It’s the time of year again when I and others like me befuddle, bemuse and bewilder some people. It’s not that we have a set agenda to confuse people. We don’t have Befuddlers Anonymous groups or anything like that. The confusion is simply a byproduct of the fact that we celebrate Christmas, and by we I mean godless heathens. I guess that we aren’t supposed to celebrate Christmas, since we don’t really take much stock in the guy who the holiday is named after. I suppose there are some people who would rather we sit at home alone on December 25th, and miss out on all the fun stuff like watching our Uncle Frank get drunk and then throw up eggnog all over the carpet Aunt June just had cleaned. Maybe we’d be allowed to assemble quietly in groups and read “On the Origin of the Species” aloud to each other.
I guess the Christians bemoaning our celebratory nature would have a point except that Christmas is made up of a lot of pagan beliefs, traditions and stories that are kind of all smooshed together. Back in the day, the Christians decided to steal the holiday from the pagans, because the dirty infidels already got to do fun stuff like dancing naked under a full moon, so there wasn’t any reason for them to get keep the holiday traditions like kissing under the mistletoe, or maxing out their credit cards. So why all the bah humbugging about us celebrating?
We aren’t hurting your holiday. The fact that I put up a Christmas tree isn’t going to detract from whatever meaning you place on yours. My singing along loudly to Silent Night may be somewhat ironic, but it’s not going to make the song any less sacred for you. When I knock back some eggnog with rum in it, won’t make your virgin eggnog any less tasty. And just because I think that nativity scenes shouldn’t be on government property, it doesn’t mean you can’t have one in your yard. Hell, make it a live nativity scene complete with camels and donkeys if that’s what blows your skirt up, although you might want to check the city code to see about the camel and donkey part. If they aren’t allowed, use Great Dane’s as stand-ins.
You remember the guy the holiday is supposed to be about? From the bible’s description of him, he wouldn’t care if non-believers celebrate his birthday. In fact, he’d probably say the more the merrier, because more people equal more presents. And then he’d turn the water into wine, and we’d go a-wassailing among the leaves so green and a good time would be had by all.
So, just let me and my ilk celebrate Christmas. In the fairness of tit for tat, or to put it more biblically, an eye for an eye, I promise we’ll let you celebrate Darwin Day in return. From the bottom of my heart that may be godless, but isn’t two sizes too small, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”
Rachel Birdsell is a freelance writer and artist. You can reach her at rabirdsell@gmail.com.
I Can’t Believe It’s Christmas
Rachel Birdsell
It’s the time of year again when I and others like me befuddle, bemuse and bewilder some people. It’s not that we have a set agenda to confuse people. We don’t have Befuddlers Anonymous groups or anything like that. The confusion is simply a byproduct of the fact that we celebrate Christmas, and by we I mean godless heathens. I guess that we aren’t supposed to celebrate Christmas, since we don’t really take much stock in the guy who the holiday is named after. I suppose there are some people who would rather we sit at home alone on December 25th, and miss out on all the fun stuff like watching our Uncle Frank get drunk and then throw up eggnog all over the carpet Aunt June just had cleaned. Maybe we’d be allowed to assemble quietly in groups and read “On the Origin of the Species” aloud to each other.
I guess the Christians bemoaning our celebratory nature would have a point except that Christmas is made up of a lot of pagan beliefs, traditions and stories that are kind of all smooshed together. Back in the day, the Christians decided to steal the holiday from the pagans, because the dirty infidels already got to do fun stuff like dancing naked under a full moon, so there wasn’t any reason for them to get keep the holiday traditions like kissing under the mistletoe, or maxing out their credit cards. So why all the bah humbugging about us celebrating?
We aren’t hurting your holiday. The fact that I put up a Christmas tree isn’t going to detract from whatever meaning you place on yours. My singing along loudly to Silent Night may be somewhat ironic, but it’s not going to make the song any less sacred for you. When I knock back some eggnog with rum in it, won’t make your virgin eggnog any less tasty. And just because I think that nativity scenes shouldn’t be on government property, it doesn’t mean you can’t have one in your yard. Hell, make it a live nativity scene complete with camels and donkeys if that’s what blows your skirt up, although you might want to check the city code to see about the camel and donkey part. If they aren’t allowed, use Great Dane’s as stand-ins.
You remember the guy the holiday is supposed to be about? From the bible’s description of him, he wouldn’t care if non-believers celebrate his birthday. In fact, he’d probably say the more the merrier, because more people equal more presents. And then he’d turn the water into wine, and we’d go a-wassailing among the leaves so green and a good time would be had by all.
So, just let me and my ilk celebrate Christmas. In the fairness of tit for tat, or to put it more biblically, an eye for an eye, I promise we’ll let you celebrate Darwin Day in return. From the bottom of my heart that may be godless, but isn’t two sizes too small, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”
Rachel Birdsell is a freelance writer and artist. You can reach her at rabirdsell@gmail.com.