Dragging Christmas to the Curb

A man in our neighborhood used to drag his tree down to the street right after his midday feast and just before his afternoon of viewing football.

I thought of this man’s action recently when I read of author Jan Leong's rush to put everything about Christmas in the trash or in the attic as soon as possible:

“Like me, our neighbors had dragged Christmas to the curb.”

Mrs. Leong stuffed her garbage can as full as possible and thought she had — with assistance from her teenage son — successfully dragged Christmas away. But then, her son came dragging a dying potted tree someone had deposited across the street.

Mother and son battled verbally till she recalled he had something of a green thumb. Her energy at low ebb, she agreed to let him keep his newfound treasure —  stipulating that he had to clean up dying needles as they fell from the tree.

The way we “do Christmas,” we feel depleted, physically and emotionally, not to mention financially, and want to forget all the headaches that go with the season. 

But if we can rid ourselves of Christmas by dragging it to the curb, what is Christmas anyway? 

“We’re going to have Christmas early because it’s Sarah’s year to be with her in-laws.”

“Christmas will be late. We have to wait till Sam finishes his tour in Afghanistan.”

“We just can’t do Christmas this year, since Mother died last week.

These explanations equate Christmas with family gatherings, lavish meals, presents, and generally good times together.  Maybe even better with a little snow.

British author Edward Rutherfurd’s historically based novel London describes a holiday celebration in the seventh century that offers us perspectives on Christmas.  

Great excitement mounts as they anticipate lighting the Yule log. They feast on venison and beef and other meats. They enjoy apples, pears, mulberries and other summer fruit they had preserved. They drink morat, from fermented mulberries.

The people in the story expect visitors to come from a distance. These  holiday guests have to be fed and be bedded down on pallets of straw:

These seventh-century scenes from Rutherfurd’s novel have a familiar ring to them.  We associate the Yule log with Christmas.  And any family these days who has prepared for Christmas visitors can recognize the stir of activity in getting food ready and arranging places for their company to sleep. 

But the scene in Rutherfurd’s book is not a Christmas celebration at all.  It is a Yule celebration. 

 Christianity was new to England in the seventh century. These people are pagans. They burn the Yule log when the days grow shorter as a sign of hope for the longer days of spring.

Most of these Londoners in the seventh century have never heard of Jesus.

In modern terms:

You can wrap a mountain of gifts that reach to the ceiling.

You can have decorations that win prizes in the Home Christmas Tour.

You can write enough Christmas cards to fill the nearest post office.

You can cook enough pies and cakes and turkeys to fill a restaurant.

Nothing wrong with any of those things, but if that’s all your Christmas, you probably should drag Christmas to the curb — and the sooner the better.

For most of my life, the 12 Days of Christmas meant simply the partridge in a pear tree along with 12 lords leaping, seven swans swimming, three French hens, and the like. 

Then, not many years ago, I became aware of the church year or liturgical year that encourages us to extend our focus on the birth of Jesus for 12 days instead of one, leading on to the arrival of the Wise Men and also Jesus’s baptism, then on to other events in our Lord's life throughout the year.

Long-time Methodist pastor Ellsworth Kalas reminds us how we tiptoe around what Christmas really is about.  He said:

God is love. “That’s what Christmas is all about.” 

God loved us and sent His Son.  “That’s what Christmas is all about.”

Be kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God, for Christ’s sake has forgiven you.  “That’s what Christmas is all about.”

Whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.  “That’s what Christmas is all about.”

How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? Inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.  “That’s what Christmas is all about.”

With those thoughts and actions, you will not hurry to drag Christmas to the curb.

Mrs. Leong looked back some 30 years after she tried to keep her teenage son from saving a dying pine tree. When she wrote her story, she had no desire to drag Christmas to the curb. And -- by the way -- her son’s pine tree was still alive.

Jan Leong, “Evergreen,” All is Calm, All is Bright, ed. Cheryl Kirking, Grand Rapids, MI.: Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group, 2001, 2008.