “live and let live” as a policy in life. I make no pretense to knowing better than others about how they should live their lives — particularly about something as personal and faith-requiring as religion.
But that also means I make no judgments about Christianity being “better” or “more right” than Judaism, Islam being better than Buddhism, or modern Paganism being better than the beliefs favored by those who celebrate Sam Harvey Day each year.
I personally figure God is way too big to fit into the tiny boxes most of us put him, her or it in. As long as people find what is meaningful for them and are striving to make themselves and their world better, I’m happy for them.
And that’s the reason I’ve taken a staunch stance in favor of “Happy Holidays.” Not against “Merry Christmas,” mind you. No, not that at all. But rather in favor of the inclusiveness and generosity of spirit that is implied in wishing that people of all faiths celebrating holy days at this time of year have them be happy, merry, joyous or otherwise nice.
I honestly, truly, worry that a Jewish person wished “Merry Christmas” feels the other person couldn’t care less how their Hanukkah goes. Or maybe doesn’t care that they’re Jewish, or can’t be bothered to do anything other than assume they are Christian.
I feel bad for the Druids who have to hedge around the fact that they opened their gifts four days earlier than most of us. I wonder how Muslims deal with job requirements during Ramadan in a society that inherently considers Sunday a day to be off for religious services and doesn’t easily allow for prayer five times a day.
But the thing this particular contested holiday season has had me asking more than anything else is this: How — in a time where most faiths focus on peace, light, joy and goodwill toward our fellow humans — how is it we have gotten so divided and so unwilling to allow for people who are different from us to have just as much of a good day on their own holy days?
Why is it that we fight over what to call an evergreen tree adorned with lights and decorated with fruit and baubles — to the delight of children of all ages — when the history of that tree comes from several faiths and many traditions?
Why is it more important to trumpet our beliefs than to act, pure of heart, in their deepest principles of peace and goodness?
There’s a certain smallness in wanting to confine your good wishes for others to one day of the year and one faith. It’s a smallness not befitting the holiday season — no matter which holiday you celebrate.
The truth is the retailers are telling us all “Happy Holidays” because they recognize that they’ve got a diverse population of consumers to win over and that even the religious minority needs cheap shoelaces, shampoo and the occasional copy of “The West Wing” on DVD.
If there are higher motivations involved than that, I’d be shocked.
Those who should have higher motivations are the rest of us. There is no threat to Christianity in the U.S. by one person wishing another a happy Hanukkah. A lone Druid welcoming the sunrise does not unmake a true believer in Jesus Christ. A menorah resting alongside a Christmas tree in a public display doesn’t harm anyone, nor does calling that tree by another name. It does, indeed, smell as sweet.
I had a friend ask one of our mutual non-Christian friends recently why they didn’t just calmly disabuse the salesperson at Wal-Mart of the notion that they were Christian when wished a “Merry Christmas.”
Her response was that it just wasn’t done, wasn’t worth it. Between the fact that many like to keep their religious beliefs private and the potential for the remaining bigotry and proselytizing in our nation to kick in (with perhaps even dangerous consequences), many of our religious minorities simply keep quiet and let others assume they’re of the Christian majority.
The need to do that not only turns its back on the richness of our national melting pot but upon the nation’s heritage as a place where the minority need not fear the tyranny of the majority — particularly as far as religion.
Our ability to grow and thrive as a nation can be measured not so much in our gross national product or whether we can mobilize 100,000 troops in a matter of days, but rather in our ability to learn the lessons our forefathers founded this nation upon and to make our way as human beings to the best of our individual abilities, with hope that the innate goodness of mankind will help us along when times are rough.
The holidays are a time for all of us to celebrate that goodness, the closeness of family and friends, the generosity of the human spirit in wishing others the best the season — and life — can bring. That’s one thing we all have in common, no matter our faith.
In that spirit, I hope this new year brings us all the most happiness, joy, love, prosperity and peace that can be packed into 365 days. I hope you had a merry Christmas, a peaceful Ramadan and a blessed Yule and that you have a happy Hanukkah and amazingly happy New Year.