Keeping Christ in Christmas

It’s been said that only a small percentage of people (…let’s say less than 10%) can bring about significant change. That seems pretty sad to me. I’d like to think that 90% of us would not allow ourselves to be led down a path we don’t necessarily support.

Now, I’m just your average American citizen. I am naive enough to have a certain degree of faith in our government in spite of the antics of many who represent us. And I believe in a higher power. In fact, I am proud to say that I am a life-long Roman Catholic. I attend Church regularly and try to do my part to make the world a better place to live. I’m not trying to brag. That’s just who I am.

With the Christmas Season upon us, I will (once again) be frustrated by the voices of a small percentage of people who will work very hard to keep Christ out of Christmas. I think it’s about time for the non-vocal majority to begin speaking out.

Don’t get me wrong. As a Christian I have no objection to people honoring this season in any way they personally see fit. Hanukkah- Kwanzaa- (others?) I am not personally familiar with those celebrations, so I can’t really comment. But, my point is – this is a time to celebrate peace and goodwill toward our fellow members of the human race.

Here’s my problem. I object to the ability of a relatively few non-Christian, non-religious, non-conformists to badger the rest of us into keeping Christ out of Christmas. That IS what the holiday is about, isn’t it? Jesus was born – lived – was a significant person in history. Whether you believe Jesus was God, or not, the holiday celebrates His birth. That’s no different than celebrating the birth of George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, or Martin Luther King.

It is time for believers to take a stand and advocate for our belief. There is nothing offensive about the nativity scene, or (for goodness sake) about Christmas Carolers surrounded by snow-covered evergreens. There is also nothing out of place when one displays a menorah during the eight days of Hanukkah, or kinara candles during the week-long celebration of Kwanzaa.

To those who believe there is no God, I would offer the following – simply acknowledge this as a season of good will. No one is trying to offend you. No one is saying you don’t have a right to your beliefs. This is a time when ALL of us should be making a special effort to acknowledge and be gracious to one another.

To those [leaders] who have chosen to succumb to the will of the minority by NOT displaying a public recognition of the holiday, shame on you. Find the courage to represent the majority, do it tastefully, and do it publicly.

A Perfect Day

Some time ago, I was given one of those “fill-in” books that my children and grandchildren will find and talk about after I’ve left this crazy world. It’s been both fun and challenging to leave my impression about various aspects of my life. What did I do for fun as a kid? Who was my favorite teacher? What was the craziest thing I ever did? . . . A lot of interesting stuff to think about.

One fun question was, “What are one or two things you did that you didn’t tell your parents about?” (There were plenty of vacant lines for me to spill out my secrets.) I thought about that for a while, then wrote in large bold letters across the entire page, “…AND I’M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU EITHER!”

But, here’s the one that stumped me. “What is your perfect day?” Now, I can think of several activities that could be defined as “perfect”, but – a whole day’s worth? So, I looked up the word in THE NEW COLLEGE EDITION of THE AMERICAN HERITAGE DICTIONARY.

Perfect (pῠr’fikt) adj.:1.Lacking nothing essential to the whole; complete of its nature or kind. 2. In a state of undiminished or highest excellence, without defect; flawless

H-m-m-m. Now, here’s the thing. I could easily define my time paddling in a kayak down the Racquette River in the Adirondack Mountains as “perfect”. The peace and solitude of being one with nature is so very satisfying. But, a whole day? I think about my near dunkings when no beach was available for easy egress from my watercraft. Then there’s the resulting stiffness in my back while trying to carry on the next day’s activities. Being alone is a welcome change from life’s busy chaos, but being alone when there’s a bear just around the bend? Well…

My wife and I recently drove from our home in Western New York to Washington DC. The path through New York’s Finger Lakes Region and the Pennsylvania mountains COULD make for a perfect drive on a fall day. But, six hours of drippy rain and overcast mountains pretty much put a damper on that possibility.

Maybe Thanksgiving, the holiday when everyone in the family tries to gather at Mom and Dad’s place, could be “perfect”. The banter of grown siblings and their spouses, the antics of young cousins normally separated by too many miles between their homes, the lure of my wife’s homemade everything on the table. These are the makings of wonderful memories. And yet. . .

I’m not really sure if a whole day of anything is particularly suited to my disposition. In this imperfect world, it seems to me, there are no “perfect” days. Maybe “perfect” moments, but not days.

I happen to believe in a hereafter. God wouldn’t have made this world and put people on I (Yeah, I know. We and the world evolved, but, Somebody had to start it.) without a post-mortem plan. So, the “hereafter” is what I would consider the ultimate PERFECT day.

So, maybe there are perfect moments in an otherwise imperfect day. If I were to snatch a little piece of heaven out of one of my days, it just might look like this:

•  Standing on an overlook high in the mountains on a warm sunny morning;

•  “Sight Supervising” the excavation of a new construction site with my grandson;

•  Paddling around the bend of a lazy wilderness river to come upon a doe and her fawn grazing at the water’s edge;

•  Taking in the breathtaking colors of the leaves on an autumn drive through Western New York with my wife;

•  Relaxing in the shade of a large leafy tree on a hot summer day, a light breeze whispering through  its branches;

•  Settled in next to my wife on a cold winter’s eve with the fireplace flames dancing while we watch a good movie.

I guess it doesn’t take much to make me happy . . . or maybe it does.