The Spirit of the Season

The last week of Advent is really when Christmas gears up for me. I’m at home, the house is decorated, there is a series of goodies streaming out of the kitchen, and I spend the evenings watching the same Christmas movies every year. The fourth week of Advent feels pretty much the same every year, and that’s a good thing. It’s comfort, it’s tradition, it’s Christmas.

The Christmas movies, and the plethora of commercial breaks, reminds me that Christmas has become a primarily secular holiday. Secular Christmastime is the day after Thanksgiving to December 25. And all the TV specials, movies, and advertisements feed into the reasons for that season: family and caring for others. These aren’t bad virtues by any means. Secular Christmas promotes goodwill and charity and peace on earth. But it leaves out the Christ and Mass part of Christmas. Where is faith in secular Christmas?

Well, after my movie watching this week, I think faith is still there. Jesus isn’t going to be mentioned by name, and church is rarely going to be shown. Those topics are still too controversial for mainstream audiences. But Christmas special after Christmas special calls on its characters to believe. Believe in Santa, believe in the spirit of Christmas, believe in a purely generic, unspecified sense for no reason except that it’s Christmas. Even for those that ignore the religious origins of the holiday, there is an innate sense that the season is one of belief. Feelings of goodwill and charity do not have to be scrutinized under logic and empirical testing. People give in to desires of peace and hope and faith. That’s the beauty in the spirit of Christmas.

Beauty and magic always win out in Christmas movies. Santa is always proved to be real, even if he defies logic. Miracles always save the day, and the characters accept the miracles, because it’s Christmas. So even when I get a bit down about how secularized the message of Christmas has become—to the point that Christ isn’t mentioned by name at all—I am comforted by the fact that secular Christmas just can’t let go of the message of Christmas: Believe.

Joy in the World

 

It’s easy to think that the world is awful. And that it’s only getting worse. It’s easy to cite the violence and hunger and poverty. The protests over institutional injustice. The continuing military conflicts. The overconsumption, overmedication, oversexualization. On Sunday/Monday, there was the hostage situation in a café in Sydney. It’s easy to look at the news and fear for the future. 

One way to deal with the awful is to be prepared. Fight the odds, be cautious, don’t be a statistic. Have a 3-month food supply, buy a gun, take off your shoes at airport security. The show Doomsday Preppers shows the extreme of this. Those people are preparing for the complete dismantling of civilization. The end is near—be afraid.

Advent is all about preparation. But it is the complete opposite of fear. The angels said, “Be not afraid! I bring tidings of great joy!” The future that Advent promises is one of increasing terror; it is of victory from that terror. The Savior is coming; the future is one of victory and joy! Preparation does not mean hiding under a desk, waiting for a blast. Preparation means cleaning the house, opening the doors—embracing the change about to arrive.

Preparation requires reflection and work, which is why this is a season of penance. But we are preparing for a very good future, which is why Gaudete Sunday reminds us that joy belongs there too. Yes, the world can look pretty awful and bleak. But the story isn’t over yet. We can be redeemed. The end is near—be joyous!

Put on a Yarmulke

Tonight is the first night of Hanukkah, the Jewish festival of light. So many cultures celebrate light during the darkest time of year. Gentiles probably know more about Hanukkah than other Jewish holidays for the fact that it is always tacked on to Christmas greetings when holiday parties need to appear ecumenical. But Hanukkah isn’t Jewish Christmas. It celebrates a military victory and the restoration of the temple.

But that doesn’t mean that Christians should ignore it completely. It is, after all, Biblical. The two books of Maccabees chronicle Judas Maccabee fighting off foreign invaders and protecting Israel’s temple. He and his small band of fighters liberate Jerusalem from Syrian-Greek rule and cleanse the temple, which had been profaned during the occupation. Following the dedication of a new altar, Judea celebrated for eight days. Judas and his brothers declare that the festival will be observed annually (1 Macc 4:54-59, 2 Macc 10:6-9).

The Hanukkah story of the oil in the temple lasting eight days (when it wasn’t expected to last that long) isn’t found in these books and is part of the Jewish Talmud, written much later. However, it was customary to light lamps during the celebration of the temple’s dedication. The word Hanukkah means "to dedicate." The lamps, and light, signified the Law. And as with most festivals of light taking place in winter, light represents a victory over the darkness, a liberation from an oppressor.

This victory and dedication meant so much to the Jewish people that they made the celebration an annual festival of light. And almost 200 years later, Jesus celebrates it as well. One winter, Jesus goes up to Jerusalem and the temple for the feast of the Dedication (John 10:22-23). Now, just because Jesus celebrated it doesn’t mean Christians are called to celebrate it. We’re not called to celebrate any Jewish holidays, seeing as we’re not Jewish. But since Jesus did come to us in a Jewish context, and because so much of our symbolism and typology rely on Jewish tradition, it is good to understand it.

For all the stories of military battles and conquering in the Old Testament, this is one that seems so easy for Christians to relate to. There’s a dominant culture in charge that many Jews find alluring. Several have left the faith for the novelty of this other faith or for the political convenience of going along with those in power. It shows the dangers of not being true to the faith. And then, once the oppressors are fought and conquered, there are still the scars; the temple has been profaned. It takes time to bring the people back, to build a new alter, to rededicate the temple. Finally, the story ends in victory; light conquers darkness!