The Real War on Christmas
Every December, a chorus of conservative talk show hosts, and now the President of the United States, repeat the same message – that secularists are engaged in a campaign of warfare against the Christmas holiday, ready to erode the fabric of Christianity and America. As a Christian, this is laughable. I am not persecuted. Red cups do not spell the end of my faith and it is hard to argue that the faithful should feel threatened by the secular elements of Christmas. I see nothing wrong with a universal meaning to Christmas – one of bearing light to the world amid the dark winter.
In fact, this “secular” meaning of love and warmth is inextricably tied to the message of the Gospel, in my view—for it represents the entire arc of the New Testament: that a Saviour came down to Earth out of his love for us, born in an animal stable to a poor family living under a repressive regime, to spend his life preaching to the marginalized before facing an incredibly painful death, all for our sake. And throughout his entire life, he preached a universal message – to love one’s neighbour as oneself. So it should make sense that Christmas, a holiday celebrating the Incarnation of Christ, would also carry a more universal meaning. I have no problem with this. In fact, I embrace it.
There is, however, a far more sinister war being waged, one that threatens both the Christmas holiday and spirituality at-large. It is not fought by multiculturalists and liberals, however; rather, its trenches are American stores and its weapons come in sixty-second television adverts.
There is, however, a far more sinister war being waged, one that threatens both the Christmas holiday and spirituality at-large. It is not fought by multiculturalists and liberals, however; rather, its trenches are American stores and its weapons come in sixty-second television adverts.
Immediately following a day of “giving thanks,” millions of consumers line up outside stores, waiting to get the best deals available, mostly for their Christmas lists, written up by children, already looking for the newest, most exciting toy. Parents rush around trying to buy a happy Christmas morning for their children, spending an average of almost eight hundred dollars on trinkets and gimmicks, half of which their children probably won’t use for more than a week. We’ve learned to fill our collective void with things, perhaps because we’ve been told that having more will make us happier.
Of course, it never does. But symbolically, it’s quite perplexing that we celebrate the birth of a baby in a manger “with the oxen standing buy” by lavishing each other with gifts, egged on by corporate CEOs looking to make a quick buck off Christmas. It’s disheartening, particularly because that’s not how Christmas, in both its religious and secularized contexts, was meant to be. The holiday, like so many others (Easter, Mother’s Day, etc.) has fallen victim to what can only be described as a hostile corporate takeover. The irony is rich – we buy countless things to make us “happy”, spending thousands of dollars, all supposedly to celebrate a God who said that “No one can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.” (Matthew 6:24)
To any culture warriors reading this, you are correct in acknowledging that something has gone deeply wrong with the Christmas holiday, perhaps beyond the point of saving. But you were wrong in your diagnosis – the universality of Christmas is perhaps its greatest asset. That we can all come together and celebrate family and love, regardless of the holiday’s name is tremendously beautiful. Unfortunately, this isn't happening.
And as it is with almost every hot-button social issue, the more time we spend talking about red cups and “happy holidays”, the less time we spend calling out the destruction of the very fabric of the holiday season at the hands of the ultra-wealthy. Of course, we’ve all already bought into their very narrative. They’ll keep on buying out the ads, and we’ll keep on spending. ‘The War on Christmas’ has already been lost, and we never even noticed.