No, I don’t want a Christmas tree
I’m not a devout Jew, but even our family’s minimally decorated sapling feels like an affront
Among the litany of Jewish sins — and what are we if not the People of the Guilt-Inducing Transgression? — that of keeping a Christmas tree in the house seems if not negligible, then such a commonplace one as to require no absolution. In 2012 one-third of American Jews adorned their homes with some form of yuletide shrubbery, according to a survey released in October by the Pew Research Center’s Religion & Public Life Project. (The survey also found that 51 percent of “Jews of no religion” had a tree, a confusing statistic offered without definition for what merits inclusion in that demographic category.)
This being the current state of Judaic affairs, one might think it no cause for concern, then, to learn that my wife — a Japanese-American who, if surveyed, would likely be deemed “Buddhist of no religion” — insisted that we buy a tree for our three young children this year. But it is.
I am Jewish, but with a complicated religious backstory: When I was 9 years old, my mother, a recent divorcee, moved our family from its cozily secular Jewish environs in New York City to the Gulf Coast of Mississippi. Once there, she decided, for reasons that included both fear of discrimination and a fair dose of Jewish self-loathing, to have us pretend to be Christian. I was sent to an Episcopal school, where I attended church each Wednesday and said the Lord’s Prayer every morning before lessons. At home my mother decorated a towering Christmas tree, tinsel swathed and brilliantly lit, with enough crystal finery and gingerbread wildlife to make a man of the cloth go misty eyed. I got all my gifts in one big burst on Dec. 25.
As an adult, I returned to Judaism. I wrote a book chronicling my exploration of the religion called "Am I a Jew?" On its final page, I wrote, “I am a Jew. I believe that. I am entitled to believe that. I could not make it otherwise even if I wished.” My reconnection was not a spiritual one. I observe the high holidays and vote Democratic, but I intone no prayers and speak no Hebrew. Judaism is, for me, a matter of identity and pride as well as an affirmative act of repudiation of my past. The choice to casually participate in the Christian holidays isn’t one I can make.
So, no, I don’t want a Christmas tree, thank you very much.
I must admit it hasn’t been altogether horrible having the tree around.
But I am a married man and am wise enough to accept that when your wife wants a Christmas tree, a Christmas tree is what you will get. All it took was an evening stroll to the vendor camping out near our apartment in Brooklyn. The cheerful lights combine with the aroma of fresh-cut Douglas fir to provoke a sort of mania in children, and in short order I was trundling home with my contribution to climate change balanced on one shoulder.
I must admit it hasn’t been altogether horrible having the thing around. It’s even been amusing, in a hapless kind of way. Jews, as a general rule, tend not to have many Christmas ornaments lying about. Thus, in contrast the statuesque arboreal specimens of my youth, ours is a forlorn-looking seasonal hedge, jammed into a corner of the kids’ playroom and decorated with but two threadbare strings of lights, neither of which blinks.
I’ve found a begrudging level of acceptance for the tree because I don't think it conflicts with my religious principles, such as they are. Remember, Christmas isn’t much of a Christian holiday. Nothing in the Bible indicates that Jesus was born on the day that we mark with eggnog and rampant commercialism. In fact, the earliest precursor of the holiday is believed to be the Roman pagan week of merriment, lawlessness and gift giving known as Saturnalia, which, history tells us, was held around this time every December. As for Santa Claus, that jolly figure of legend who breaks into your home, steals your cookies and leaves you with electronic gaming devices — his presence derives from a Greek Christian bishop originally from Turkey, cross-pollinated with a bit of German paganism and Scandinavian folklore and topped off, round bellied and red cheeked, with the famous 19th century drawings of Thomas Nast. Under such circumstances, I feel entitled to enjoy my Christmas cake.
Then there is the small matter of Hanukkah. Why, one might ask, would I adopt someone else’s festivity when my forebears have provided me a perfectly suitable one of my own? I enjoy Hanukkah, truly, and I lit the candles this year, fried latkes and showed my son how to spin the dreidel. But in truth, I’m hard pressed to see the conflict between Christmas and the commemoration of my scrappy ancestors’ victory over the Seleucid Empire. And lest we forget, that lantern, the one with oil only for one night that miraculously burned for eight? It appears nowhere in the first or second Book of the Maccabees, the written source from which the holiday originates. My kids got presents nonetheless.
