Two Kinds of Christmases: Is there room for just one?

Sixty years ago, author John Steinbeck remarked in a letter to his friend, Adlai Stevenson, that Americans have two kinds of Christmases. Steinbeck had in mind family celebrations that were overly full of food and presents versus ones that were modest and simple. Today, those two kinds of Christmases still hold true. As our family has provided spurts of short-term foster care, I am always amazed at how the entire belongings of a child can fit into one diaper box. A box smaller than many of the presents my kids will open this Christmas Day. Despite having few belongings, imagine the pain of being ripped apart from your family. I grieve for the young soul in our care this year who must spend Christmas in a strange house, sleep in a strange bed, and try to be himself around a bunch of people he just met. I know he’d rather be home, even if that would mean a more modest feast and fewer presents.
This time of year being separated from family hurts, whether we choose it or not. Sometimes mere things like money and distance keep families apart. Other times it is something much worse: death. I visited someone earlier this week whose family has endured several deaths the past few years. She had no decorations put up around her house. The Christmas tree did not even go up this year. She said she just couldn’t get into the Christmas spirit. Since there was a pastor in her house, she backtracked a little and said she still celebrated the gift of Jesus and all, but it’s the other stuff she hasn’t wanted to bother with this year.
I reassured her that what she said was perfectly fine with me. In America we have two kinds of Christmases: the cultural one and the Christian one. The cultural one begins on November 1st, swallowing up Thanksgiving whole. It focuses on material goods, romanticizing winter, and overstuffing of all kinds. Overstuffed bellies. Overstuffed calendars. Overstuffed stress. Things must be perfectly perfect. Gifts must be satisfactory. Decorations must be hung. Music must be played. The television shows and movies often focus on some kind of magic, sometimes involving Santa Claus, in which people get to pat themselves on the back for being kind of nice just this once. Other shows may just focus on the tension and irony of having multiple generations of one family come together to tolerate one another for one day a year.
After the season of cultural Christmas ends, there is a big exhale. This kind of Christmas has nearly returned full circle to ancient Saturnalia, a time of topsy-turvy debauchery that took place in late December before the Christian church transformed it into what we now know as Christmas.
At its best, cultural Christmas gets passed down from parents to their children, full of family traditions and memories that are cherished. But when death strikes, it is this kind of Christmas that needs saving. All the bright aspects of Christmas memories become tarnished when there is suddenly one less person sharing them with us. And it feels like they won’t ever be coming back. The treats never get made. The presents do not get wrapped. The decorations remain boxed in the attic. And the whole season—complete with its short days, long nights, forced small-talk, and plastic grins—can become depressing.
All is not lost, because this is the very space where the other kind of Christmas, the Christian one, does its real work. Despite some good-meaning Christians who want to protest everything this time of year (except Hannukah, for some curious reason), the Christian Christmas is a timely annual reminder of the Christian story of creation, rebellion, redemption, and new creation. Christian Christmas centers on the Incarnation, in which God took on human nature by being conceived in the virgin Mary’s womb and then born into our fallen world to redeem us and it from our rebellion against God.
The season of Advent before Christmas Day acts as a preparation for Christmas, reminding us of our need for a savior and Christ’s promise to return to set things aright. Our loved ones may leave us, but Christ has promised he never will. As we focus on gospel themes such as hope, peace, joy, and love and sing songs about the role of Jesus’ birth in the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Christian kind of Christmas is one of the best times of year. This is not because we feel forced to feign cheer or romanticize cold and icy weather, which is hard to do in the Dakotas anyways. Rather, it is because Christian Christmas allows space for all of the human condition within the season itself, including that which makes us lament.

The only threat to the Christian kind of Christmas is when we as God’s people choke it dead. It is when we make sure our holiday lists include everything but worship and prayer. It is when we greedily make sure we take care of our families and ourselves, but neglect our neighbors. It is when our traditions, wonderful as they all are, shut out the gospel of Christ. If and when the two Christmases in America ever merge completely into one, there is no doubt the one left standing will be cultural Christmas. And on that day I hope the powers that be have the good sense to rename it Saturnalia, for it will have little to do with Christ.

*The picture is from a Christmas card by Sr. Grace Remington, O.C.S.O.