Some of the fondest memories I have of Christmas past has to do with certain guests we had for dinner. Said memories include an Uncle Bob—who was actually Robert, but was not my uncle. He and my dad's dad would spend Christmas Day, year after year, regaling us with stories about the early years in a Winnipeg rooming house.
Same stories, same punchline, yet we always howled with inexplicable laughter. I'm still not sure if we thought the stories were actually that funny, or we were just very polite kids.
Uncle Bob, Grandpa Tom, even my father, have all passed on to their heavenly reward, but the memories live on. Now I am older than my dad was during those days, and I've got grandchildren of my own. He seemed so old, but I seem so young. Where did the decades go?
My dad was very much the patriarch of the family, and essentially his word was the final word, especially at Christmas Take normal traditions, for example: We were so deprived as kids that we had no Christmas lights, either outside or inside. A tree? How pagan can you get? (These are my words, now from an adult perspective, and yes, I am being completely sarcastic.)
I am now my dad, if you will, and I (generally) revel in the role of the patriarch. I have added some things to our family traditions that he may not approve of. However, I have come to the realization that much of what we have cherished as kids, unfortunately, is being slowly but definitely stripped away today.
To put things in perspective, I am speaking of the Christmases of the '60s and '70s, versus the present scene. Back then, we could sing carols at our public schools, set up nativity scenes in the town square, wish anyone and everyone a “Merry Christmas,” without any fear, any second-guessing, or any yuletide hang-ups.
Anyone who opposed that usual Christmas fare was tolerated. Read that word again: tolerated. That is, their opposition was permitted. And that also means that they were not sued, not harassed, and not threatened. We were an accommodating society back then, or at least so it seemed.
The tide has turned in the last ten years, and one wonders where all the tolerance has disappeared.
Faithful readers are likely assuming that this is the point in my column where I launch into my right-wing, orthodox Christian, homeschooling rant (pleeease: While I do come from that perspective, I don't believe I have ever ranted or raved about it). If you're looking for some moral diatribe, go read the Calgary Herald's “Letters to the Editor.”
This nonsense about taking Christ out of Christmas, stopping nativity scenes in old folks' homes, skewering Christmas greetings, and making Boxing Day more important than Christmas Day, has little to do with religious rights.
It's more of a matter of human rights—but they are very one-sided human rights.
Why does it becomes a federal case when normal, regular Canadian citizens are stripped of their right to celebrate a holiday that has been part of the culture for decades? Why must every vestige of “religion” be wiped out of Christmas? Why can't there be room for those that embrace either viewpoint? As I wondered before, where is the tolerance now?
Those of us who value the common culture of Christmas past should be asking the tough questions: How can crass commercialism be a good thing, but common piety a bad thing? How can Santa Claus—a myth, indeed, out there with global warming and the tooth fairy—take on many of the qualities of Jesus Christ, without so much as an outcry? How can the saucy “Jingle Bell Rock” replace the venerable “Silent Night”?
The Christmas I was nurtured in has been usurped by something very, very different. I think that “different” is often good, but this one is bad. I argue for at least a co-existence of the two worldviews.
It's frightening to me that common Christmas traditions are not only no longer tolerated in many places, but are in fact opposed. There is something very wrong (and I have no problem calling it “wrong”) when what I practice in the sanctity of my own home, workplace, school, or even community becomes illegal—for no other reason than intolerance.
I don't really want to be a kid again, but I long for that simple, wholesome society when I was a kid.
In other words, it would be nice to sit down and laugh with Uncle Bob and Grandpa Tom one more time, without any fear of someone's rights being violated. Even it is a matter of just being polite.
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