In short, I know that I’m on solid ground with the tree. Yet the guilt, which I consider evidence of my Jewish nature, persists. It’s there every time I stare into the glow of the red and white lights hung from the tree’s branches. Regret mixes with the pleasure I gain from the obvious joy my children take from it. The essential illogic of both Christmas and Hanukkah do not free me from something that feels like abandonment. I struggled to come back to Judaism. I have to guard against letting it go, even in trivial ways. So I will keep my menorah, and I will have to talk to my wife and explain things to the kids. Next year there will be no tree.
Theodore Ross is the author of "Am I a Jew?: My Journey Among the Believers and Pretenders, the Lapsed and the Lost, in Search of Faith (Not Necessarily My Own), My Roots, and Who Knows, Even Myself."
The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera America's editorial policy.
http://america.aljazeera.com/opinions/2013/12/jewish-christmastreeholidaysguilt.html
do the unwashed germanic goyim hordes have the right to impose their pagan blasphemy on me? from my brooklyn apartment, me and my asian wife report.
damn you might as well just have the title be the entire text of the book next time
im just trying to gauge exactly how stupid this is.
tsinava posted:isn't decorating a pine tree a pagan tradition anyways.
if you want to be properly jewish then its supposed to be an olive tree, not a pine tree. and instead of decorating your own, you dig up someone elses
tsinava posted:isn't decorating a pine tree a pagan tradition anyways.
im just trying to gauge exactly how stupid this is.
Everyone accepts this without critique, but Christmas trees were brought into fashion by Lutherans in the 16th century and there is no convincing reason to believe they are of pagan origin. It's a popular idea that if Christians make use of a tree, or the month of December, or anything else, it is necessarily pagan in origin and Christianity has compromised itself, because paganism has a claim on everything that isn't Jesus in a crib I guess
Agnus_Dei posted:tsinava posted:isn't decorating a pine tree a pagan tradition anyways.
im just trying to gauge exactly how stupid this is.Everyone accepts this without critique, but Christmas trees were brought into fashion by Lutherans in the 16th century and there is no convincing reason to believe they are of pagan origin. It's a popular idea that if Christians make use of a tree, or the month of December, or anything else, it is necessarily pagan in origin and Christianity has compromised itself, because paganism has a claim on everything that isn't Jesus in a crib I guess
jesus was most likely born in the fall, not december 25th
libelous_slander posted:jesus was most likely born in the fall, not december 25th
It is most likely, based on early writings, that the date of Christmas was chosen because it comes nine months after Easter and people liked the idea of the passion and the conception occurring on the same day. Christmas day falls neither on the winter solstice nor Saturnalia
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ch/news/2000/dec08.html
Elesha Coffman posted:For the church's first three centuries, Christmas wasn't in December—or on the calendar at all.
It's very tough for us North Americans to imagine Mary and Joseph trudging to Bethlehem in anything but, as Christina Rosetti memorably described it, "the bleak mid-winter," surrounded by "snow on snow on snow." To us, Christmas and December are inseparable. But for the first three centuries of Christianity, Christmas wasn't in December—or on the calendar anywhere.
If observed at all, the celebration of Christ's birth was usually lumped in with Epiphany (January 6), one of the church's earliest established feasts. Some church leaders even opposed the idea of a birth celebration. Origen (c.185-c.254) preached that it would be wrong to honor Christ in the same way Pharaoh and Herod were honored. Birthdays were for pagan gods.
Not all of Origen's contemporaries agreed that Christ's birthday shouldn't be celebrated, and some began to speculate on the date (actual records were apparently long lost). Clement of Alexandria (c.150-c.215) favored May 20 but noted that others had argued for April 18, April 19, and May 28. Hippolytus (c.170-c.236) championed January 2. November 17, November 20, and March 25 all had backers as well. A Latin treatise written around 243 pegged March 21, because that was believed to be the date on which God created the sun. Polycarp (c.69-c.155) had followed the same line of reasoning to conclude that Christ's birth and baptism most likely occurred on Wednesday, because the sun was created on the fourth day.
