Happy Holidays!

I dug out our collection of Christmas DVDs today. I wasn’t doing it intentionally. I was just reorganizing and reclaiming our entertainment center after 19 months’ absence (during which time our son and granddaughter made good use of it). The DVDs contained Movies, TV specials, concerts, etc.

The one on top was a copy of a 1955 Jo Stafford Album. The title song, “Happy Holiday,” was Irving Berlin’s 1942 classic that everybody loves. The second DVD was the 1942 Bing Crosby/Fred Astaire movie, “Holiday Inn,” in which that Irving Berlin classic was introduced. It’s a perennial favorite, along with “It’s a Good Life!”, “Miracle of 34^th Street,” “White Christmas” and—you can finish the list.

In the same box was our collection of Christmas cards dating back who knows how long. We keep them for decorations and gift wrapping. “Season’s Greetings,” is among the most common phrases on the covers of the several dozen cards in that stack.

Call me a “Christmas Freak.” I love just about everything about it, from the first decoration I see in some store to the last ornament that's stored in the attic. In the last couple of years I’ve even been able to endure the crowds at the malls without uttering a single “Bah!” or “Humbug!”

I think I love it because in my personal history it’s always been the “Most Wonderful Time of the Year”—with cousins and “Granny” either spending the holidays with us or us with them. I associate Christmas with family, presents, wonderful food, beautiful music, beautiful decorations and the beautiful story that holds it all together.

The story is paramount. No matter what else happens or doesn't happen during Advent and the Twelve Days of Christmas that follow, I’m never distracted from the awareness of that beautiful story. It’s always with me, thanks to the foundation laid in my family—a foundation that included regular participation in the Body of Christ. No matter what symbol is displayed, or when or where, I am reminded that Christmas is about the birth of Jesus, and that through that birth, “God is with us!”

Apparently—and sadly—some are unable to avoid the distractions. Take, for example, those phrases that for over a half-century—for at least six decades—elicited happy smiles, warm feelings and even hugs: “Happy Holidays!” “Seasons Greetings!” More recently they’ve become a distraction to some people.

A few years ago someone suggested that it would be more “inclusive” to use the phrase, “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas”, to acknowledge that not everyone is Christian and to demonstrate respect for their religious freedom—the same respect we expect and demand for our own religious freedom.

Religious freedom, like every other freedom, must be extended to all, or no one is free, for if freedom can be taken from one, it can be taken from all. Further, religious freedom includes the freedom not to be religious at all—and to be free from having others’ religious faiths inflicted upon us.

The intention was to find ways to include people of other faiths—or at least not to exclude them—in the public celebrations of Christian holidays. Nothing has ever been intended or suggested that would limit religious celebrations shared among family and friends and within specific communities of faith.

But the good old American autonomy that built this nation raises its head (unnecessarily in this situation) and asserts, “Nobody’s gonna’ tell me what to do.”

I have not experienced the slightest infringement of any of my rights. I am perfectly free to say, “Merry Christmas” any time I choose, and as far as I know you are free to do the same. Nor do I feel anything has been forced upon me if others choose to say, “Happy Holidays” in deference to the religious freedom of those who don’t share their convictions. Indeed, I don’t feel “Happy Holidays” is a condescension at all. That phrase is a “warm fuzzy” that triggers deep nostalgia and reminds me that Jesus was born.

At what point did “inclusiveness” become bad? At what point did inclusiveness become a liberal conspiracy to take away anyone’s right to say, “Merry Christmas?” At what point did respect for someone who is different from me become a concession to some evil plot to undermine truth? And at what point did the melting pot mentality celebrated in the poem[1] engraved on the Statue of Liberty become an intolerance and disrespect for diversity?

As Christians, we are called to share the joy of our faith; but there are effective ways to share our faith, there are ineffective ways to share our faith and there are counterproductive ways to share our faith. In recent years I’ve seen too much witnessing/sharing that did more harm than good.

And as Americans we have the right to share our faith—but not to inflict it upon anyone who doesn’t want to hear it. And, after all, Christianity is an invitational faith, not a coercive one.

So, I will continue to look for opportunities to make effective witness to my faith, while making every attempt to respect the religious rights and freedoms of those who don’t share it. And if my life is being lived such that others don’t know and respect me as a Christian unless I say, “Merry Christmas,” then I have failed as a Christian and my witness will lack integrity and credibility. And I have absolutely no need to inflict my faith language upon those with other faiths or no faith, and thereby run the risk of alienating them from any possibility of witnessing effectively to them in the future.

That leaves me with more than abundant opportunity within my family, my circle of friends and within my community of faith—and in the yard decorations in front of my home—to say, “Merry Christmas!”

And that’s the way I see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

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[1] Give me your tired, your poor, 

Your huddled masses, yearning to breath free, 
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore, 
Send these, the homeless, tempest tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.

~ Emma Lazarus