I was asked by a respected colleague to share what the Christmas holidays feel like to someone who does not practice Christianity. The answer is: I survived them just fine.
We're not talking about commemorating the birth of Jesus or the advent of a spiritual or political Messiah.
We're talking about the secular holiday season that starts before Halloween and ends New Year's Day.
Again, the answer is that I survived them.
The only thing missing is the "magic" that our secular culture attributes to the Christmas season. Just watch a made-for-TV movie or a Hallmark special or read a magazine article, and you'll see what seems to be missing.
The broken relationship with a relative is supposed to be magically healed. Someone in the depths of poverty or despair is supposed to suddenly find a hope, a job and a way back into society. We are supposed to find hope in an otherwise hopeless situation.
It didn't happen.
Where's the holiday magic?
The relative I called spoke for about a minute and said, "Gotta run! BuhBYE!" as has happened for the last 20 or so years.
On the material front, no Lexus appeared with a bow tied around it in front of my house.
One of my part-time jobs is still ending next month, just as it was before Christmas.
In fact, another customer and I just realized simultaneously that a second job is totally redundant: An outsider is not needed to perform the work that I've been doing (an hour or so each month) for the last three years.
So if this magic works, why didn't everything get better?
Some religious folks would tell me if I only believed in the namesake of Christmas, I would find all of this hope and healing.
Some folks in my own religion (which is to theology what a Macintosh is to Windows) might say I might receive more blessings and fewer cursings if only I kept the commandments more faithfully.
It is possible that I would see that material things - and relationships with other people - are insignificant compared with peace with a supreme being. I concede that may be true, regardless of which path one takes to deity.
Looking up
Lest you think this is all negative, I did emerge from the Christmas holidays in better shape.
I took great pleasure in wishing people "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Holidays."
My wife and I had the opportunity to provide help to people who really needed it. (We should all do this 365 days a year, not just during one season).
And the e-mailed picture of my three children, their spouses and my first grandchild gave me a lot more pleasure than a long phone call would have provided. You can't put a phone call on my computer screen.
On Christmas Eve and the day itself, I got an excellent insight into respecting other people's traditions. We noticed the Roosevelt QFC had a sign on the doors of its stores with a picture of Santa Claus, saying, "Nobody should have to work on Christmas. Except one." I was glad for its employees that they got the day off to be with their families
On Christmas Day, while driving home from an event not associated with Christmas, I was looking for an open Chinese or Thai restaurant, and there weren't any, not in my neighborhood anyway.
Then it hit me.
My own tradition requires me not to work several of its holidays. It is not a matter of enjoying the day off, either; it is required by those commandments.
If I expect employers and customers to respect my own traditions, it only makes sense to respect someone else's traditions and not expect them to serve me on a holiday much more widely recognized than my own.
Looking ahead
The light that came on may have only been the imaginary light bulb in my head instead of from a star, but things are suddenly a bit brighter now than before.
There is something I can do about each of my situations:
❚ I can find other work.
❚ I can rejoice in not having to pay the vehicle taxes on that Lexus.
❚ And I can pick a different relative to call next year!
Peace.
John Livingston lives in the Roosevelt neighborhood. He can be reached at needitor@nwlink.com.
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