Why I Celebrate Christmas

I read a post on my brother's fb page a while ago about the origins of Christmas, and have thought about my response to that article. So I thougth I would write. Let me say that while I looked for that article now, I did not in fact find it, so I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies I may give, for it has been a while since I read it, and I am sure I will be corrected. Let me just summarize the gist of the article as I remember it:

1. Christmas isn't really His birthday
2. It is NOT then the reason for the season
3. Christians are not to be taken seriously


The article stated that Christmas began as a Pagan holiday. In fact that day was originally a holiday to celebrate Jupieter, a Roman God, I believe. That is not in question, at least not in my mind.

As a culture, we celebrate birthdays. We celebrate our families' and friends birthdays with joy. We are glad they are part of our lives. They have touched us, and many continue to do so for years. Early Christians wanted to celebrate the birth of their Lord and Savior, even Jesus Christ. They did not know what day that was, so they chose one. Does this diminish the celebration or make it worth derision? Absolutely not!! If in centuries to come, I found that my posterity no longer knew when my birth had taken place, but felt they wanted to celebrate that I had touched them in some way, I cannot imagine how incredibly honored I would be if they, in their lack of knowledge, decided to choose a day and celebrate my birth. That to me, is a testament of their love. And it is no different for Christians. That it has remained to this day, and grown to a celebration of world wide proportions only serves to reinforce the effect the Son of God had on this earth while he walked it.

As a child, I heard the story of Christmas, and gave it some thought, though not a whole lot. It gave the day some meaning. But really, I remember the gifts. Not just opening them and the getting of them, but the thoughtful efforts of a child with almost zero money to provide gifts for those I loved. We made them, emptied our piggy banks for them, did whatever we could to, with a gift, say I love you. That is what many in the world do now. That often this is overdone is true, but the love behind the giving is there. Much of the world takes time to find the 'perfect' gift for loved ones, spending their time and treasure in doing so. I was no different, and I am sure that many of you are the same. I remember with warmth the gifts I received that I knew took sacrifice to obtain, like the runner sleds my brother and I received from an older teenage brother who worked part time at a fast food restaurant, and chose to spend what little he had on his little brother and sister. I also remember the pains my parents took late at night so that there was MORE on Christmas morning to greet us when we awoke, evidence that Santa had come. They even let us believe that they were not responsible for this generous giving, letting us enjoy the magic of children at Christmastime. We gather family, contact those far away yet dear, share meals, and celebrate each other. Is this not love?

I loved Christmas as a child, and yes, when it was white and cold, it only added to the ambiance. I say with Scrooge's nephew, in response to his Bah! Humbugging,

"There are many things from which I might have derived good by which I have not profited I dare say. I have always thought of Christmas time - apart from the veneration due to it's sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that - as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, Uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe it hasdone me good and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!"

I feel that sentiment applies to the first part of my life. Christmas has done me good and there was no doubt that it would continue to do me good. Lots of it. That good came to me regardless of the fact that I was not a devout Christian. That the origin of Christmas is not centered in Christ is RIDICULOUS to me to consider and would have been so even as a child who didn't give it much thought. Does one not recognize, as Scrooge's own nephew, the origin of the name? Christmas refers to Him who's birth many celebrate. Those who celebrate for reasons of tradition, culture, or habit, are none-the-less showing their love, and receiving gifts from those who remember them, and care that they have touched their lives. Christmas, therefore, has indeed done them good, as someone took care to remember them on that day, or in that season. It's roots are in Christ, and that cannot be denied. No longer do I celebrate Christmas solely because my family, community, culture, or tradition does, though I am grateful that those things happened in my earlier life. Very grateful. We, like Scrooge's nephew, kept Christmas in our way. I am sure that keeping it is pleasing to the very being who's birth we celebrate. Now, I celebrate Christmas for those reasons, but more importantly, I celebrate Christ. He is MY Savior and Redeemer, and I am so grateful that we know that he was born in a stall, wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger, that angels sang of His birth, and the shepherds recorded it. I am more grateful that He chose to dedicate His life, and during His earthly ministry, His comfort to teach, bless, heal thousands upon thousands, and ultimately suffer, bleed and die for me. That He did this is no longer a question in my mind, and has not been since I asked God, the Eternal Father, if it were true that He had done this thing, and whether it was truly that important. The answer I received was so very personal, profound, and powerful. I have never forgotten. The virgin birth would not have been remembered without the cross, and His glorious resurrection, which we celebrate at Easter time. Christmas without Easter is nothing. But He was tortured, died, and was resurrected. He allowed himself to go through agony for you and me. As was said this morning, of all the gifts that we give and receive, this is the most important gift, and I will NOT leave it under the tree, discarded, ignored, derided, or unwrapped because I couldn't be bothered to spend the time to understand it.

So this Christmas, as I remember Christ, I celebrate because He has PERSONALLY, profoundly, and wonderfully touched my life. I celebrate His birth with joy and gladness, and don't care if that wasn't the day He was actually born, I will still celebrate that He was. I also celebrate that this season of giving, with it's origins in scripture and in the events surrounding the birth of Jesus Christ (anyone heard of the wise men?), has the effect of opening hearts to one another, even those who have no idea where or why Christmas began. The Spirit of Christ permeates the season, whether we choose to recognize it or not. Bah! Humbug away, Mr. Scrooge, but I say, like Tiny Tim, God bless us. God bless us, every one! Merry Christmas, everyone.

Marleigh Savage