We got out early from school Thursday. I returned an hour later with Secret Santa presents and a cooler full of pop for our French Club Christmas party. (When students want to come back and spend another three hours at school on an early release day, that may be a victory!)
As I headed down the quiet hallway, I spotted a dark-haired girl sitting alone on a bench. She was tapping away at her computer. Maybe she was finishing homework (though what sort of heartless beast would assign homework over the Christmas break?). Maybe she was using Facebook to temper the isolation of her wait in the hall. Maybe she was just playing Monster Truck Furbie Tetris or whatever it is I catch kids doing during study hall. But this was the hall, not study hall, so I didn't inquire.
I did play the dorky teacher (play? I live that role). Approaching, I smiled and said: "You know, it's Christmas! School's out!"
She smiled back that awkward teenage smile I see a hundred times a day, the smile that gets me to work on time. Step, step... I got three steps past when she ventured in her timorous voice, "Merry Christmas?"
Yes, deep down, it was a question, like most uncertain teenage utterances, with a slight upward twist of the ending intonation, the twist that says, "Is this what I say to fit in? Will you think I'm a dork for saying it?"
In the Hallmark movie version of my life, I'm supposed to stop, return to the girl, kneel before her, clasp her hands between mine, and say as music swells, "Bless you, dear child, for sharing the spirit of the season!" In the Life and Liberty Group propaganda version of my life, I'm supposed to write her up for peddling religious myths in public school, thus reaffirming their claim that atheists are waging war on Christmas.
In real life, I turn (cautiously, heavy cooler on shoulder), return her greeting, and continue to my classroom.
I am glad that girl said Merry Christmas to me. I enjoy hearing people wish each other well. I enjoy seeing neighbors dispel the gloom of long, cold solstice nights with strings of lights (not to mention Santa and Frosty on a mechanized seesaw). I am glad to see people take time to share gifts and chocolate and fellowship and more chocolate. I am glad to see our entire nation create and share this time out of time, when offices and stores are closed, when the TV stations replace regular programming with Rudolph, George Bailey, and the Pope, when nearly everyone gets the sense that "Hey, we're not supposed to go about our normal business. We're supposed to take a moment, think about what matters... and think about each other."
But I am not glad to hear "Merry Christmas" turned from a goodwill wish into a battle cry. Some media figures foster the illusion that there is a "war" on Christmas. Such declarations encourage Christians to declare war, to fight back.
Christmas has no room for militancy. Christmas says, "Shhh! New baby! Wonder. Awe. Shhh." (Think Children of Men, the scene descending the stairs.) Those who base their religion on the birth of one baby in a barn 2000 years ago say that baby came to bring peace on earth. Believers ought to model that peace in word and deed. Non-believers ought to respect and embrace that spirit. If you're going to turn "Merry Christmas!" into fighting words, then keep them to yourselves. Militancy negates the meaning of Christmas wishes. "Happy New Year!" becomes more meaningful; you're at least thinking long-term, wishing me a whole year of health and happiness. Plain old "Have a nice day!" becomes daily goodwill, a regular reminder that we view each other as fellow beings, not objects in our personal political crusades. If you're fighting a war, you're not celebrating Christmas.
Girl in the hallway, I hope you're having a wonderful holiday... even if it means you're stuck in the living room this morning with your annoying little brother or your dad and your uncle and their boring talk about football. If your cranky Aunt Lucinda starts complaining all those darn atheists waging war on the biggest religion in the world, tell her to peace out... and remind her that the secular humanist French teacher at your school wishes you a Merry Christmas... and a Happy New Year... and very, very nice day.
Very beautiful Cory. You old heathen you. Merry Christmas, brother.
I have always had a bit of ambivalence on the Merry part. Seemed it was the first oil on the slippery slope of secularization of what I actually consider more significant than even the Resurrection.
That God can beat death doesn't really impress me. What does is He would choose to live among us. Now that is significant.
I like Joyful Christmas even though I say Merry. May Peace be found today and always in your house. He lives among us. Praise be to God.
Woman is the hope of humankind:
1. O Sanctissima O Piissima
Dulcis Virgo Maria
Mater amta intemerata
Ora ora pro nobis
2. Tota pulchraes O Maria
Et macula non est in te
Mater anmata intemerata
Ora ora pro nobis
3. Sicut lilium inter spinas
Sic Maria inter filias
Mater amata intemerata
Ora ora pro nobis
4. In miseria in angustia
Ora Virgo pro nobis
Pro nobis ora in mortis hora
Ora ora pro nobis
Thank you for hosting us, Cory.
Troy, I think the "merry" part is perhaps a throwback to the old days when we were more at odds with the elements than we are now, especially in the northern climates. The light goes away, it's really cold, the food supply gets limited, and our warm, friendly relationship with nature gets really challenged. The best we could do was huddle together, share our food and body heat and try to make it through untill the sun comes back out and the ice melts so we can get out of the house and go fishing.
Given all that, a lot of us would get depressed, so the ones who figured out that the days are about to start getting longer got us to celebrate that things were now going to start getting better and that we should maybe be happy about it.
So, given our limited English lexicon, we kind of had to choose between "merry" and "gay." It seems the wassailers of old used both terms interchangeably, but lately, not so much. (Seems they saved "happy" for the New Year wish.)
Interesting, even so, that we might just as well be referring to gays as joyfuls. Words are so inagequate sometimes. I agree.
Joyful Christmas, Troy.
May there be peace on Earth, and may it begin with us.
Beautiful post and story, Cory. If that student was or is perhaps lonely or somewhat of an outcast, let's hope that your short conversation with her brought a little joy and recognition. Many youth need that extra-whatever that extra is even if it's more firm and regular discipline. Let's celebrate the Christmas season by looking people straight in the eye, firm handshake, and displaying a genuine appreciation for all.
There was a war on Christmas once. It was waged by Puritans and other strict Protestant Christian sects who believed Christmas and similar religious holidays were unChristian or Papist. Some of these people brought this war against Christmas across the Atlantic, where they established colonies in America. For many years, Christmas celebrations were forbidden in their Massachusetts colonies in the name of Christ.
As they say on the big road (interstate highway)
"Have a Merry Merry,and a Happy Happy, from me and mine to you and yours."
Maybe that girl knew you are an atheist, Cory, and wanted to wish you well, not deny Christ, and not offend you, all at the same time.
From me: here's to a Merry Christmas, happy holidays, a great new year, and many more thought-provoking blog posts.
Sometimes I think we Americans have some sort of perverse need to imagine "wars" on everything ... communism, poverty, terrorism, Christianity, gay rights, male chauvinist pigs, and things that go "bump" in the night.
From me: Peace on everybody. Peace on everything.
Larry, I don't know Latin but a few phrases but I know I probably love that song as I know it is about the person who said the greatest "yes" in His Story.
May God bless you all.
Thank you, my friends, and the same warm wishes back at you. I suspect we are incapable of giving the magnitude of love that so inspires Troy in the story of Jesus and Mary... but we can keep trying.
Larry's last verse:
In misery, in anguish,
Virgin, pray for us,
Pray for us in our mortal hour,
Pray, pray for us.
Pray for us—hear those words sung with particular passion in a different Latin text here. Troy and his fellow Catholics are right to give Mary marquee billing.
Mary is Earth, our true mother.
May we have the wisdom to preserve the love you have for all your children: every rock, every earthworm, every flower.
Give us the strength to resist those that believe that capitalism will protect land, life, and hope. Anyone who believes that success is measured by pecuniary metrics is lost to the masters who feed him.
Amen.
The Biblical fascination with killing firstborn males must mean that God is a gay pervert.