| Ode
to Christmas
By Mike Bennighof, Ph.D.
President, Avalanche Press
The checkout lady at the grocery store thinks
my six-year-old twins are seriously deluded.
"Santa Claus brought me a paintable alligator
this morning," Anton announced. "And
I hope he brings me a fish tomorrow."
"Christmas is over, honey."
"No, it goes on for 12 days. Don't you
know about the 12 Days of Christmas? Santa
comes every day."
"No, dear, Santa will come back next
year. He's gone back to the North Pole."
"No, he hasn't. You just don't believe
enough."
Twelve Days of Christmas, the old Roman Catholic
tradition of Christmastide, is largely forgotten
today outside of the sappy carol. That's unfortunate,
and when I had children of my own I decided
to hold to the old ways: 12 days to see one
year out and the new one in. It's one of the
best decisions I've ever made, leaving me
happy and relaxed even as I watch people around
me melt into puddles of holiday rage.
Celebration of December 25th as a feast day long pre-dates
Christianity; the Zoroastrian Feast of Mithra
marked the sun god's birth from solid rock.
Some of the Mithra story's other trappings,
like his attendance by shepherds, may have
been added after the Christian tale came into
wide circulation. Exactly when Christians
fixed on the date is hard to tell for sure,
with the earliest clear reference dating to
336 A.D. Within a century the Feast of Three
Kings (usually called Epiphany in English-speaking
countries) had also become a major feast day,
with the dozen days in between a period of
feasting, reflection and general merriment.
The Solemnity of Mary Mother of God appeared
as a separate feast day about 50 years later,
celebrated on January 1st in order to make
Christmas an octave, or eight-day feast. The
Feast of the Holy Family joined the calendar
a thousand years later, and was not fixed
on December 30th until 1969.
The actual "War on Christmas"
— as opposed to the one imagined by
today's well-heeled corporate rabble-rousers
— grew out of austere 16th- and 17th-century
Protestant movements. Eventually Puritan Massachusetts
would even levy fines against people who missed
work during Christmastide and businesses that
closed. Twelve days faded to one, with that
one allowed only grudgingly.
But there are definitely those who hate Christmas
— for the commercialization, for the
massive stress associated by family gatherings,
and most of all for its arrival just as the
calendar year winds down. Workers face extreme
pressure to make year-end targets, while at
the same time the fourth quarter has become
the most common time of year for layoffs thanks
to those same targets. A couple of years ago
the game industry's largest employer scrooged
over 100 staffers on Christmas Eve.
Stretching Christmas over a dozen days may
seem at first glance a recipe for prolonging
the agony. Yet for small children, the results
are wonderful. There is no Christmas overload.
They get a single present each day, look at
it, play with it, and enjoy it. They don't
become hyper and start crying for no reason.
Each day has its own joy, and its own traditional
feast in the evening: the old foods like turkey
and goose, treats like kipferl and stollen,
drinks like Glühwein. Yes, you have to
fend off the in-laws sniping about "it's
not really Christmas," but we all know
they'd snipe at something anyway so there's
no point in listening (sort of like the Internet
that way).
There are still five days left — plenty of time for
feasting and enjoyment, to play some of these
games that we all love and enjoy the company
of good friends. Merry Christmas every one.
This piece originally appeared in December 2007.
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