Aside from the outcry about the Starbucks cup that's been scrubbed clean of any yuletide symbols, there appear to be few complaints about the so-called War on Christmas this year. Maybe that's because of all of the real news — most of it bad — that has pushed this faux issue off the airwaves and newspaper pages.
I remember participating in one of the early skirmishes of this "war" back in the 1980s when I was on the county library board of trustees. We had a meeting in November in Westminster, and the then-executive director announced she thought it best that we not put the creche scene in our front display window that season. There had been a number of successful lawsuits the previous year, filed against cities and towns that had erected life-size depictions of the first Christmas in town squares and in front of city halls. She wished to be proactive in avoiding trouble, so announced her intentions. As board president, I remember fighting the idea at first, but then caving in when most of the other members didn't line up behind me.
The thinking back, the '80s was the same as it is now: Our society has become more multicultural than ever, and it is best that we not offend any non-Christian members. As a product of the 1950s, and with memories of the many Knights of Columbus-sponsored billboards urging us to "Keep Christ in Christmas," I remember arguing that, "Christmas was Christ's Mass" after all, and asking how this joyful holiday can even be celebrated without acknowledging its prime cause. When I lost traction on that front, I switched gears to suggest that we also place a menorah in the library window, but that didn't fly either. The executive director said other religions would still feel excluded, so it was best to remain neutral and not ruffle any feathers.
My wife taught primary grades for 10 years in central New Jersey and over that time saw her student mix change from the homogeneity common to old Doris Day films to the multihued cast of the recent hit movie, "The Martian." That's a bit of an exaggeration, for she did have some Indian kids when she started, but by the time she retired, most of her students also hailed from Pakistan, Japan and China. Some were Christians, but others were from Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Shinto and Buddhist traditions, and school celebrations of Christmas were out of the question. Some of the families of these newcomers did adopt holiday traditions, but only in the secular, gift-giving sense. Interestingly, the most flak my wife received during this time was from a Jewish girl who objected to a small, artificial evergreen tree my wife placed on her desk.
Some 30 years after my library board experience, Christmas is still very much with us. Sure, there are fewer religious carols being sung at school "holiday" shows and, aside from churches and homes, the creche is rarely displayed.
But Christmas doesn't live in, or require sustenance from, public displays of creches and Christmas trees and reindeer on coffee cups. For believers and non-believers alike, the spirit of Christmas dwells in the little things we do at this time of year — the unexpected acts of kindness we can extend to strangers, especially courtesies shown in parking lots or in stores as we maneuver around other shoppers; the donations we make of clothes, toys, food or money to those in need; and the cards or notes we send to folks who wish to feel loved and wanted during a season that can be lonely and burdensome.
Then there are the more personal acts we are free to perform — setting up a home creche to teach children about the real meaning of Christmas (we always had our youngest put the infant in the manger on Christmas morn); listening to a recording of the ethereal beauty of "O Holy Night;" attending church on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day; and even turning out the room lights after the tree is decorated to take simple pleasure in the twinkling, colored bulbs and treasured, sparkling ornaments before us.
All of this we owe to the memory of a helpless God-child born a very long time ago, and no one can ever take this truth away from us.
Frank Batavick writes from Westminster. His column appears Fridays. Email him at fjbatavick@gmail.com.
