The Changing Meaning Of Holidays

I was waxing nostalgic as we cleaned up the kitchen after our Thanksgiving dinner.  We worked together, Hub and I, and were laughing about our  long tradition of swapping the planning and cooking of our major holiday meals.  This year Thanksgiving was my turn - Christmas will be his.

Then, perhaps, we'll write off the tradition to our memories.  It's getting to be  more chore than fun as we get older.  We can't eat nor drink as much as we used to, we're exhausted by days end.

It got me to thinking how all the holidays have changed over the years and how to me they've lost their meaning.  At least the meaning I grew up with.  Halloween for instance.  Hardly anyone goes trick or treating any more.  Too many crimes against the kids and too many interlopers into neighborhoods where they weren't known nor welcome.  Heck, part of the fun for the tykes, at least when I was one, was having the neighbors pretend to have to guess who you were and, too, you could eat the treats without parental scrutiny when you got home.

Now it's chintzy store bought costumes and private parties held mostly by churches unless they  happen to be one that thinks Halloween is anti-Christian and should' be celebrated at all. Cops and nurses, indeed.  To keep order where order shouldn't be needed to be kept.

Thanksgiving has lost out to Black Friday and now even Black Thanksgiving day.  The headlines this morning, as usual, are filled with reports of tramplings and shootings and robbery and violent mayhem in general.  What is it we're thankful for?  That the stores are now opening even earlier than before?  That we're spending big bucks on gifts for ourselves rather than others?  It used to be a time of reflection and thanks for the blessings we've received mostly for carrying out our part of having been a good, compassionate citizen of a great country.  What happened to that?

Christmas is just around the corner though actually it's been around for a good part of late summer as well. While a celebration of Christ's birth, it's also a  reminiscence of traditions from a multitude of cultures and religions - including paganism.  Yet there are those who take offense at what used to be the most festive time of the year by trying to ban the very words, Merry Christmas.  It's hard to find cards with that sentiment any more.  Manger scenes in public parks are forbidden.  Trees aren't allowed in airports.  Come on!  If the box stores can begin selling decorations in July why can't we enjoy carolling around the manger in the park?  Isn't it commercial enough?

Of course we know that isn't the reason.  We've just become a very angry, selfish, self serving society.
Why else do feel good stories about the good people do become the last segment once a week on a "news" show where the rarity of such events is  heralded as wonderful exceptionalism rather than the norm?

Why is it necessary to be subjected to 24/7 diatribes on the failure of the ACA roll out and all the finger pointing that goes with it yet the story about the death of the boy with cancer who wanted one more Christmas, the one where an entire town created just that outside his bedroom window so he could have that one final wish, the experiencing of Christmas, was buried at the bottom of an obscure inside page of the paper and never at all heard on live media?

Times have changed.  Priorities have changed.  Negativity, anger and bitterness have trumped anticipation, ambition, triumph and joy.

" 'Tis the season" keeps running through my head.  But 'tis the season for what?

Whack A Mole In The Mideast

It's a snowy Sunday morning. Everyone must be online for even our high speed is slower than molasses. That has given me time to peruse the headlines. I wish I had made a snowman instead.

We have two more holidays of the semi-religious sort before we get into the 'traditional' holiday season. Thanksgiving, which is self-explanatory, and Black Friday which is a pagan tribute to the shopping gods.

So how is the world faring as we look forward to December? Let's begin on our own shores. The Bishop of Providence Rhode Island has revealed that he asked asked Representative Patrick Kennedy, back in 2007, to refrain from taking Communion because of his political stance on abortion. It seems to have resurfaced due to it's inclusion in health care reform which, as a good Democrat, Kennedy supports. "Your position is unacceptable to the church and scandalous to many of our members." Well, they should know all about scandals - both the church and the Kennedys!

Moving on across the ocean the Pope and the Archbishop of Canterbury had to sort out some differences about the alleged recruiting by the Catholic church of unhappy Anglicans.

Then there is the news from the Middle East, the confluence of religions. We have Israeli jets bombing 'suspected' weapons factories in Gaza and Palestinians lobbing rockets into Israel.

We have al Qaeda doing it's best to cripple the Iraqi government as U.S. troops withdraw and the Iraqi government itself is ramping up attacks against what's left of Saddam's loyalists, the Baathists, before the January elections.

I won't even get into the stalemate in Afghanistan while the troops anxiously await their Thanksgiving and Christmas MRE's. It's getting difficult to keep track of the violence as the most holy of days approaches.

