‘Twas the week before Christmas
Letter from Away — December 19, 2023
Christmas is not my holiday. In spite of all the well-wishers who invite me to enjoy the season, I often find myself an outsider at a party I am not sure I want to attend and all the protestations of welcome do little but remind me that, in a country that claims fairness to all, some are more entitled than others.
Don’t get me wrong; the birth of a prophet who espoused peace, charity, and humility is well worth celebrating. Faced with a society that put commerce ahead of kindness, Jesus asked his contemporaries to consider their actions with a view toward generosity and unselfishness.
In the two millennia that have followed his short and significant life, a monolithic religious dogma has replaced his practice of everyday goodness with a messy pile of religious institutions that vie for our attention with promises of heaven. In exchange for prayer we are offered exoneration for our sins, but the path to personal betterment in this life remains obscure.
A few weeks ago, in a discussion about the flaws of capitalism, one of the participants misquoted Winston Churchill, defending the destructive monetary policy by saying the former British Prime Minister claimed capitalism was “… the worst form of government except for any other we had tried.” I knew that was inaccurate but, in an uncharacteristic move, decided to let it pass.
According to the International Churchill Society, what the statesman actually said on Armistice Day 1947 was, “Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed it has been said that democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time …”
If we have this much trouble distinguishing a political form of representation from an economic form of resource distribution and remembering what was said less than a century ago, by a world leader in a technological society that records just about everything, how accurate can we possibly be about the words of a desert lecturer, a nomadic teacher whose thoughts have, ever since, been interpreted by power-hungry self-appointed missionaries?
As I said, it is not my holiday, and Christianity, in all its many forms, is not my religious practice. Like Jesus, I was raised in a monotheistic tradition that speaks of a single deity who holds all creation in its scope. What is done to one is done to all.
Those who wrap themselves in a flag of Christianity while denying aid to the needy, shelter to the homeless, or food to the hungry may be doing exactly what Jesus asked for. Who am I to judge? Inflatable decorations that each burn about a dollar a day in electricity may help you feel merry and bright but maxing out your credit at amazon.com is unlikely to bring about the kingdom of heaven.
I was taught, as a child, that religious practice is a private affair. The most flamboyant demonstration of cultural practice we engaged in was the placement of a Chanukah menorah in the window for eight nights. As I grew, it became evident to me that even that tradition was fairly new, a way of reminding our neighbors that there were those of us among them who honored the divine in ways other than months of incessant jingling and flashing electric lights.
In recent decades communities have, in an effort for some sort of fairness, erected municipal menorahs but these seem to miss the point. Public demonstration of more different religions will always leave someone out.
If someone says “Merry Christmas” to me, I usually answer in kind; their greeting is offered in kindness and informs me of their practice. There is no need to seek a reciprocal reference to other religious celebrations. I harbor no ill will to those who gather around trees; some of my best friends are pagans who do exactly that, several times a year.
I am happy to share in celebrations of all sorts without expecting anyone to understand my own relationship with the source of creation. It became clear to me, long ago, that my rather ecological idea of righteousness resonates with a minority of my contemporaries and that the capitalism that seems to serve as a national religion may have polluted our spiritual practices beyond redemption.
In what Churchill referred to as “… this world of sin and woe …” I will take your blessings in the spirit in which they are offered. Meanwhile, I observe the growing darkness and await the coming light.
Shlomit Auciello is an award-winning writer, photographer, and human ecologist who has lived in Midcoast Maine since 1988. Letter From Away has appeared online and in print, on and off since 1992.
