My suggestions are not uncommon among Christians who feel a little disillusioned with our cultural celebrations, but if we're honest, reshaping the nature of the season presents some significant social problems. I was reading through the Advent section of Living the Christian Year a few days ago, in which the author, Bobby Gross makes some similar suggestions as I do. He then recounts a conversation he had with a friend over this issue:
"My struggle boils down to this," bemoaned my friend Courtney. "You can't be Mary and Martha at the same time; someone has to do the cooking!" She vented this frustration after a dinner party where the conversation had turned to the tension between Advent as a spiritual season and December as a month of cultural craziness. "Your description of Advent requires Mary time," she said in a later email,
yet of all the times of the year - especially for a woman with children and a conscience - Advent is the most impossible to be Mary-like. The Christmas machine (church, school, family, neighborhood, office, charitable activities) is so giant that it would require radical steps to extricate oneself. Steps that could send a message to one's community of being uncharitable and that could feed resentment in one's own family." Living the Christian Year, p. 45
That's a really provocative statement, right? So, my question is, if you were respond to Courtney over email, what would you say to her?
I think the phrase "the Christmas machine" is telling; it's an apt description, too. It does feel like a machine: revs up reliably every year, is unrelenting and ominous, and isn't easily stopped.
ReplyDeleteI think the first step in a gradual process of fighting the Christmas machine is to make it clear that not everything is possible or necessary in any one household: choices need to be made among the events, giftings, and gatherings. Even this may take some fortitude, and there may be flack. But I think those affected will respect the need to choose what is most meaningful, save other things for another year, and respect the limits of the parent who has to make all this happen.
Ideally, I think doing away with the Christmas machine -- which is almost entirely disconnected these days from the Nativity of Our Lord -- will release us to celebrate his Nativity in a new and meaningful way. Shutting off that machine is a difficult thing to imagine, but for some, I'll bet it's possible.
When I have said no to things for a valid reason, people are understanding and sometimes envious. I resigned from a committee because - as I explained to the chair - it wasn't something I really cared about and I needed to reserve energy for what I did care about; and listed a couple things so he knew I wasn't just b.s.-ing.
ReplyDeleteIt takes strength to do what our culture doesn't want you to do (i.e. do less and be more spiritual).
I would memorize a "script" that gets you out of doing things and might (!) elicit sympathy rather than hostility.
One example: "I've been feeling rather stressed out lately, which is keeping me from enjoying the spiritual side of Christmas. I'll have to pass. I hope you understand."
Be well, all.
When I have said no to things for a valid reason, people are understanding and sometimes envious. I resigned from a committee because - as I explained to the chair - it wasn't something I really cared about and I needed to reserve energy for what I did care about; and listed a couple things so he knew I wasn't just b.s.-ing.
ReplyDeleteIt takes strength to do what our culture doesn't want you to do (i.e. do less and be more spiritual).
I would memorize a "script" that gets you out of doing things and might (!) elicit sympathy rather than hostility.
One example: "I've been feeling rather stressed out lately, which is keeping me from enjoying the spiritual side of Christmas. I'll have to pass. I hope you understand."
Be well, all.