Most holy of days. I got to thinking...

holy |ˈhōlē|
adjective ( holier , holiest )
1 dedicated or consecrated to God or a religious purpose; sacred : the Holy Bible | the holy month of Ramadan. See note at divine .
• (of a person) devoted to the service of God : saints and holy men.
• morally and spiritually excellent : I do not lead a holy life.
2 informal used as an intensifier : having a holy good time.
3 dated or humorous used in exclamations of surprise or dismay : holy smoke!

and

holiday |ˈhäliˌdā|
noun
a day of festivity or recreation when no work is done : December 25 is an official public holiday.
• [as adj. ] characteristic of a holiday; festive : a holiday atmosphere.
• chiefly Brit. (often holidays) a vacation : I spent my summer holidays on a farm | Fred was on holiday in Spain.
verb [ intrans. ] chiefly Brit.
spend a holiday in a specified place : he is holidaying in Italy.

Note their is no mention of 'peace' in either definition.

peace |pēs|
noun
1 freedom from disturbance; quiet and tranquility : you can while away an hour or two in peace and seclusion.
• mental calm; serenity : the peace of mind this insurance gives you.
2 freedom from or the cessation of war or violence : the Straits were to be open to warships in time of peace.
• [in sing. ] a period of this : the peace didn't last.
• [in sing. ] a treaty agreeing to the cessation of war between warring states : support for a negotiated peace.
• freedom from civil disorder : police action to restore peace.
• freedom from dispute or dissension between individuals or groups : the 8.8 percent offer that promises peace with the board.
3 ( the peace) a ceremonial handshake or kiss exchanged during a service in some churches (now usually only in the Eucharist), symbolizing Christian love and unity. See also kiss of peace at kiss .

Have I just stumbled upon the missing link?

Seasons Greetings

Those Long Winter Nights Of Times Past

In an attempt to beat the snow, Hub got the outside decorations up in a timely manner. It also gave me a chance to get a jump on the indoor decorating which I usually don't begin until after the tree is up. This year the tree is the last item on the agenda.

It also gave me time to sort through boxes that had been unopened for years and, oh, did the memories come flooding back. Our trees have always been eclectic. We have all the ornaments from Hub's family and mine as well as the ones we have added over our thirty nine Christmases together. We have old clip on candle holders from the days they were actually used and the candles lighted to illuminate the tree and tin reflectors that were used when bulbs came into vogue. Our trees are always wonderful. At least to us.

What really brought back the memories though, were several boxes I had nearly forgotten about. The minerature ornaments Dad made for the miniature trees my brother and I had in our rooms.

Back when we had those trees we didn't have television. Dad spent most of his evenings tucked away in his basement workshop while we kids were doing our homework or being tucked into bed. Wonderful creations would emerge. Most often at Christmas time. The contents of these boxes were part of that treasure. The ornaments he made for those little trees.

I found the perfect tree at Michael's. It has shorter needles than most of the mini trees and was perfect for decorating. As I unpacked those boxes I examined each of the creations within and marveled at the patience he had to have, first of all find such tiny adornments, but to then drill the smallest of holes in what had to be extremely fragile goods and insert the finest of wire to form the hooks. He even took birthday cake candles and cut them down to make the candle clips. It must have taken me a couple of hours to finish the job. I was handling the most precious of treasures. My Dad had made them - for me - and my brother. During those long winter evenings.

Ah, those wonderful memories. The family decorating the tree together on Christmas eve then off to midnight mass. It became tradition. And our trees, our very own, to brighten our rooms.

We weren't able to light those candles, but the folks sure knew how to light up our hearts.

The Atheists Are Winning!

I was looking for an illustration of a symbol of Atheism for this post and this is what I found. Talk about an identity crisis! The suggestion I like the best is just a blank space. It has far more dignity than any of the symbols represented in the religious war being fought in Olympia, Washington over Christmas displays at the Capitol.

Christmas displays. Like the one a Kansas group wants to erect that states "Santa Claus Will Take You To Hell." And another that states Santa is a child molester and the cause of U.S. troop deaths. "God's hate" is the cause of our economic woes.

We still lived in the area when Christmas Trees became Holiday Trees. That was at least fifteen years ago! I'm willing to wager a sign stating "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men," is no where to be seen!

Having recently finished reading The God Delusion, by Richard Dawkins, I find the case made for non-belief in God seems more sound than most would find comfortable. If actions speak louder than words, the happenings in Olympia are a testimony to that premise!

Is it not bad enough that most wars are based on the hatred bred by religious differences? Is it not a warning when in our own country people who don't even reside within in the state of Washington are taking cases to court for the right to express their hate for those who don't share their views?

How does this apply to Atheists? At least for those who feel no need to organize? They can look at all the conflict and walk away unaffected. They don't believe in God, nor heaven, nor hell so there is no basis for hatred.

One thing I have noticed that has aroused my curiosity. All the "religions" involved have their names capitalized. Baptists, Evangelicals, Jews, Muslims, Catholics, and so on. Never atheist. Why is that?

