Christmas Meditations, 2014

Ebenezer Scrooge’s biting criticism of Christmas was true on the visible level: “Christmas is a time for buying things.”

The Grinch stole every inane accessory of Christmas festivity in the attempt to cancel it.  The holiday, to him, seemed merely an excuse for noise making and frivolous rituals.

Ebenezer’s conversion was a climax built on the revelation of three distinct truths: His broken past, his hapless present, and his hopeless future.  His conversion was not directly influenced by Christmas themes or traditions; rather, Christmas afforded him the opportunity to reconcile with others.  He did so mainly by giving away what he had previously withheld.

The Grinch’s conversion was effected by a noise.  His preceding resentment centered around noise, but the new noise was different and unexpected.  What grew his heart was the realization that the bobbles and trinkets which he had stolen were accidental to the meaning of the celebration.

Neither “A Christmas Carol” nor “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” are Christ-centered stories; at least not palpably.  Both stories deal with a grouchy person who desires no part in the celebration but are nevertheless wooed into the most excellent participation.  Both stories are quite predictable.  Why?

In both stories, the villain protagonists would have been correct in their judgment if their estimation of Christmas had been correct.  They scorned what they saw and heard.  There was something hidden from them and their lack of knowing that thing made them villainous.  In one sense, it was through much labor that both characters were changed.  In another sense, it was something very simple and direct which changed them.  Scrooge saw his grave.  The Grinch heard a sound.

Dr. Seuss’ story is much simpler than Dickens’ (and this should be obvious, as it was written for children).  The moral of it is nonetheless important:  Trees and carols and presents are celebration enhancers.  They give expression to the meaning of the celebration.  The meaning itself should be enough inspiration to hold hands and sing out in joy.

Ebenezer’s journey to the light of Christmas is much subtler.  His vice is singular and apparent, but the means by which he is freed of his greed shows that he is a complicated character.  He is forgetful of his past and in denial of his social condition.  He not only fails to see the meaning of Christmas; he fails to see himself.  It is by seeing himself that he is changed.

Reality is much more complex than stories but, by simplifying reality into story-form, we can understand it better.  If Christmas does not inspire us to hold hands and sing out in joy, regardless of what gifts we were given, than we have problems.  Our problems are Scrooge’s problems.  Scrooge’s problems are the Grinch’s problems.  We perceive things but remain ignorant and in our ignorance we hold false attitudes towards those things.  This holds true not merely for stuff, but for ourselves also.  We forget who we are, where we came from, and where we are heading.  The truth is what changes us, if only we see it.

We are, each one of us, broken.  We live in uneasy company with the rest of the human race.  We are all, right now, losing time until death.

The trouble with us modern-day misers is that not only do we fail to see the facts, we fail to see their relation to Christmas.  The funny thing about misers, like the pre-repentant Scrooge, is that they neglect themselves in order to store up wealth:  The wealth they store up is used for no worldly comfort or what might be deemed frivolity.  What they sweat and strain to accumulate is no more than the feeling that they need not worry.  Whatever dire necessity they need, money will buy it.  In a way, we are all misers.  We neglect things we perceive as inane for the sake of feeling OK.  Well, the joke is on us.  We sell ourselves short only for the facts to remain:  We’re screw-ups, we’re alone, we’re going to die.

There is good news for those who will hear it.

We are, each one of us, broken.  We are not, as a species, broken.  We live in uneasy company with each other, but we are united in the prospect of peace.  We are all, right now, losing time until death, yet death is unnecessary.

What insane paradoxes!  I am broken but unbroken. My enemies are my friends.  I must die but I do not have to.  How could they make sense?  For Ebenezer, the answer must have been obvious. 

The moral of both stories, so often echoed by so many Christmas films, are often presented to be, “don’t be a stick in the mud.”  A child might accept such a moral without question and so, for lack of thoughtful adults, Christmas becomes just another “kid thing.”  Be jolly, give out lots of presents, and pretend that sometimes magic exists.  Seeing and hearing amount to things beginning to look a lot like Christmas and Silver Bells on every street corner.

“Noise, noise, noise…” says the Grinch.

The joy of Christmas which changed hardened hearts cannot have been Bing Crosby’s dulcet tones.  It must have been something a little more serious.

If there is a God, the facts are worse.  Not only are we broken, but there is someone we must answer to for all of the crappy things we have done.  Not only are we at war with the world, but God is watching it all go down.  Not only will we die, but God will be there… waiting.

Then comes Christmas.  God decides to become one of us.  He is born into the world as a flesh-and-blood human being; a messy, puny little baby.

God, master of the universe, is cold.