It was true. I could notice the cultural change. From the constant barrage of Christmas songs, to the hurried but energetic “Merry Christmas” that every cashier threw out with the receipt—something had changed since I had left Brown. No “Happy Holidays”, no “Season’s Greetings”, no—this was a different place, at the same time. Despite being a committed Christian, I wasn’t finding this all that encouraging, and as I’ve ruminated on it, I can sit here, on the night of one of the most celebrated Christian holidays, and share the conclusions I came to. I do feel like I’ve heard my fair share of calls for tolerance and inclusivity on the one hand, and rallying calls from those who feel as if they are being marginalized within their own culture. Oddly (for me), I found a connection between Christmas greetings and a subject of constant confusion for me (politics) through a common subject: identity.
First, background on this idea of identity. Despite being a Christian, the heart of my religious experience has not come through my identification as a Christian. In so many ways, it’s been quite separate from that. It just so happens that these experiences have led me straight back to identification as a Christian. The truth is, though, you can call me a Christian, a member of the sect of the Nazarene, a member of the Jesus cult…it doesn’t make much difference. My religious experience hasn’t been based on my identification with a certain cultural group. Rather, my religious experience lies in a spiritual journey from darkness, blindness, confusion, and despair to light, sight, revelation, and hope…it’s a spiritual journey that’s sometimes hard to explain. In many ways, I relate to the Christians cliché, “It’s not about a religion; it’s about a relationship”.
What my experience contrasts with, and which I by no means mean to disparage, is religious experience experienced primarily through identification. There’s a powerful feeling that can come when you place a little fish on your car. It can say, “I’m on this side”—and we all love to be on a team; we all love to belong to something. That isn’t necessarily bad. From what I understand, millions of people have this identification at the core of their religious experience, and whether I relate or not, that’s something real. Millions of people experience religion as something that says, “I am part of this group, this people, the ones who meet together on this time, at this day. We do this. We believe this.” It’s powerful—and I too identify with a religion, Christianity. I go to church on Sunday; I try to love God and love people; I believe in the trinity and in a God who came to earth to save us. But that identification with others who are similar to me is not at the heart of why I choose to remain a Christian.
I think that’s why I feel withdrawn from the American “culture war”. I’m not particularly invested in whether or not “my people” control this culture or not. Rather, I’m concerned with the Kingdom of God—the one Jesus talked about. A spiritual reality that revolutionizes every other reality—emotional, physical, and mental. I identify with Christ—so I want to see love, peace, and hope come to my culture, and every culture as a matter of fact. This Kingdom of God though—it’s a whole lot bigger than my bumper sticker. That’s why I don’t need to assert that it should in fact be “Merry Christmas” rather than any other greeting. It’s why I don’t need to hear leaders pay lip service to Christian culture. In fact, it’s why I won’t vote for a political candidate just because they’re a Christian. It’s also why I think that religion absolutely matters in politics.
You see, if religion was about identity alone for everyone, then I would be able to say that we shouldn’t bring our religion into politics. After all, we’re trying to do what’s best for everyone—not just for “my group”. And I agree. We’re trying to do what’s best for the whole country and that means sticking to things that are relevant and….oh man. Reality. I guess we could say that politics is trying to deal with reality (though certainly not always succeeding). And for me, that means that politics is tied to my religious experience (the experience that goes beyond my identity with a group on to every area of reality). I know that not all politicians share my experience. But I’m interested in the religion of a candidate, not because I just want my team to “win”, but because I understand that a person’s religion may just have something to do with their beliefs and their beliefs almost certainly will have something to do with their actions. For me at least, I try to make that the case.
Happy Holidays.
Absolutely phenomenal. I particularly like what you said at the end about politics. It’s so true.
(what a line!)
Frankly, I oftentimes feel convicted about the amount of investment I have in politics. I love my University with incredible ferver; I love my country quite a lot more; but I love my God most of all. Which means, ultimately, all things that I do, ought to be a reflection of His will and His nature. Sadly, I fall short.
I think you do well to point out that you “don’t need to hear leaders pay lip service to Christian culture.” This has to be true, particularly if you believe it is the hearts (or whatever part of the body you want to identify as the one dealing with emotions–neuroscience majors can get nitpicky and call it the brain) of people that must change for anything to matter. Merely pointing out that the origins of what has become a holiday to the God of consumerism was once a holiday dedicated to Jesus Christ is as convoluted as the sun-worshiping pagan correcting the Christian everytime he says Merry Christmas: “don’t you mean happy Winter Solstice?” he might ask. There will likely be no heart change for the individual who is chastized for doing what has become socially acceptable (and somehow neutral). And if there is a heart change, it will likely be one of apathy towards the driving force behind this crusader’s anti-other-holidays rant. Which is to say, the one who insists on making people say “merry Christmas” is probably having an opposite effect on their hearts than he would want.
Overall, I agree. It’s not usually one’s words that act as the manifestion of the contents of one’s heart, rather, the things that we do (perhaps even the things that we do in private where no one can know they’ve been done) are the greatest indications of what we believe. That’s why I am oftentimes taken aback by the Christian who insists that the cashier at his grociery store wish him a merry Christmas rather than a happy holiday.
I think it all boils down to prudence. We have to know which hill to die on. And I don’t think that societies refusal to say “Merry Christmas” is a battle worth fighting. Rather, I would say, the exiting of the words from the vernacular is a symptom of the nature of the true battle–Jesus is being ignored. People are ignoring him, oftentimes, because of the example they see Christians set. And if making people say “Merry Christmas” is done at the expense of getting them to understand who Christ is (or worse, giving them the wrong impression of who Christ is) then it is not only an unjustifiable war, but it harms the Kingdom of God.