As for Olympia and it's struggle with what to and what not to allow. Heck, let anyone put up a display celebrating whatever holiday that is meaningful to them. But leave the other guys alone. No more of this my god is better than your god nor damning others for not agreeing with your view. And send the out of state folks back to their own turf!

That just might incorporate the right tone for "good will toward men." One can only hope.

Black Friday: What A Way To Start The "Holiday"

Black Friday has come and gone. It is called "Black" Friday because it is the day when retailers go from red, if they've had a slow year, to black. Often, as is the case this year, the meaning may more closely follow along with these lyrics from Les Mis:

Red...The color of desire! Black...The color of despair!

So it was at a Wal-Mart where a worker was trampled to death by over zealous shoppers. So filled with desire were they that when store management announced in despair that people had been seriously injured and would everyone cease shopping and vacate the store, it was to no avail.

It leads me to wonder if we as a nation really ever take a close look at our behavior. If we did we'd understand why the rest of the world has come to dismiss us. This is a a prime example.

Here we are at the beginning of one of what Christians are supposed to consider the most Holy time of the year. It doesn't mean that any more, not at all. It begins the time of year where pious pronouncements rule. A headline shouts Atheists will post own display telling of another episode of demanding equal representation of displays on government property. I'm willing to wager this is a nationwide occurrence and has become as annual an event as the Black Friday shopping madness.

Also in this morning's paper was a superb column, Bible passages at times contradict Christian message . In it the writer talks of all the versions of the bible that are "out there" and how they vary from one to another. He also talks of how passages tend to be cherry picked and interpreted to suit various ambitions.

This is of course not news to those of us interested in such. People, at least in this country, are free to believe in what they like. What I have a problem with is hypocrisy. I couldn't live with myself if I knew I had been a part of actions causing a death in the name of getting a "bargain". For Christmas.

To me the reality of "Christmas" has been reduced to frenzied shopping, parades, lights, presents and more presents and the cheaper the better. No thanks.

When December 25th actually rolls around store decorations will have been up for over three months, the music will have gotten tiresome and the "spirit", if it isn't hot buttered rum or spiced wine, will be cranky. Actually attending a church service may be more obligatory then heartfelt.

No thanks. We'll have our tree. Yes. Tradition, memories of family and times long gone. Our peace and good will will be toward one another and those of our friends who make no demands on our views in the name of a book or a being that isn't being well served in the first place.

Dad

It was New Years Day, 1982. Mom and Dad were having lunch with old friends at the Jonathon Club in Santa Monica. They had come for the holidays. Two days later they returned to their home in North Carolina. It was the last time I saw him.

They were a handsome couple; the butchers son, the Catholic, the Democrat who married his high school sweetheart. Mom was the bankers daughter, the Presbyterian, the Republican. My brother and I, both adopted, are definitely products of a mixed marriage. And what a marriage it was. I have never know a couple more devoted to one another nor better matched. Mom outlived him by eighteen years. She was courted, a lot, but no one could live up to what he had been.

Dad. An engineer, he could build anything. A doll house for me from scratch. There were no kits in those days. It even had a table that served as the yard complete with lawn and flower beds. A basement beneath it. And, as houses in those days were, a detached garage. Completely furnished including the car. My Christmas present.

When I was older he built me a play house. Ten by twelve with an eight foot ceiling. It was like a real one room house. He furnished it with a table, chairs made from barrels and we moved cots in so I could have my slumber parties there.

He loved to work in the yard. We had the best victory garden on the street. He presided over the men's civic club and was a scout leader. All this combined with a large chunk of time on the road. Such was the nature of his work. Back in the days of trains.

Yet he was always there. For everything important. He was our strength and our moral compass.

He introduced me to the grown up world of fine wine and dining and theater and art, this son of a butcher. When money was tight he bailed me out. When I'd have questions about anything we'd philosophize.

That last visit summed up what he meant to me. We had taken a day trip to Solvang, a fair distance from our home in Simi Valley. The weather turned nasty. Heavy rains and wind and darkness fell. I was driving, tired and tense. He talked to me. Quietly. Steadily. He kept me calm and awake. When we finally got home he fixed the cocktails while telling me to relax and what a great job of driving I had done. He was the one, though, with the keen insight and steady hand. His was on the wheel as well as my own. I could sense it.

I think of the poem Footprints in the Sand by Mary Stevenson where she is having a conversation with God and asks

"...But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there have been only one set of footprints in the sand."

to which He replied ..."The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand, is when I carried you."

That's what my Dad was - and is - to me. I've neither my Dad nor my Mom now except in memories and all that was a part them that is now instilled in the very fiber of my being. What's good about that is they're where they belong. Together.