By Edwin Cooney
It’s true. There’s no use denying it. I’m a sucker for
Christmas. I always have been and
expect that I always will be.
It isn’t that I have any better handle on how to attain
“peace on earth and goodwill toward men” than those who would assume a position
of world leadership -- Barack Obama included. It’s just that there’s something to be said, at least in my
view, for innocence.
It started when I was very young, of course. I remember lying in bed one night in
early December of 1953. I was an
eight-year-old student at the New York State School for the Blind in Batavia,
New York. From the room on the
floor below mine came the sound of pipe organ music playing Christmas
carols. There was “Joy to the
World,” “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” and “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” --
which, along with “From the Eastern Mountains" (a State School standard
carol) and “O Holy Night”, are my five favorite Christmas carols.
“It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” has a special significance.
Somehow, I saw myself on that night long ago with the shepherds in the field at
midnight seeing the star overhead, beckoning all of us towards Bethlehem. My eight-year-old mind imagined the
shepherds and me beginning our journey to see the baby Jesus for ourselves,
with generous supplies of tasty Christmas cookies, fruit juice, and hot
chocolate. Exactly what happened
when we got there or what life was like upon our return was, and still is,
beyond my comprehension -- but anticipation of a long exciting hike through
forests under history’s brightest star brought forth in me fifty-nine years ago
a sense of euphoria, the power of which lingers with me today. That glorious energizing song linked,
for me, an occasion of two thousand years ago with my childlike anticipation of
a happy adventure.
Christmas as a concept of a fresh start in life is, to say
the very least, invigorating. The
very idea that a Being exists who translates to us as “almighty God,” who is
strong enough and will at some point in all of our futures begin maintaining us
forever in spiritual safety and security, is invariably reassuring in the wake
of earthly pain and uncertainty.
Then, of course, there is that other side of Christmas, the
Christmas of sharing and receiving all of the material things one can
perceive. In that world, cookies,
juice, hot chocolate, eggnog, fruit cake and brandy are the realities that can
launch us into flights of fantasy we thought we left behind as children. Inevitably, Jesus and Santa Claus meet
and merge into one incredible entity or Being. Ultimately, both are so extraordinary that they are
compellingly real.
Like everyone else, I’ve experienced Christmases that were
real bummers. Nineteen eighty-seven,
the year my marriage broke up, was a definite downer and I can remember a
couple of Christmases as a teen when I was somewhere at “Yuletide” where I
didn’t want to be. It’s also true
that Christmases are a bit of a struggle without a love partner with which to
share them, but overall I still see Christmas as a time of nurturing.
Many, of course, complain about the “over commercialization”
of Christmas, but it seems to me that such criticism is poorly placed. Why blame Christmas rather than advertisers
for “over commercializing” Christmas?
I never let George Steinbrenner ruin the Yankees for me and I never let
a national administration of an opposing party (regardless of policy) ruin
America for me. My love for my
country, the Yankees, my two sons and for my new lovely fiancé isn’t predicated
on perfection. So, why should I
let a bunch of greedy advertisers destroy Christmas? Were I to do that, I’d be giving them far more power than
they’ve ever deserved.
Let’s see now:
Every Valentine’s Day we celebrate romance, every Easter we
celebrate rebirth, every Memorial Day we celebrate victory over slavery, every
Fourth of July we celebrate independence and liberty, every Labor Day we
celebrate working and workers, every Halloween we celebrate adventure through
ghoulish fantasy (note: have you
ever heard anyone complain about the over commercialization of Halloween?),
every November 11th we celebrate our veterans and our freedom, every
Thanksgiving we celebrate gratitude itself and every Christmas we celebrate
Christ’s greatest gifts—loving, sharing and innocent joy. We celebrate these
things because through our own commitment and dedication to the joy and
satisfaction of these concepts and achievements, we live in a nurturing
society.
Part of celebrating Christmas, or a similar holiday of
another faith, is, after all, a celebration of our capacity to believe the
incomprehensible. In order to
believe the incomprehensible we must be free of regimentation and innocent
enough to leap doctrinaire and even spiritual boundaries.
Dear Santa, if Christmas is for the innocent, an annual
ticket to a place of innocence is precisely what I want sticking out of the top
of my Christmas stocking!
RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,
EDWIN COONEY
(First posted December 2008)
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