
I would like to start this off by stating that I am not a cynic and I love Christmas. I know that the caveat may cause some apprehension but I hope that my point in this is understood as my subjective understanding of what the holiday has become. With that said, let's begin.
Ah, Christmas time is upon us. Once again there will be told tales of Frosty the Snowman and cups of warm cocoa accompanied by Bing Crosby’s sonorous voice playing through the speakers in every vehicle, home, and store, whether strip-mall or mega-mart, in America. The Night Before Christmas will be read to our children, stockings will be hung, and peppermint flavored candies and chocolates will be purchased en masse. Soon we shall go shopping for our dear ones, young and old alike.
We are scheduled to donate our canned goods to the homeless shelter, for those who are less fortunate than us. We welcome with open arms the cozy feel and seductive crackle of the fires sitting under our chimneys. Snow has fallen, laying out a vast white carpet to usher in red-tag sales as millions of homes are preparing feasts for their families. It is time for us to spend some of our hard earned money and indulge in a bit of that consumerism that the conservatives are always harping against. It is time for all this and more.
It is time to not address Tom’s drinking problem because we are supposed to celebrate this time of year with a glass or two. Let him have the whole bottle. Tis’ the season! We should pretend not to notice that Janet kissed her boss for a lot longer than her husband. That was just the eggnog and mistletoe. Rough combination I suppose. Let us enjoy our glazed ham and roasted turkeys and forget the worries of others. After all, we made our donations to the food banks. What else do they want us to do?
We must embrace the joy of the season because it is so foreign to us in our everyday lives. Let the unwrapping of the bribes to our family members of jewelry, cars, and ipods commence, since we haven’t been the father, mother, daughter, or son we should have been. Don’t forget to wave to our neighbor who lost her husband to Alzheimer’s last month and is dealing with cancer as she sets up decorations for her first holiday alone. She is 80 after all; she’s had a good run. Yes, it is time to bask in the material while trying to convince each other that this is what the season is all about.
It is time to stand up against the liberals who don’t want us to have our manger scenes as we forget who was in the manger, and why. It is time to forget the God who left the glory of heaven to become a man and give us a way to save us from ourselves. It is time to forget Jesus. A crown of thorns and bloodied hands are much less attractive than elves with pointed hats and Jolly-Ole-Saint-Nick.
But this is a season. In but a breath or two the songs will go silent, the decorations will be taken down, and when the snow melts we will be unavoidably brought back to the harsh reality of our lives. Faced with the issues of our lives head-on, we will pray to the God whom we recently ignored. We will ask for God to do whatever it is that He does, reaching into His bag-of-tricks to bring us the answer to our circumstances. We seek the aid of a God that we only desire a relationship with when we feel the need to. And, if we survive our hardship we put an extra five in the offering plate when we go on Easter Sunday, maybe. But that is then, this is now. Ah, _ _ _ _ _ _ mas time is upon us.