The eventual choice of December 25, made perhaps as early as 273, reflects a convergence of Origen's concern about pagan gods and the church's identification of God's son with the celestial sun. December 25 already hosted two other related festivals: natalis solis invicti (the Roman "birth of the unconquered sun"), and the birthday of Mithras, the Iranian "Sun of Righteousness" whose worship was popular with Roman soldiers. The winter solstice, another celebration of the sun, fell just a few days earlier. Seeing that pagans were already exalting deities with some parallels to the true deity, church leaders decided to commandeer the date and introduce a new festival.
Western Christians first celebrated Christmas on December 25 in 336, after Emperor Constantine had declared Christianity the empire's favored religion. Eastern churches, however, held on to January 6 as the date for Christ's birth and his baptism. Most easterners eventually adopted December 25, celebrating Christ's birth on the earlier date and his baptism on the latter, but the Armenian church celebrates his birth on January 6. Incidentally, the Western church does celebrate Epiphany on January 6, but as the arrival date of the Magi rather than as the date of Christ's baptism.
Another wrinkle was added in the sixteenth century when Pope Gregory devised a new calendar, which was unevenly adopted. The Eastern Orthodox and some Protestants retained the Julian calendar, which meant they celebrated Christmas 13 days later than their Gregorian counterparts. Most—but not all—of the Christian world now agrees on the Gregorian calendar and the December 25 date.
The pagan origins of the Christmas date, as well as pagan origins for many Christmas customs (gift-giving and merrymaking from Roman Saturnalia; greenery, lights, and charity from the Roman New Year; Yule logs and various foods from Teutonic feasts), have always fueled arguments against the holiday. "It's just paganism wrapped with a Christian bow," naysayers argue. But while kowtowing to worldliness must always be a concern for Christians, the church has generally viewed efforts to reshape culture—including holidays—positively. As a theologian asserted in 320, "We hold this day holy, not like the pagans because of the birth of the sun, but because of him who made it."
Elesha can be reached at cheditor@ChristianityToday.com.
The online issue archive for Christian History goes as far back as Issue 51 (Heresy in the Early Church). Prior issues are available for purchase in the Christian History Store.
Copyright © 2000 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine.
so it looks like it takes place on a solar holiday, but i think people often mistake "pagan" for "norse" or "wiccan" and we ignore the Mediterranean and mid-eastern pre-christian religions/belief structures that were later absorbed or eliminated.
A Latin treatise written around 243 pegged March 21, because that was believed to be the date on which God created the sun.
Yeah that makes a lot of sense
Agnus_Dei posted:tsinava posted:isn't decorating a pine tree a pagan tradition anyways.
im just trying to gauge exactly how stupid this is.Everyone accepts this without critique, but Christmas trees were brought into fashion by Lutherans in the 16th century and there is no convincing reason to believe they are of pagan origin. It's a popular idea that if Christians make use of a tree, or the month of December, or anything else, it is necessarily pagan in origin and Christianity has compromised itself, because paganism has a claim on everything that isn't Jesus in a crib I guess
Agnus_Dei posted:libelous_slander posted:jesus was most likely born in the fall, not december 25th
It is most likely, based on early writings, that the date of Christmas was chosen because it comes nine months after Easter and people liked the idea of the passion and the conception occurring on the same day. Christmas day falls neither on the winter solstice nor Saturnalia
who WOULDNT like the idea of passion and conception occurring on the same day!
Lykourgos posted:So are the kids going to grow up and write a shitty book about how THEIR father suppressed their christian identity?
grumblefish - the movie
c_man posted:Lykourgos posted:
So are the kids going to grow up and write a shitty book about how THEIR father suppressed their christian identity?
grumblefish - the movie
(laugh track)
stegosaurus posted:jew of no religion is an awesome and awesomely real demographic category
jew of little faith (matt. 8:26)
