Baby Jesus is life of the party we're shopping, decorating for
/The Boston Herald
Beverly Beckham
In the church calendar, the days leading up to Christmas aren't about shopping and decorating and sending Christmas cards. They're about waiting for the holy birth. They're about taking time for prayer and reflection and acts of kindness.
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son."
Yes, well, something like that, the Son of God and the holy birth are not really paramount on the minds of many because, let's face it, the holy birth isn't in the fliers or on the ads on TV. The holy birth is relegated to Sundays and Christmas carols. "Away in a Manger," and "O Little Town of Bethlehem." Isn't that right?
In America now, and around the world, it seems that there are two Christmases. One is sacred and the basis of Christianity. And the other is secular and the basis for a lot of money being passed back and forth.
One's about a baby born in a manger 2,000 years ago, sent by God to save our souls. And the other's about an old guy, who has a toy factory in the North Pole, sent by sleigh around the world to fill our stockings and leave presents under our trees.
My friend Caryn did the best job explaining and entwining these disparate worlds. When her children were small, she told them that God so loved the world that he sent his Son to be born in it and that the world so loved the Son that every year people threw him a big birthday party.
Caryn backed up her words with action. In the midst of making cookies and pies, she always made a birthday cake for Jesus.
Early on Christmas Eve, her kids would gather around the table, sing, "Happy birthday, dear Jesus," blow out the candles, eat the cake and then go to church.
The next day, when Santa came and left toys, Caryn explained that Jesus was so selfless that he wanted everyone to share in his birthday and get presents, too. It was because of Jesus, she said, that Santa did the things he did.
A ceramic statue that's popular now tries to mingle the two tales. It shows Santa on his knees before the crib in which baby Jesus lies. Sacred and secular, it symbolizes the world's, and our, mixed beliefs.
There's a tendency among traditionalists to have an "either-or" attitude about Christmas. Either it's a holiday or it's a holy day. They say it can't be both.
But it is. Santa, Rudolph, The Grinch, George Bailey, Ebeneezer Scrooge. They're here to stay. They're part of the folklore that has attached itself to this holy holiday.
Two thousand years ago, a child was born in a stable in an obscure little village on the other side of the world. CNN wasn't there to record it. Larry King wasn't around to explain it. There were no photographs, no interviews, no "broadcasting live from Bethlehem," no news flashes on the Net. If a child cries in the middle of nowhere, does he make a sound?
The sound of that birth has reverberated for 2,000 years. Christmas, minus Santa and Rudolph and the Grinch and George Bailey and Ebenezer Scrooge, minus the music and mistletoe and lights and cards and egg nog and people coming home for the holidays, would still be Christmas. Because the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem is the basis and the bedrock of Christmas.
Last week, U.S. District Court Judge Nancy Gertner ruled that a nativity scene long displayed on Lexington Green couldn't be displayed there anymore. This has upset a lot of people. It shouldn't have.
A nearby church has offered space on its lawn and the truth is the scene is everywhere, because it's in our heads and in our hearts and in our culture.
The green has to remain neutral.
But we're not. We go around saying we are but in fact there's a parade marching through every town in America right now.
A parade of elves, reindeer and snowmen. And men in red caps ringing bells. And men in down jackets selling trees. And children in party clothes. And people buying presents. And school kids making cards. And there's music in the parade, too "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire" and "Do you hear what I hear?"
And at the head of the parade? There is a child. "And a little child shall lead them," Isaiah wrote.
And a little child does.